#oh wait books includes books read To you probably

[anissapierce]

Who else had a toddler existential crisis bc of a show starring lion puppets?

(starts at 2:40)

I got a mythology book from the library when I was about 6 and I’ve never been the same since then

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[skzdust]

Hotel Showers

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was a request from @chanchansgirly (here) and part of my 500 followers celebration! The request was prompt #1, only one bed, with Chan, NSFW!

I hope you all like it!

Summary: Y/n and Chan get stuck in a very cold hotel room together... and there's only one bed.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Flustered!reader

Includes: only one bed trope, handcuffs, fingering, cumming inside (PLEASEEEEE USE A CONDOM IRL)

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

“Seriously?” You blinked at the desk attendant.

He smiled back at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid the blizzard’s got us more crowded than expected. The only room we have left does just have the one bed.”

You sighed. “Just give me the key.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walked back over to Chan, key card in hand. “Sorry, it looks like they’ve only got one room left, and it only has one bed.”

Chan smiled. “Oh, no worries. It’s just one night.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want. Or in the chair. Those hotel chairs are surprisingly comfy sometimes. I mean, sometimes they’re just not, but, like, this one will probably be fine.” You found yourself rambling.

Chan laughed. “Y/n, if you’re okay with sharing the bed, that works for me.”

“Oh—okay.” You could feel your cheeks reddening.

He turned towards the elevator. “Lets’ go.”

You went upstairs to your room, and you pulled a book out of your bag to read while Chan was in the shower. You tried to stop yourself from thinking about that shower, about the water running through his hair, down his shoulders, over his abs, and lower…

You closed your book with a sigh, opting to doomscroll instagram instead.

The water turned off, and a few minutes later Chan opened the door. Thankfully for your sanity, he was wearing a shirt. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

You smiled. “Okay, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

You went into the bathroom. It felt strangely intimate, erotic, almost, to be in a bathroom filled with the steam from Chan’s shower.

You started your shower before you realized you’d left your body wash in your suitcase. You resigned yourself to hotel soap before seeing Chan’s little blue bottle on the shelf. He must’ve left it there.

He probably wouldn’t care if you used it, right?

You carefully squeezed some into your palm. It smelled good, masculine and clean.

You got out of the shower, dried off, and put on a T-shirt and sleep shorts. You regretted your decision as soon as you stepped out of the now even steamier bathroom. “My God, it’s cold.”

Chan laughed from where he was sitting under the covers. “I was just messing with the thermostat, doesn’t look like it’s getting any warmer in here.”

You gave a short exhale. “Of course.”

Chan patted the sheets beside him. “Here, it’s warmer in bed.”

You got in bed with him, burrowing under the blankets. “I guess a little bit.”

“Can I help?”

“Can… can you help?” You were confused.

“Can I touch you?” Chan’s smile was soft. “Just to help warm you up.”

“Oh… um, yeah, please.”

Chan reached towards you, pulling you into his arms and cuddling you close to his chest.

You were sure he was able to feel your heartbeat, because you could feel it all over your body, especially between your legs.

“Are you comfortable?” Chan whispered.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable.” You pushed your head into his chest. “You’re warm, Channie.”

“Channie?” He laughed.

“I— sorry, I just, like, a nickname, you know, like, how, like, friends call each other nicknames. You know, like friends do?” You rambled.

“Y/n, calm down. You’re allowed to call me Channie. I would even go so far as to say I like it.”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks going hot.

He paused for a moment. “Wait.” He helped roll you over, so your back was flush against his chest. You could feel yourself growing wet at the manhandling.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. You took a shuddering breath of your own at how his lips brushed your skin.

“Did you use my body wash?”

“Um… I forgot mine, I didn’t think you’d… mind.”

“I don’t… mind, exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I think it’s hot more than I think it’s a problem. Which is, in and of itself, a problem.”

“Why?” You breathed.

“Because we’re sharing a bed… catch my drift?”

“I think you need to spell it out for me.” You shifted, angling your hips against his crotch. You could feel a bulge forming already.

He hissed. “Y/n, don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” You whispered. “I mean it.”

You squeaked as Chan flipped you around again, and you were met with his piercing gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

His hand drifted up the inside of your thigh. “How do you want it?”

You were a little taken off guard. “Want it? I— uh, inside me, I think.”

He laughed, then brought his lips up to your ear to whisper to you. “I mean, do you want it rough? Want to worship me? Want me to put you on a leash and choke you like a dog? Do you want me so bad you’d do anything for me?” He nibbled on your earlobe, and you shifted with a whine. “You know, if you’re into that.”

“Yes, Chan.”

“To which one?”

“All of it.”

He smiled, and you were caught off guard by his wide, ray-of-sunshine grin. “We’re gonna have fun. I’ll be right back.” He got off the bed, and you shivered at the sudden loss of his heat.

He shuffled through his luggage before pulling out a pair of leather handcuffs.  You didn’t even want to question where he’d gotten them or why they were in his suitcase. “You want these?”

Your eyes widened. “Ye-yes, Chan, I do want those.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, climbing back onto the bed. “I’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard, okay?”

“Yes, Channie.” You held out your hands. He guided you to lay back, and he fastened the cuffs around your wrists and then clipped them around the headboard. You tugged a bit at them, and you moaned when they didn’t give.

He just sat in front of you for a moment, watching you watch him.

“Beautiful.” He eventually mumbled. “Lift up those hips for me, and we’ll get your shorts off.”

You nodded, lifting your hips so Chan could slide your shorts and underwear off. You were soaked, and Chan dragged a finger through it before licking it clean. “Damn, all this over me just touching you a bit?”

“I— I mean, before, the shower, I was just thinking about— um, about nothing.” You stopped before you could make a complete fool of yourself by admitting to picturing him naked in the shower.

It was too late for that, though. Chan raised an eyebrow. “Were you thinking about me in the shower?”

You swallowed. “Uh… maybe.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You want me more than you’ve been letting on, don’t you?”

“Uh… maybe.” You said again.

His eyes raked over you. Once, then again. “Can I finger you, sweetheart?”

You felt a wave of heat rush through you, and you were hyperaware of your heartbeat again, pulsing through you. “Yes, please.”

He circled one finger around your entrance for a moment before beginning to press inside. You whined.

He paused. “Something wrong, baby?”

“No!” You squeaked. “Nothing’s wrong! Keep going, Channie, please.” You breathed the last word, and you were unsure for a moment if he’d even heard you until he hummed.

“Please sounds so good coming from your mouth, baby.” He all but purred, pushing his finger in all the way.  Your eyes rolled back, and a broken moan fell from your lips. “Say it again.”

“Please.” You whispered. “Another finger, Chan, please.”

“You’re asking so nicely.” He added another finger, as requested, and you arched your back off the bed.

“Fuck.”

“Can you take another?”

“Yes.”

He added in a third finger. You felt so deliciously full of him, and you absently wondered if his cock would fill you up as good.

He pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. His tongue lewdly lapped at his long fingers, making wet noises.

You moaned. “Please, Chan.”

He paused to raise his eyebrows at you. “What are you begging for, hm?”

“You.” You said honestly. “Want you, um, deep— deep inside me.”

“Shy all of a sudden?” He dropped his hand to your pussy, rubbing at your clit. “I’m gonna be deep inside of you in just a second, sweetheart.”

You pushed your hips into his hand, and he laughed. “Greedy little thing.” He pulled away to take off his shirt and pants, leaving him completely naked on the bed in front of you.

“Fuck.” You whispered. You’d known he was muscular, but he was absolutely gorgeous like this, sculpted like he’d been made by Michelangelo.

And his cock… he was big, and he was hard, and you wanted him so badly you were practically salivating.

“Can I fuck you now?” He whispered, his hands hovering over your hips, waiting for your consent.

“Yes, Chan, please, yes.”

You watched as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. “Ready?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

You put your attention to his face as he pushed inside, at the way his expression went slack as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. You tried to reach up to touch him, but the cuffs rattled loudly.  Something burned inside you. The restraints were turning you on.

His eyes snapped open. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… it’s hot, not being able to touch you, while you touch me all you want.” You said shakily.

He smirked. “Good, that’s the goal.”

“Can you fuck me now?”

He pushed your hair back from your desperate expression, gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, sweetheart.”

He started to rock back and forth, and it took a bit of adjustment before you found a position that was comfortable, but when you settled into it, it was heavenly. Chan’s cock hit spots inside you you didn’t even know existed, and you were soon seeing stars. You gently moaned with each of his thrusts, the sounds of his skin on yours and your moans and his strangled noises filling the room. Chan was so good at this, so good at figuring out exactly what your body needed.

Chan changed angles one more time, and you were suddenly crying out with every motion inside you. “Fuck, Channie, that’s so good, don’t stop!”

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart.” He grunted, his hands beginning to feel up your chest. “I’m not gonna stop. You feel so good around me, so warm, so nice and tight, fuck.”

You whined, glad you were being good for him.

Eventually Chan’s movements grew animalistic; his thrusts shorter, tighter. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.”

“Inside!” You moaned. “Cum inside, Chan, please, please, Chan, please— oh!”

You could feel him cum inside you just as your own orgasm hit, and you twitched through it while Chan collapsed on top of you.

Both of you were drained. Chan unclipped the handcuffs and took them off, and you cuddled under the blanket. “So cold.”

“It is.” Chan wrapped himself around you. “What do you say we take another shower, together, to warm up and clean off?”

You nodded, snuggling into his chest. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

“That means we actually have to get out of bed, you know.”

You gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

[redeemingvillains]

riddle's girl - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey

word count: 2.5k

a/n: just more fluffy sweetness! in my mind this takes place shortly after cold comfort, but they're really unrelated so this can be read as a standalone! ♡

There weren't a lot of things Mattheo liked about being a prefect. He had no interest in being the Slytherin house snitch, in shutting down parties or telling kids they couldn't smoke in the bathroom. So, he didn't do any of it; he threw parties, stole their joints and dared anyone to tell him he couldn't do otherwise.

There weren't many people willing to stand up to the Dark Lord's son, and those that were were pulling the same shit right alongside him. So, he did none of the work but got all of the perks, up to and including having his own room, which, once he started dating you turned out to be just about his favorite thing in the world, and, also, a necessity if the rest of the castle didn't want to be up listening to the two of you at all hours of the night... and morning... and afternoon.

He smirked as he hurried through the halls, eager to get to you, knowing you would be in his room now waiting for him. It was a few hours before his first quidditch match of the year and you were his good luck charm, a necessary part of his pre-match routine.

As he whispered the password to the entrance of his room, he could hear your music playing as you sang along softly to it, probably Taylor Swift, which he'd tell you to turn off but now so closely associated with you that he found himself listening to her even when you weren't around (though he'd deny it to anyone that asked).

He smiled as he walked through the door and took in the sight in front of him: there were little parts of you scattered all over the room, which felt just as much yours as it was his; stacks of your books and a flickering candle took over his bookshelf, a bra and an unkempt pile of clothes on his chair, and you were seated at his desk which you had taken over completely to do your makeup, leaning into a small mirror applying mascara before you caught his eye and turned to face him excitedly.

"Hi!" you said, even more bubbly than usual as you popped up and walked over to him, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as he caught your lips with his own and pulled you into him.

"Mmpf!" you mumbled against his lips in surprise before pulling away. "Wait, wait wait, what do you think?" you said, stepping back to show him your outfit with your arms extended even as he made grabby hands trying to pull you back.

You were in one of his team-issued quidditch jerseys; it engulfed you, coming to the midpoint of your thighs which were bare, the sight an absolute vision that had every part of him twitching to toss you onto the bed.

"Fucking hot" he said with a smirk, his brown eyes wide and twinkling. "Maybe put some pants on before you go, but that sounds like a problem for later us."

"Matty!" you laughed, smacking his arm to scold him before you turned to give him the 360-degree view.

You paused with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side and looking over your shoulder at him... and he swore his heart stopped beating in his chest as he fully registered the sight in front of him: You. Wearing his last name. "Riddle" prominently spelled out on the back of the jersey.

His eyebrows drew together and he brought his hand to his chest, subconsciously resting on his heart, a look of discomfort on his face that immediately had you turning back to him.

"Oh—are you— is this okay?" you asked.

It was tradition for girlfriends to wear their boyfriends' jerseys the first match of the year, but you two had barely just started dating and you had never talked about this; he truthfully didn't seem into this kind of thing and now you were worried you'd taken things too far.

Mattheo still hadn't said anything, still had trouble catching his breath. Conceptually he understood it was just you in his jersey, but you wearing his last name like that had shifted something inside him. YN Riddle, YN Riddle was all he could think in his head, how much he liked the sound of it, and what that meant... he was a fucking goner for you. You had turned his life on its head in the short period of time you two had been dating and he had no intention of scaring you away with the idea of marriage months into a relationship - what the hell was the matter with him??

...And who says you'd even want to marry him or take his name for that matter? No one in their right mind would want to marry into his family or take a name that was spoken like a curse. He thought of the way people spit it out of their mouths, like they hated the very taste of it on their tongue. He couldn't, wouldn't do that to you, realizing finally that what he was looking at in front of him was a mirage at best, a nightmare at worst. The whole situation and the frustration of it all made him furious.

You were looking at him with a puzzled expression on your face and he realized you'd asked him something.

"It's...I don't know..." he mumbled, his head still whirling.

"You don't...know?" About us? you thought.

"I...don't know... it's...." he was trying to come up with the words to say but kept getting angrier and angrier. "Fucking hell" he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. And now you were certain you'd overdone it and put too much pressure on your relationship.

"It's fine, I'll take it off, I don't have to wear it" you said, turning to look for your discarded clothes as much to hide the tears in your eyes. You pulled your jeans on, pulled the jersey off and covered yourself with your sweater before he could register what was happening. He could sense the swift change in your mood but was still trying so hard to figure out his own feelings he was struggling to keep up.

"If you want to, you can—"

"—It's fine" you replied quickly, your voice wobbling. You were grabbing your things and walking out and Mattheo couldn't fathom what he had done wrong other than dream of a world where you could have his last name.

"Good luck" you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as you left.

What the fuck just happened he thought.

The wind whipped wildly through Mattheo's curls and he bobbed on his broom against the gusts, his eyes never leaving your seat in the stands no matter where he flew. The game whizzed around him and he was doing the bare minimum to contribute, his mind unable to focus on anything but your earlier conversation.

He had tried to catch your eye a few times but you seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, intent on focusing on the people around you and when you turned to talk to the girl behind you and he saw Malfoy's name on your back he nearly lost his grip and slipped off his broom.

Draco was like a brother to you, and you were seated next to his girlfriend Pansy in her own matching jersey, so it wasn't jealousy that reared its ugly head, but something much deeper, something possessive that simmered inside of him. That should be my name he thought as he gripped his broom so hard his knuckles turned white. She's fucking mine.

"Get your damn head in the game will you?" a teammate shouted as they flew by. But now the chances of that happening were even slimmer. You. His girlfriend. Wearing Malfoy's fucking name.

Mattheo seemed...off.

He was missing passes, dropping the quaffle, just generally out of it, which was completely uncharacteristic for one of Slytherin's star players. You didn't know for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like you were a contributing factor, that the conversation you'd had... or didn't really have earlier was to blame. You twiddled the rings on your fingers with anxiety and you began to feel guilt welling up when Mattheo suddenly dropped out of play, beelining towards the coaches and team staff gathered on the grass of the pitch.

"What the hell is he doing now?" Pansy huffed.

Mattheo was off his broom and storming towards a group of third years that helped the team by washing jerseys and mending brooms, and he grabbed one of them by the front of the robes so hard he nearly pulled him off his feet. He was shouting at him, telling him something, and the kid looked like he wanted to cry. He was nodding violently with every sentence Mattheo said before Mattheo turned and pointed to you.

At this point the entire stadium was murmuring and it had nothing to do with the game. People loved to watch Mattheo play on a regular day and now whispers were flying faster than broomsticks at the scene unfolding in front of the entire school.

The kid gave one last violent nod before running at a full sprint up into the stands, back towards the castle and Mattheo was back on his broom to a cacophony of cheers as he flew past you.

Your cheeks were flushed cherry red at the thought that he had stopped in the middle of his game to talk about you... surely that wasn't the case. Was it? The box around you was full of excited whispers and Pansy nudged you conspiratorially with raised eyebrows.

"I have no idea what's going" you hissed back, in an effort to keep things quiet.

Not ten minutes later, the whispers around you turned to murmurs again that got louder and louder until you turned to see the third year from earlier, nearly purple in the face from exertion tripping over himself and the people around him.

"M'looking for YN, YN, Riddle's girl?"

Riddle's girl.

The jersey on your back hadn't fooled a soul, they all pointed to you. He nearly collapsed at your feet, as he held up his hand, Mattheo's jersey fisted in his fingers as he huffed and puffed.

"Ma—Mattheo—Mattheo wants you to wear this. P-Please. Please put it on. Idon'twanthimtokillme, he said he would kill me if you didn't, I-I really think he meant it" he said through gasping breaths as his eyes watered.

Your hand covered your mouth to hide your smile.

"He is not going to kill you" you said reassuringly, as you let out a small laugh, the big bad Mattheo everyone was so afraid of so different than the boy you knew so well.

"But c-can you please put it on. Please. Just to be sure?" he whimpered.

You thought about his words as you ran your finger over the fabric of Mattheo's name. 'Mattheo wants you to wear this.' He had stopped in the middle of his match to make a kid go get it, you weren't going to say no. You pulled it on over your sweater, enjoying the lingering smell of him that now engulfed you as you blushed to yourself.

Mattheo was watching out of the corner of his eye as he dodged a bludger, and when he turned to see you wearing his name, a soft smile on your lips, he felt a calm settle over him, as something warm settled in his chest. Pride he realized after a moment. Pride for his last name, and pride for you in it.

Mattheo had turned the tide of the game scoring three goals and leading Slytherin to a victory. The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you bustled your way towards the locker room to wait for him. You could hear the team chanting and singing in celebration and you were ready to wait a long time for him to finally break away from his friends, but it was only minutes before he pushed through the door.

The crowd that had gathered cheered for him but he didn't respond, his eyes scanning the horde before they landed on you. He shoved a few people out of the way before the rest cleared a path for him and when he was finally in front of you, you couldn't help but glow at him, proud of the way he played and warm and fuzzy inside at all that he'd done for you.

"Babe—!" you started as he smiled at you, and then he grasped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips inciting a loud round of shouts and cheers around you. He smelled like wet leather from his gloves, grass, dirt and sweat and yet it was intoxicating to you, because it was him. He let go of you only briefly enough to flip your onlookers the middle finger before he guided you quickly away from prying eyes.

"C'mon" he said.

"Oh! Okay—bye, Pansy" you said, waving at her as she winked at you.

Mattheo held you firmly at a fast pace until you were away from the crowd.

"Hey-hey slow down!" you said, pulling him to a stop. "...Thank you for that." Your eyes were wide and warm as they looked up at him. "I know it's silly, and maybe it felt a little too fast or too serious or something" you said, your words flying out as you tried to explain it. "I just—it's—I'm yours and I want people to know that. I'm proud of it."

He cleared his throat and looked around, trying to rearrange his face so as not to show the emotion that was welling up inside of him. Proud. You were proud. Of him, to be his. He looked back at you glowing up at him like a godsdamn angel and wondered what the fuck he ever did to deserve you.

"Told you it looked good on you" is all he could manage at first, and a warm smile lit your face, but you waited patiently, knowing there was more, knowing just how much his brain tended to work in overdrive.

"Look, my name, it's not...good... it's not something to be proud of. People hate it, fuck, I hate it—" he said as he ran his hand through his hair and avoided your gaze, never having come close to saying anything like this out loud before. He swallowed before he felt your hand slip into his and looked down at you. "—But seeing you in it?... I don't know... made me think...maybe it doesn't always have to be that way..."

Now you were trying to rearrange your face, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

He searched your expression desperately, were those good tears, sad tears?

You slid your arms around him and hugged him to you, pressing your body against his and he relaxed into your arms.

"So, yeah, it's yours if you want it" he said, as he nuzzled into you, referring to the jersey, and his last name too...one day.

"Of course I do" you said adamantly.

He pulled back and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply, passionately, sending your heart aflutter in your chest.

"Now I think you owe me my favorite part of my pre-match routine, Riddle" he whispered against your lips.

"Gladly" you whispered back against his lips.

[saetoru]

BEWARE OF PHAGOCYTIC RAIN — AL-HAITHAM.

kinktober day three — aphrodisiacs ; find masterlist here

synopsis. the akademiya textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea, and mild sexual arousal. except the textbook lied. it’s not mild. al-haitham and you might need to pause your desert trip for a moment

length. 4.3k words (omg this is the shortest one so far)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs + dub con, mentions of injuries and blood (al-haitham gets stung by a consecrated scorpion), reader sits on his lap, hand jobs, unprotected sex, no prep, riding, creampie, implied (future) multiple orgasms, reader is mentioned to have a dendro vision + is a haravatat scholar

notes. i made this up. the new consecrated scorpions lore is that their venom can be a sex stimulant thanks

“haitham,” you complain—although, you probably really shouldn’t. in fact, you definitely should not complain. al-haitham has so graciously allowed you to accompany this trip to the desert, and you should not get in the way. still, your feet ache, and the sun is blaring, and god—would kill you both to have a break? “can’t we just stop for a bit?”

but with you, al-haitham is always patient. you can see him diligently take the time to be patient as he stills and sighs quietly, not letting himself ever get frustrated with you. “it’ll get cold if night falls,” he reasons, “c’mon, you’ll definitely want to rest inside the ruins instead of outside tonight.”

“but baby,” you protest, “my feet hurt.”

“i know,” he nods, like validating your feelings will make them any better, “but the safest option would be to camp inside the ruins instead of out here—”

“hey, haitham?” you cut him off, suddenly whispering quietly as you huddle closer, “what…what’s that?” he looks over his shoulder to where you point—and then he stiffens.

“oh, great,” he hisses, groaning under his breath, “seriously? now?”

what looks like a giant scorpion seems to be pacing in the distance, the large, sharp stinger on its tail clear as day, even from where you stand, a good range away. you’ve never seen one of these before, never even heard of giant scorpions that roam the desert. al-haitham has certainly never told you about seeing them, with all the times he visits the desert himself. he seems rather familiar with them, too, staring exasperatedly off at the beast as it circles the territory you absolutely have to pass.  

“why is there a giant scorpion here? are there always these things in the desert? i’ve never heard of—wait,” you pause, “i have a textbook from the akademiya on desert exploration. i brought it just in case!”

“we don’t need that,” he insists, “i’ve dealt with these plenty of times. just leave it to me.”

you’ve never been to the desert—but al-haitham always mentions the ancient letters he sees in the ruins he explores. it’s tempting; being a scholar is always the never-ending temptation of knowledge—and you are both haravatat scholars, after all. studying an ancient alphabet is enough to make you plead with al-haitham to take you with him on his next trip.

he can’t say no to you, of course—he never can. but it’s your first time here, and evidently…it’s not going exactly as planned. 

you open the book, skimming through the pages before your eyes land on a sketch that looks strikingly similar to the same beast you see in the distance. the textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. that seems like complete and utter bullshit—this seems rather deadly. 

“haitham,” you whisper, “i think we should leave. this doesn’t seem—”

“we can take it,” he argues, “i’ve taken them before on my own quite a lot in the past.”

“but baby, this one seems a bit big—”

“it’ll be fine,” he assures. 

you sigh, looking back at the book and scanning over the section that goes into detail about its attack patterns. “okay, fine—let me just read over how they attack so i know what to expect.”

phagocytic form—beasts enter phagocytic form immediately when in combat, resulting in an increase in resistance to all elements. there is double the resistance to electro attacks. well, you think, it’s a good thing cyno isn’t the one fighting today—otherwise, you think you might be screwed. 

this is fine. everything is fine. you and al-haitham both have dendro visions; this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

melee combo one—beasts perform a two-part combo with their claws. alright, not too bad. you can easily dodge that, you reason. melee combo two—beasts perform a three-part combo consisting of a single strike with both claws, a flurry of claw strikes while rushing forward, and a projectile fired from its stinger. now that seems a bit troublesome, but you’ve dealt with worse. 

“i’ll take care of it,” al-haitham calls over his shoulder, catching your attention as he draws out his sword. you look up from the pages frantically. 

“wait, i really think we should handle this together if we’re going to take this. just let me read on the attack patterns a bit more—”

he’s already made the first attack. you can hear the angry hiss of the scorpion, can practically see the fury in its beady eyes from behind the thick skull covering its head. al-haitham, to your slight comfort, dodges melee combos one and two expertly. 

maybe he was right—maybe you’ve been panicking for nothing.

you look back at the book. dig—beasts dig into the ground and attack the target from below, staying within the range of a visible electro ring. alright, as long as you leave the ring before the scorpion pops out of the ground, you should be fine. nothing to worry about. spikes—beasts plug their tails into the ground and rapidly produce spikes around themselves to shock targets. another easy dodge—you just have to make sure you escape the vicinity.

you look up, and al-haitham has already easily leapt from the ring and landed himself on higher ground. he waits, watches as the beast emerges from underground, and plants its tail into the ground—this must be the spikes. al-haitham is rather excellent at fighting these things—you have to admit. as soon as the spikes are gone, he takes his chance to plunge down, perfectly landing a hard hit to its head with the edge of his sword, making its body slump to the ground.

he might just finish this alone like he said. 

“there,” he nods, flashing you a smooth grin, “i told you i’d handle it. now then, let’s—”

the loud, sinister hiss from behind cuts him off—it makes you watch in abject horror as the scorpion rises and does a rapid spin. 

you look over the pages as quickly as you can—is there more? there’s nothing else on the page, is there? you quickly flick your eyes to the next page and—oh. 

oh no.

phagocytic rain—beasts rapidly spin and scatter many stingers into the air before slamming their claws and unleashing stingers down from above. these stingers, once pierced into the skin, can cause side effects as a result of consecrated venom.

“well, it’s never done that before,” al-haitham holds up his sword, getting ready to fight. 

no. he has to get away—he needs to get away. the words don’t come quick enough from your throat as you scream, “haitham, no! you have to get away—”

it’s too late. you can hear him let out a strangled groan of pain, clutching his arm as his sword instantly falls to the floor, a gash already decorating his skin from a stinger he didn’t manage to dodge. before you can even think, you grab your weapon and run, leaping between al-haitham and the scorpion and landing another perfect blow to its head��just before that giant, deadly-looking stinger on its tail can plunge into him.

it goes limp, falling to the floor with a thud, the glow of its body dimming instantly.

“fuck,” he curses—al-haitham rarely curses. this is not a light sting. “since when do they do that?”

“since forever,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of his cape to press on his wound and stop the blood flow, “maybe if you’d just listened to me and read the attack patterns with me, you’d have known that.”

“i’ve fought these plenty of times,” he says indignantly, teeth still grit in pain, “they never do that.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a know it all,” you grumble—but then you gently reach over, cupping his cheek as you trace a thumb over the skin comfortingly, “is it too bad?” you ask, concern evident enough in your tone that he feels slightly bad. 

al-haitham shakes his head, sighing quietly as you kiss his jaw. “i’ll be fine. i’ll just patch it up before we camp for the night.”

“are you sure? maybe we should—”

“it’ll be fine,” he hums, “their venom isn’t deadly anyway.”

—————

you and al-haitham manage to make it to the ruins by nightfall. somehow, miraculously, the two of you are able to trek towards the pyramid and seek shelter indoors for the night, right before it gets too dark and too cold.

al-haitham seems to act stranger and stranger as time goes on, quietly sitting in a corner against the wall and patching his arm up himself as you set up the fire by the tent. you look over at him and watch as he shudders and groans lightly. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” you ask in concern, walking over and sitting as you curl up next to him, raising a brow as his body seems to stiffen at your touch, “baby, you seem…”

“i’m fine,” he says curtly. 

you don’t seem to be convinced, furrowing your brows before pressing a palm to his forehead—hot. incredibly and unnaturally hot skin that’s flushed a shade of crimson you hardly see on al-haitham, even when you tease him in that cheeky, flirty little way of yours that dusts blush over his face every time. 

“haitham,” you gasp, hand brushing back his bangs to feel more of his skin—it’s only then, do you realize just how sweaty his skin seems to be, too. “you’re burning up!”

“i’m okay—”

“maybe you should take your shirt off,” you say quickly, wiping the sweat from his forehead as you sit up straight, “it’s just the two of us here, anyway. it’ll be fine—”

“no,” he grits, voice strangled, “i’m—hah” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, “—i’m okay. just leave me alone, please. i’ll just go walk it off in a bit.”

he’s panting. you can hear the way his voice is strained and the way his chest rises and falls rather rapidly. you should check the book again, just to see if there’s anything about the side effects in the event you do happen to get stung. 

“hmm, the textbook says—”

“do not read the textbook,” he practically begs. 

you do anyway. “possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea,” you start, glancing up at him and eyeing his patched arm, “well, there was some swelling. are you nauseous?”

“no,” he almost wheezes out. 

“let’s see, and it also says it can cause—oh.” 

possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea—you pause and swallow thickly as you read over the final part—and mild sexual arousal. sexual arousal. well, that would explain the heated and flushed skin, you suppose. and the sweat. you glance up at al-haitham—he does anything but meet your eyes. 

“i told you,” he says stiffly, muffling a groan as he crosses his arms and hunches forward, “i’ll be fine—”

“baby,” you hum, chuckling slightly as you run a hand through his hair—he gulps, still avoiding your gaze, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“don’t,” he warns, jaw clenching as he looks up and stares at you with that same look of hunger you’ve seen so many times before. it’s clear al-haitham is trying to fight off whatever he’s feeling—but the reality is clear. 

he’s very quickly losing himself to his desires. 

“but it’s just us in here,” you insist, hand trailing down his chest slowly before settling on his thigh. his breath hitches, following your hand with his eyes as it rubs along slowly and moves closer and closer inwards. “these ruins have been abandoned for who knows how long—and we’re the only ones from the akademiya cleared to explore them.”

“don’t,” he says again—there’s a warning tone to his voice this time, slightly more raspy and entirely more breathless, “if…if i start, i don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.”

“oh, but haitham,” you pout, slinging a leg over his waist and seating yourself on his lap. you stare down at his crotch—wet. there’s a very noticeable wet patch over the bulge in his pants. you wonder how you didn’t notice it sooner. “who says i’d want you to stop?”

“love, i’m serious,” he closes his eyes and swallows, panting as a bead of sweat rolls down his temple, “you should sleep. i’ll be okay—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, hissing as you reach past his waistband and free his strained cock from the confinements. 

it’s thick, his erection—probably far more swollen than you’ve ever seen it before. it almost looks painful, with how red it is at the tip, with how it twitches from nothing else but the cool air hitting the heated skin. you think it might just be aching, in fact, from how he whimpers as you wrap a hand around it, just barely squeezing, just barely applying pressure to really relieve anything.

“hmm,” you look down, inspecting, “seems sensitive.” you give it a slow, experimental stroke, instantly making him groan loudly as his head falls back, a stream of pre cum leaking from the tip enough to coat his already slick cock. 

“fuck, fuck—more,” he rasps, hand grabbing your thigh and squeezing hard to ground himself.

“okay,” you murmur, nodding to yourself, “very sensitive. guess we’ll just have to get this out of your system.”

you drag your hand over his length, slow at first, before building up a quick, steady rhythm—just the way he’s always liked it. you lean in, kissing along his jaw as he writhes under you while you squeeze around the base of his cock, rolling your palm over his tip before repeating the motion over and over and over again. 

his mouth is parted, low groans and the occasional soft whine fall past his lips, making the ache between your own legs worsen as you watch him fall apart. there’s a dull throb in your core, and you can feel the fabric of your underwear dampen, but all you’re worried about for now is the man before you. any other time, you’d think it’s a bit shameless, doing something so dirty, so filthy, so inappropriate in the middle of the desert like this–especially while on a research expedition, no less. but you couldn’t just leave your boyfriend to suffer like this, could you? what kind of girlfriend would you be then? and you’re not so cruel as to leave al-haitham to suffer like this all night, or longer, even—who knows how long before the side effects wear off? it’s the wisest choice to just help him, to take care of him like he always takes care of you.

that’s right, you think to yourself—you’re helping him like any doting lover would. you’re not at all interested by this predicament of his…or aroused, for that matter. no, you’re simply worried for him, and it’s up to you to relieve him of the painfully frustrating tension he must be suffering through after he so graciously fought to protect you from the dangers of the desert.

“jus’ like that,” he gasps as you touch him, chest still rising and falling as quickly as before—his shirt is damp too, a noticeable wet patch forming over most of it as the sweat collects on the fabric, “d-don’t stop—fuck, feels so good.”

“c’mon, haitham,” you murmur, taking your other hand to tug at the end of his shirt, “take this off—i told you, you’ll feel better.”

he listens—whatever is in that venom must be something strong because al-haitham is the most stubborn individual you’ve ever met. under normal circumstances, he’d refuse to take his shirt off even if, deep down, he knew himself it’d help. but right now, he quickly reaches at the hem before pulling it off, tossing it to the side as his bare chest is exposed for you to admire. his usual pale skin is flushed, a soft pink that glistens from the sweat that he can’t seem to get rid of, even as you work his swollen cock with your fist. 

it’s pretty, the way he sounds, the way he looks. you run a thumb over his slit, and he whimpers. not too often of times have you heard al-haitham whimper—but today, he seems to have lost any and all control, too busy thrusting his hips up to meet your strokes as he moans lowly. 

“when’d you start to feel it?” you ask curiously, pecking his forehead as you leave scattered kisses along his face, “how long have you been trying to play it off?”

“s-since…” he starts, but he trails off as your thumb traces over a thick being along the underside of his length, letting out a soft whine at the feeling before bucking his hip into your hand more desperately. you don’t think you’ve ever seen al-haitham so worked up—so needy and riled up and painfully fucked out before he’s even cum yet. “since i f-first got stung,” he admits through labored breaths, “just got worse slowly.”

“you should’ve told me,” you coo, “not like i don’t see you like this anyway. poor thing,” you pout softly, eyeing the way his cock twitches in your hand, more beads of pre cum oozing from the tip and leaving a stream down his length, “looks like it hurts.”

“it does,” he rasps, “feels…feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“don’t worry,” you hum, squeezing tighter around him, working him quicker as your hand jerks his aching cock off with a tight fist, “i’ll help you cum. ‘s what you deserve for fighting that thing for me. my strong baby.”

“c-close,” he says through a cracked voice, like the praise is enough to send him hurtling over the edge, “‘m so close—sh-shit.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly, pecking his forehead, “then cum, baby. think you’ll feel much better.”

you roll a thumb over his nipple, hard under the pad of your thumb, and enough to make him gasp loudly before he lets out a deep grunt, cum spilling from his sensitive tip. it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him—thick, endless ropes of hot, sticky cum coating your hand and his abs as you pump his cock through his orgasm. you’re glad you made him take his shirt off—this would’ve been an even more unpleasant trip if he’d had to walk around in a soiled shirt.

“fuck, f-fuck—so g-good,” he stutters, his head thrown back against the wall that supports his body, legs spreading apart to give you better access to working his cock through his high. one hand reaches to play with his balls as you milk his cock, squeezing as you stroke upwards and watch every thick drop of cum shoot past his tip. 

it feels like forever, his orgasm. it’s long, and his voice is strained from calling your name over and over by the time he’s finished—but he’s still just as hard as before. no—in fact, you think he might be even harder. 

“well…” you start, staring at his erection as it rests against his sculpted abs, “i don’t think that did much.”

“no,” he pants, staring at you through lust-hazed eyes, “it didn’t. but i have an idea that might help, though.”

“yeah? what is it, oh wise grand sage?”

al-haitham, for the first time ever, doesn’t correct you that he’s the acting grand sage. instead, he lifts you up slightly and pulls your pants down to pool at your ankles before lining your dripping cunt over his cock. you bite your lip, moving to ever so slightly drag his tip along your clit, making the both of you shiver with a desperate gasp at the ghost friction.

“i think,” he starts, finger circling your clit slowly as you whine before letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, “that perhaps fucking you might be the only way to get this out of my system. what do you say?”

“haitham, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his shoulders as you clutch onto him, “need you.”

“yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly, replacing his finger and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock, coating the head with the slick of your pussy as you quiver over him, “need me, huh? i thought i was the one who got stung. shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

you would scoff if you weren’t aching to feel the burning stretch of him intruding your neglected cunt—al-haitham always finds a way to be himself at the end of the day. always so frustratingly confident and painfully good at teasing. 

“fuck me, haitham,” you plead, pushing your hips down until the first few inches of his length push past your entrance, dragging his tip along your folds and pulling a whine from you as he chokes on a low groan.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, “so tight—a-always so tight.”

his hands grasp at your hips, slowly guiding you to sink all the way down on his cock, taking it inch by inch until he’s buried all the way, his tip nudging perfectly against that sensitive spot in the back of your walls. al-haitham feels like he’s been made just for you like that���fitting you perfectly enough that he hits all the right spots without even trying, without even having to angle his hips in order to give you what you need from him.

you feel sweat collect on your own forehead, mirroring the same glistening of his own skin as you bite your lip and whimper out a pathetic, “h-haitham, more—please.”

“it’s a good thing i brought you with me,” he pants as he snaps his hips up, his hands still guiding your hips to bounce on his cock as you pull up before slamming back down, your walls hugging his thick girth tightly while his fat tip presses against your sweet spot. “imagine where i’d be if you weren’t here. j-jus’ wouldn’t feel the same if i was fucking my fist instead of this sweet cunt.”

the stretch is too good—the way he splits you open as he bullies into your pussy, pushing past your folds and dragging his thick veins along your walls, makes your head spin, pleasure burning up your nerves and spreading across your entire body. your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin as he groans and tightens his bruising grip on your hips.

“b-baby—fuck, ‘s so good,” you mewl, “h-haitham—oh.”

“take me so well,” he says breathlessly, face falling slack as your walls flutter around his length and relieve the ache that was all too overwhelming just a few moments ago—being buried into your pussy is enough to turn the tight grit of his jaw into a loose, parted lips as he moans your name. “taking it so well, like the good girl you are. you—ngh, fuck—you want to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“i do,” you nod, sobbing as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harsh circles into the delicate bundle of nerves, “i do, i do—please, haitham. faster, need more.”

“yeah?” he lets out a strangled chuckle, biting his lip and groaning as you snap your hips down particularly rough, squeezing around him tightly, “you need more? i’d almost say you were stung instead of me.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving angry, red marks in their wake as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. you slam down on him with every roll of your hips, his own meeting you halfway as he bucks up, fucking into you—you can feel it, the impending high that you reach closer and closer to, every circle of his thumb on your clit and every brush of his cock against your walls bringing you close to falling off the edge.

“‘m…g-gonna cum, haitham—fuck, a-almost there, baby,” you pant, mewling as you throw your head back while he leans in to kiss your neck, biting hard enough that you almost wonder if there’s blood.

“me too,” he groans, “you…you’re so perfect,” you feel his head bury into your shoulder, his forehead digging into your shoulder as you cradle the back of his head with a hand and whine, “i’m bringing you to every trip—fuck you in every ruin i explore. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“yes, yes—please,” you babble, nodding as your back arches before you feel the coil snap—you gasp his name, a repeat of haitham, haitham, haitham, falling from your lips as he fucks into you through your high. the spasm of your walls around him sends him hurtling into his second orgasm—even more earth-shattering than the first.

“that’s it,” he moans, his voice deep and raspy as it cracks in the middle, “can’t even be mad i got stung—not when you let me fuck you l-like this. so…feels so good—’m c-cumming.”

it’s not the first time al-haitham has cum in you—but it’s never felt like this before. it’s hot, his cum—it spills into you and coats your walls in a sticky mess that forms a ring at the base of his cock as it pumps into you. the mess of his release and your arousal coats both of your thighs, leaking from your abused cunt and smearing along your skin. you can feel him twitch with every rope, can feel the way he throbs as he spills into you and paints your walls white with his release. it’s desperate—needy and so, so filthy, just like the sounds he makes into your ear, breathless pants that make your stomach do flips as you listen to him fall apart and break. 

he slumps as he finishes, your body falling against him as you both pant harshly and catch your breaths. he kisses your neck delicately as you stroke his hair, admiring his spent form under you.

“as much as i hate that you got stung,” you mumble, “this…this might not have been the worst thing.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, looking up and raising a brow—it’s only then that you feel it, the twitch of his still hard cock, still buried deep in your abused cunt, “are you sure? because we aren’t nearly finished yet—i really hope you’re prepared to take it.”

the textbook may have lied, you think—this is not mild at all. this might delay your trip quite a bit.

i would go with him hoping he gets stung every time so i could suck the soul out of him tbh

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[navybrat817]

Here's Stud

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's cardigan reminds you of something straight out of a horror film and you have some fun with it.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, silliness, implied sex, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he adores you. Also references to The Shining and my apologies to Stephen King.

A/N: I dedicate this silly Stud and Smartie ficlet to @targaryenvampireslayer for being so awesome. ❤️ @yenzys-lucky-charm , I may have included something from the "spooky" bouquet. 😉 Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky pushed some of his hair back as he got comfortable in his chair. With the gentle rain coming down outside and the chores done for the day, it was the perfect time for him to curl up with a book. Naturally you took a moment to watch him from the kitchen. In your head you were giving him dreamy eyes, but in reality you probably looked like some sort of creep who stared for far too long.

“See something you like, Smartie?” Bucky asked, not looking up from his book as he turned the page. Of course, he felt your eyes on him. “You don’t have to just look. You can touch, too. I don’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “Oh, I know you want me to touch you, Stud, but you just started reading,” you pointed out. And, really, didn’t you want to touch him, too? He had such a touchable, sexy body. And his hair. So soft, thick, good for pulling. And that beard. Sweet fucking Jesus.

But that cardigan he was wearing…

“So, you do want to touch,” he smirked once you went into the living room, his eyes flickering up to yours. His brows furrowed when he saw your phone in hand. “I guess you want to look and touch?”

“Yeah, we’ll say that,” you said, making sure you were recording. “Looking handsome as ever.”

“And you look as beautiful as ever.” His eyes swept over you, making you weak in the knees and a giggle escape. It would never get old receiving a compliment from him. “Wait, are you snapping a picture or recording a video?”

“Video,” you replied, a happy sigh escaping. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiled, tenderness in his eyes and voice. To be on the receiving end of that was something else. Your heart was warm and full.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” you sighed again, clearing your throat to sound a bit more serious. “And now that we’ve established that we very much love each other, please look right here and say you won't chop me up with an axe.”

You remembered the day you went to check out the apartment and Bucky had to assure a loved one that he wasn’t going to murder or do anything to you if you moved in. He took it in stride and promised he’d be nothing but a caring and respectful roommate. But now a horrified look crossed his face, which nearly made your heart burst. He didn’t like you experiencing any sort of pain, even hypothetical or unrealistic. “What the… Of course, I’m not going to chop you up with an axe! I would never! Where is that even coming from?”

“Are… Are you serious? Did you not notice the pattern on the cardigan?” You turned the camera to face you for a second before you focused it back on him. “Under normal circumstances, I’m very much aware you would never do a thing like that, but today you look like you jumped out of a horror film. You know the one I’m talking about.”

He tugged a bit at the fabric, realization filling his eyes after he took another look at it. “You just said I look as handsome as ever!”

He's so cute.

“And you do. You look good in anything and everything, carpet patterns included, but I’m half expecting you to go, ‘Hello, Smartie! Come and play with me!’” He laughed when your voice changed. “‘Come and play with me, Smartie! Forever and ever and ever…’”

He laughed harder. Yeah, you were a dork at times, but you were his dork and he enjoyed your humor. “But I do want you to play with me forever and ever and ever.”

“I will happily play with you, but if you say we’re checking into a secluded hotel in the mountains soon, you better cancel the reservation and demand a refund.” You smiled at the ridiculousness of this, but silly moments meant the world. “And don’t even think about that as a honeymoon destination. No way.”

“Oh, we both know I can be a little bit more creative than that,” he said, closing his book.

“Hold on, where are you going?” You called after him when he got up and left the room.

“You’ll see,” he said over his shoulder, heading toward your bedroom.

You followed him a bit, still recording and very much curious as to what he was doing. “Should I be scared or horny? Or both? That’s a thing, right?” A small pout formed on your face when he didn’t answer you. Did you hurt his feelings? That was the last thing you wanted to do. “Hey. I’m sorry. It’s still a nice cardigan and it isn’t your fault that-”

“Heeeeeeeeeere’s Stud!”

You nearly dropped your phone when Bucky popped his head out from your bedroom door with a wild look on his face and his hair disheveled. He looked unhinged, which made your heart pound. But when he held up his hand to show you what he was holding, you almost burst out laughing. “Oh, my God! That’s my vibrator!”

His eyebrows wiggled up and down. “It sure is, Smartie. Darling. Light of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smiled. And you adored him.

“Look, I’m not chopping you up with an axe, I’m not a total psycho. But I don’t mind using this weapon on you.” He twirled it around in his hand with ease. How the hell did he do that? “Though if I am going to murder your pussy, it’s going to be with my cock and not some toy.”

You shrieked when he smirked that filthy, gorgeous smirk of his, your face hot and tingling between your thighs. He said it so casually, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t go back to his book for the rest of the day. He’d drag you to bed and try to “kill” you with his cock. “Have I created some sort of monster or are you possessed by some… pussy murdering spirit because of the sweater?” Your breath caught in your throat as he fully opened the door and advanced on you, making you step back. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing? No, it’s we. And we are going to make our own version of The Shining.” He slowly ran his tongue along his lips as his eyes drifted down your body. “You getting that shine all over my face, fingers, and cock.”

“Holy shit,” you gasped. Yeah, you could get on board with that. You could very much get on board with that. “Okay, but maybe I should stop recording for this next part?”

“Actually, you should keep recording. More camera sex makes Stud a happy boy.” Your eyebrows shot up as he smirked and got closer, close enough for you to inhale his cologne and make your knees weak all over again. “What do you say?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

“I take it back. I haven’t created a monster. I think I’ve summoned a demon,” you teased.

“There’s always a price to pay when a demon is summoned. Time to pay up,” he smiled, his lips meeting yours in a dizzying kiss.

And for the rest of the day and well into the evening, Bucky was very happy indeed.

I can't help it, lovelies. I will adore them forever. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[forbidden-sin-bin]

Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

[hminnj]

Maybe In A Different Age

Senku/fem reader

cw: angst no comfort (i tried) ik this fandom kinda dead lowkey but I wanted to write this cause its so senku coded. Senku's an idiot (unsuprisingly). Not very good writing.

wc: uhh i wrote this in my notes, around 1k probably

-

Byakuya brings two strangers into their house on a random thursday.

"Senku, this is a close friend and her daughter, I'm sure you guys will get along splendidly."

"Ok."

Five year old Senku is harshly blunt when he meets you for the first time, staring at him silently as if you've never seen a human before. He doesn't have anything to say and it seems neither do you, so he walks off, deciding he has better things to do. Promptly ignoring the sigh and apology the older man lets out.

.

"So I got this new idea and I'm going through the basic logistics and research right now, might need your help later."

"I'll go get us some snacks and something to do while you work on it then."

Six year old Senku watches you dissappear from his doorway, absentmindedly humming while you head to the very familiar kitchen. Your family has been apparently busy as of late so he forcibly sees your face more often. You usually just eat his food, do your work, and ask him (dumb) questions. You're a friend now, he supposes.

.

"Hey dum dum, Byakuya got me new equipment, so I have some new ideas. So listen up."

"Course Senku!"

Seven year old Senku grins, you're always willing to help him out for whatever reason you have (something weird probably, in his opinion). In return, he always tells you what he's working on and his labor demands. So per usual, he excitedly gets into the details of the next project that he plans on working you and Taiju to the bone for.

.

"Hey Senku?"

"What?"

"I think I love you."

"Huh? You better not be catching feelings dum dum." He gives you a confused squint after hearing your words.

"Whatever you say." You hum

Eight year old Senku hears you say those three words for the first time, you don't say why and he doesn't know either. He thinks its rather idiotic, but he shrugs it off after you silently go back to reading. You've been picking up books more often as of late, not that he cares much.

.

"You're late for the test runs, Taiju and Yuzuriha already left."

"Sorry sorry! My teacher held me up a little later at practice today."

"Hm." His disappointed stare returns.

"Im sorry..? Love you?" You're sheepish with your response.

"How is that supposed to make up for anything? Now come help me carry this stuff"

"As you wish, princess Senku."

Nine year old Senku doesn't understand why you and Byakuya tell him that so often (or that stupid nickname sourced from his "feebleness"), but he moves on quickly to detail the results of the test and the numerous next steps. Much to his pleasure.

.

"Wake up stupid. You fell asleep." Senku (roughly) shakes you awake from your shoulders, poking at your face a few times.

"Huh? Oh sorry Senku, I guess I'm just tired."

"Well you're not gonna wanna miss this." He grins while looking up, expectant.

"Hm. Hey the moons pretty tonight yeah?"

"It looks the same as it always does. Is that poetry getting to you and making you sappy?"

You wait before responding, "Maybe."

Eleven year old Senku keeps you up on certain nights for his projects or for nights like these where there's a meteor shower. He thinks you should stop reading so much of those books that make you sound like Byakuya. You should also get more rest, he adds.

.

"Happy Valentines Day Senku!! Got you a gift, heh."

"Must I tell you again?" Senku turns to a usual sight, you waving a gift in front of his face as if he were a dog.

"I'm good I just wanted to remind you."

"Right."

Twelve year old Senku doesn't see the point in meaningless feelings or holidays for said feelings. Nevertheless, he takes the homemade chocolate from you, skimming through the card which contents include exactly what he expected (a confession of sorts, again), and placing it to the side. Ignoring it in favor of the much more sensible chemicals in front of him. Like every year though, Senku keeps it. He doesn't know why.

.

"Taiju and Yuzuriha definitely have something going on don't you think?"

"And you're bringing this up why?"

You pause, you know why, but you know he wouldn't understand. "It's cute... wish I could have something like that you know?"

"...For the last time-"

"I know I know Senku, don't worry I'll try to bother you less."

Thirteen year old Senku doesn't see you as much anymore, mostly because of your practice that your mom wants you to perfect. You come over less nowadays, a shame (for his projects obviously), but your presence isn't any smaller of an intrusion at school. So much for bothering him less.

.

Around 21:00 is when he hears the familiar ringing of his doorbell. "It's late, why are you here?"

"Got out of training not too long ago and wanted to see you before I headed in."

"Your house isn't even remotely close to mine" A raised eyebrow is all you get in response to your grin.

"What does it matter when I'm already here, but gotta go before I get scolded. Goodnight Senku, Love you!"

"You know it's never gonna happen, as you know-"

"Yeah yeah, 10 billion percent illogical, I know, but I can't let my favorite person forget can I?" You flash another smile.

"As if I'd ever with how often you say it, now goodnight."

Fourteen year old Senku closes the door after you've cheerfully said your bye and faded from his sight enough. The lack of noise is strange, now that Byakuya has "ascended like an angel" (his words not Senkus) it's much quieter. The usual noise of a certain two people is absent more often than not. He let's the silence of the house sit in.

.

"Hey, can you get me something from the storage real quick? Need it soon but that bonehead forgot when he came up here babbling about confessing to Yuzuriha"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you. Always here. You know that Sen."

Fifteen year old Senku glances at your fleeting figure. The nickname is new, for sure. And he can't say he dislikes it, but the lack of a certain three words with your departure is strange. He brushes it off to your usual forgetfulness and peers out the window at Taiju and Yuzuriha. Thoughts preoccupied until a bright green light overtakes his vision and he can't do anything but think into the void.

So he counts.

And maybe every once in a while you pop into his head like you always do.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku wakes up to a world where theres a lack of civilization, a lack of his decency, and most importantly, a lack of you.

You would be useful right now, he supposes.

.

Three-thousand and something year old Senku spends his free time trying to find you and the rest of the "gang" (as you would say).

He finds Taiju, he finds Yuzuriha, he also finds a lion-punching maniac, but there's no sign of you.

He's ten billion percent sure you survived.

Right?

The concerned stare Yuzuriha gives him as they part is ignored.

.

(Physically) Sixteen year old Senku celebrates this birthday gazing into the sky from his new observatory. It reminds him of a lot of things, but he can't help but notice how empty it is, it's eerily quiet.

He doesn't like it.

Senku wishes you were here.

His first real birthday wish.

.

(Still) Sixteen year old Senku breaks when he hears his father's voice again for the first time in ages. It's not his voice that gets to Senku. He's heard it plenty enough in his lifetime. It's the mention of you.

"Just kidding! I know it's you on the other side of this Senku! And ____'s there with you right? Please tell me you're dating already or even better married so I can have grandchildren. Please please please Senku! Although you can't really tell me that but-"

Senku stops himself from showing vulnerability in front of the village, and he also stops himself from pausing the record right there and then. Opting to sigh and curse his dad out as a cover up, his fist lightly punching the table.

"Damn you old man."

The questions from the villagers about who you could be are forgotten in favor of an angelic voice. Senku's quick to tune it out. It reminds him of you.

.

(Mentally) Sixteen year old Senku sits by himself that night. It's been a long day. The constant repeat of a certain melody in the background, more work for the science kingdom, and a few questions about who you were. They stopped after a few radio silences from him, feelings are hard for the scientist after all.

It's cold.

He wishes you were here.

It's dark.

He wishes you were here.

It's lonely.

He wishes you were here.

The day he can always guarantee you're there has long passed. You should be here, is what his mind tells him. You owe him for the past 3000 years of missed birthdays after all.

It's funny, in his opinion. That you were probably most-definitely always there. And the one (multiple actually, 10 billion in his mind) time he looks for you, you're not there.

He doesn't think its funny.

"I'd do anything for you huh..."

Anything but keep your word.

He scoffs, but it's directed at himself. He would never blame you for this, or anything for that matter, he can't.

So he sits. And he stays. Like you would've wanted him too. He looks at the clear sky like you usually do. And he notes how the moon is pretty tonight. Just like you.

"I love you too."

He's 10 billion percent sure he does.

-

Thanks for reading, if you did :). Sorry for any errors not fully proofread. Senku is so right person wrong time coded when it comes to romance that i had to write this even if its lowkey bad

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's a new week

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 

You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 

"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 

"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 

"You busy, doll?" 

"Reading but... no." 

"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 

He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 

"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 

"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 

"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 

"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 

"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 

You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 

You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 

You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 

"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 

"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 

"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 

"Oh, uh..." 

"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 

You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  

You hug yourself shyly and sway. 

"Let me see ya," he orders. 

You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 

"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 

"I... really?" 

"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  

He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  

"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 

"Bucky," you squeak.  

"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 

You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 

"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 

"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 

"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."

"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."

"No, just a show," you wisp out.

You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 

"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 

"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 

"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 

He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 

"Yes," you answer softly. 

"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 

"Very handsome," you eke out. 

"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 

"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 

"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 

You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" He laughs. 

"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 

"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow," you confirm. 

"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 

🃏

The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 

You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 

Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  

You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 

Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 

Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 

"I know this one," you say. 

"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 

"Good, you, sir?" 

He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 

You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 

As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 

You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 

You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 

He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 

"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 

"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 

You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  

You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 

You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 

You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 

"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 

"Uh, I think? My name is..." 

She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 

You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  

You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 

The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 

You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 

You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 

You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 

There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 

'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 

You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 

"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 

She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 

"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 

"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 

"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 

You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you. 

[kbwrites]

JJK On The Road!

synopsis: how the jjk sorcerers are on a road trip—feat. Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Utahime

⚝a/n: I had to include baby boy Haibara.

⚝tags: headcanon, Nanami is an emo boy, Gojo is a danger to society.

They all decided to take a roadtrip after graduation… it goes a little something like this

Gojo insisted that he be the one to drive. You assumed that his six eyes would give him some kind of advantage on the road.

You were SO wrong.

Mans is a DEMON on the street. Swerving in and out of traffic, the car is either at 0 or full speed no in-between.

“Huh? Where’d that guy come from?”

“Satoru you literally cut him off-”

“The speed limit is 45”

“Yeah… but that’s more of a suggestion right??”

Of course it isn’t long before you hear the sirens closing in behind you.

“Lisence and registration please.”

“Of course Officer!”

…

“This is your high school ID”

“Oh! Well about that..”

It takes at least 5 years off your life when Satoru is behind the wheel. You somehow manage to arrive to the destination in one piece. Everyone curses him out for endangering their lives (and driving with no license)

“Okay but did you die though?”

Geto is in charge of the AUX (because last time Nanami made everyone cry)

Is the type to put on some chill oldies, and one Abba song (Because Satoru loves Abba).

Loves looking out the window and pointing out cool stuff, bums a cigarette off of Shoko to deal with the stress of Satoru's driving.

“Hey. look at that huge tree.”

The car swerves.

“Wait I don’t see anything!”

“Not you Satoru…”

Is obviously shotgun so he tries his best to stay awake, probably ends up reading a book he brought or reminding Satoru to actually pay attention to the rules of the road.

Shoko is already bored when the car starts, plays “I Spy” with Suguru for all of 3 minutes before falling asleep. After her nap she wakes up and starts taking pictures. Can make even the most mundane thing like riding in car look like an aesthetic Pinterest board. Sneaks pictures of Nanami when he isn’t looking.

“Everyone smile.”

“Wait hold on I want to be in the picture too!”

“Satoru you’re DRIVING.”

Ends up vlogging the trip, texting Utahime to confirm Satoru hasn’t killed them yet.

Nanami did NOT want to go on this trip AT ALL. He was basically forced by Gojo (then coerced by Haibara). He sulks and looking out the window and sighing.

“Nanami stop being Emo”

“I am NOT Emo..”

“Will you stop sulking if I play My Chemical Romance?”

“....”

Brings his DS or something, shows Haibara his animal crossing world. Actually freaks out when Satoru takes a ‘scenic detour’ which adds 3 hours to the trip.

Haibara is in charge of the snacks. And thank god for snacks. 

Brings one cooler for everyone else and one cooler just for Satoru cause that boy can EAT.

Feeds Nanami trail mix

Talks Nanami’s ear off about how excited he is to be done with school </3. Tries to impress Suguru and Satoru by listing off fun facts about each area they drive through.

“Did you know that this is actually the longest stretch of road in the country?”

“Wow. That’s really Something.”

“Did you know that the native flower of this region is the hibiscus?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you know that AHHH”

 Satoru swerves the car again, everyone gets thrown around the car.

Utahime  refuses to ride in a car with Gojo driving, so she meets up with you guys in her own car.

[twstowo]

Hello! I absolutely love your work it's always such a joy to read them! So, when I saw your asks were open, I had to ask fast! Can I request for a fluffy work where Jade, Rook, and Vil are painting their S/O? You can add on more if you need to.

I hope you have a nice day! ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: They paint/sketch you.

♡︎I almost exploded on Vil’s part.

♡︎Includes: Jade, Rook and Vil

♡︎Warning: Jade smirking

⋆⋅☆Jade

I can't picture him painting you, but I see him having some sketches of you in a notebook, probably filled with information about mushrooms.

After classes ended, you had a habit of lingering at Monstro Lounge. You'd order a drink, often covered by Jade's generosity. There, you would study, awaiting Jade's arrival whenever he was free. On one particular day, he observed you from a distance, engrossed in reading potionology books for an upcoming test. Although you were engaged in a mundane activity, he felt an unusual urge to capture you in his notebook, akin to documenting a rare mushroom.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Jade, is that me?" you questioned as you spotted a peculiar doodle of yourself in his mushroom-filled notebook. The two of you had gone on a hike, and to assist him in identifying mushrooms, he handed you his notebook. To your surprise, amidst the detailed fungi descriptions, you discovered a drawing of your face stuffed inside a book. Much to your dismay, Jade responded with a smirk rather than a straightforward answer.

⋆⋅☆Rook

Now Rook would be the type to paint you and have those paintings of you on the walls of his room, no shame at all. If someone entered his room, he would spend hours talking about the artworks, explaining how divine you looked to the point that he had to capture it for eternity.

He would find you in the botanical garden, staring at some flowers, and out of nowhere, you'd see him with a canvas and an easel running towards you. You have no idea how he managed to get those so fast, as you were just talking seconds ago.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“Is this really necessary?” You were already embarrassed by the fact that he wanted to paint you, but the constant remarks about your beauty made you almost pass out.

“Oh, mon Trickster, I only wish to capture forever what I deem worthy of being seen by millions, as your beauty is undoubtedly impossible to-” And he kept on talking about how much he loved you, how amazing you were, how breathtaking you looked, and how his actions were undoubtedly more than worth it. With each word, you felt your legs growing weaker.

⋆⋅☆Vil

This might start with Rook wanting to paint the two of you together as a cute couple since he was your ultimate shipper. However, Vil never seemed pleased with the paintings, stating that something was missing. You thought he was talking about him not looking as good as he wanted, but after some days, he asks you to come over, and to your surprise, he tells you that he wants to paint you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“Potato, stay still!” By the Seven, you only wanted to scratch your nose. It had been almost an hour, and you were starting to feel really hungry. You'd have to curse Grim for wasting money on his cans of tuna, leaving you with only sandwiches until the smell made you feel sick. You stared around his room, waiting for the work to be done. After all, it surely couldn’t take that much more. “Come see it.” You saw him lower the brush as he looked at you with a smile, and as you approached, you had to grab your jaw or it would drop to the floor. The way he had drawn you had nothing on Rook’s style. You looked so beautiful, it almost didn’t feel like that was you. So, that was how Vil saw you? And he was just mad that Rook couldn’t see the same thing he did.

“Oh, Vil!” You sounded so lovesick as you gave him a hug and a kiss.

[pvlvsdog]

How would Sinners react to a proposition of skinny dipping? You don't have to write all of them ofc :3

Ohhh, you are going to be the end of me /pos /nm the way I had to ponder this for so long. I’m dying

Unedited! Slight nsfw themes (mentions of nudity) ahead!

Hmm, I think Don is all for it as a fun adventure. Like, oh cool you want to swim in a lake together, this will be so fun, you can find something to jump into the water from or splash each other. If she’d be excited for having sone fun in the lake with someone, it’d be you. Those are her thoughts for exactly ten seconds before it hits her that skinny dipping also includes both parties being naked, preferably away from everyone else and pretty intimate. Her eyes get a bit wide as she’s hit with that realization but she’s Don, of course she won’t back down. Might blurt out something like ‚naked?’ Just as that thought enters her mind, not that she minds. She just doesn’t have a filter. And is very eager to do the activity with you still. Still, her openness doesn’t mean she’ll be normal about it. I could see her making quite a ruckus about sneaking off with you (not even to show off and let others know, she’s just like that plus you gave her a lot of positive emotions to process) so your little skinny dipping session will be anything but a secret. Bonus is that for a good while after you ask, you could swear her cheeks turned a semi-permanent shade of pink. The shoes stay on of course. Even when you question her about it, she’ll respond like you’re the one being silly for expecting anything else

Again with sinners being anything but normal, we have Sinclair. He’s another one who will ask the same question of „…Naked?” But in his case it’s not prefixed with excitement and joy. Not that he wouldn’t want to do it. He just didn’t expect you to propose that and even if you did, he’s still a bit surprised that you proposed that to him. He just simply… wasn’t expecting this. And with the insight I have from reading his book, I would guess that the whole concept would bring him more stress than joy. First of all, he doesn’t like himself all that much, so the perspective of stripping in front of somebody he likes… is anxiety inducing. Besides, despite keeping it all well hidden and marinating in his brain, his mind - more often than not - leads him uh. Places. He starts thinking about things he… really feels bad for thinking in relation to his favourite coworker. About your body and the connotations of your proposition. Lewd possibilities cross his mind and with each one he feels more and more awful. This is much worse than the ambiguously wet dreams plaguing his mind (as they do in the book), since at this point he at least doesn’t realise who the motherly figure in them is. But he knows you. And he feels like he shouldn’t be thinking about you in that way. You’d find that disgusting, find him disgusting. You probably already do. And he wouldn’t blame you for that. In the past (again, in the book), it took one lewd comment about a local shopkeeper from his schoolmates to get him flustered to the point he gave up on coming to the store. And he’s not much better now. A huge part of him, one that dislikes both the inside and outside of his own self, is screaming at him to decline. But there is something in the way you look at him so kindly, waiting for his response, that pushes him to ignore his innate instinct to run. You swear you could see cogs turning in his head and steam rising (sorry, that metaphor was uh, not purposefully crafted) as he mulled everything over to finally agree. But not before asking if you’re sure. I mean… you did ask. But he’s so stressed, he would rather make sure that you mean what you’re saying. The last thing he’d want is to make a fool of himself in front of you. You reassure him that your proposition still stands and you meant it. However, when push comes to shove he probably would still, albeit apologetically, ask if he could maybe stay in his shirt and boxers. Especially after seeing you strip. With a lot of encouragement you could maybe get him to give that up, but it would take a lot and he would be… rather guarded. Either way, as time in the lake goes on, he would relax a tiny bit and it would be fun. Mostly staying emerged in water though. Give him time. And uh. Don’t look down when you two get out of the water. We all know what is happening there as his eyes nearly drill holes in your figure, but I think he would actually die permanently if you acknowledged his hhh. Reaction

Rodya is much more chill with it. She gets excited right away and praises you for the good idea. When you tell her that it would be just the two of you and that she was the first person you thought of when the idea popped into your head, she grins. Well obviously she was, who’s more fun on this bus than her~ despite the self assured words and tone, there is a bit of pride as she says it. She proposes to make it a little adventure, to sneak out and make it a fun secret between the two of you. Definitely not because she’s a bit salty that you were the one to come up with the idea. I mean she likes you, she “should” come with something special to add here to impress you. Though it’s a bit reassuring that you thought that she was the best person to share this moment with. She makes the whole event ten times better, coming up with a way to sneak off unnoticed. Even if you are concerned about Vergilius finding out, she waves you off. She’s been in deeper shit than this, no need to worry. She has a way with words, as she claims. As you two strip, she teases you a bit and shamelessly takes off her clothes, fighting against herself not to show just how much she’s seeking out your starstruck gaze. Again, she tells you to relax as she watches you strip, letting slip a comment or two that are bound to rattle your brain for the next week. But for now you two enter the water. She yelps a bit and complains that it’s colder than she’d like. Overplaying the act a little bit, though you can definitely tell she’s cold. If you’re taking the temperature worse, she’d comment on it, saying how it’s crawl who the ‘cultured’ folk is. ‘Lowly ones are too used to freezing colds, it’s very easy to see~’ she says about ‘commoners’ in a playful but matter-of-factly tone. You could easily imagine Heathcliff contemplating drowning her on the spot on a bad day if he was present. But there’s no one around. Only you and her. And despite her poorly masked insecurities, this little activity you share is sure making her feel special

I firmly believe that asking Outis to skinny dip would leave you more flustered than her. Maybe she’d be surprised at first. Taken aback. You could see something in her demeanour shift as she lets out some semi-flustered explanation that it could be amateurish considering your “service” to the company. But she has a soft spot for you. So, after asking Dante (yes, she has to ask them, it’s the ‘professional way to conduct such procedures’) she informs you at what time she’ll be waiting for you. The initial surprise has worn off and from then on, oh, you’re cooked. She’d strip in a very matter of factly fashion and when she stands in front of you in all her glory, it’s hard not to blush. At the slightest hesitance she informs you that this is nothing to be embarrassed about. Her tone both confident and a little… affectionate? You could swear there was a glint of warmth in her eyes when she said it. Genuine warmth shining through her collected exterior. Times at war are (you don’t dare to correct that with a ‘were’) tough and back in her day she had seen contless soldiers in such situations. This is nothing to be ashamed about. Didn’t you request this bonding time between the two of you? It’s a good way to bring you two closer. She proclaims so with confidence, but as her words hit her, she adverts her eyes and adds that it’s good for teamwork. So what are you waiting for? It’s hard to disagree or prolong the ordeal, so soon enough both of you get into the water. She sways effortlessly along with the current and for once you can see her expression soften a little as she goes along with your attempts at small talk. Sure, that civil, personal part of her is a little rusty, but it glimmers though the cracks as she recounts some little facts and situations from the passing days. It’s hard to let her guard down. But as she watches you, submerged in the water beside her, she feels like it’s not impossible to feel something else than a calculated need for survival

As you ask Ryoshu to indulge you in your request, she takes her cigarette out of her mouth and quirks her eyebrow at you. ‚What For?’ She questions you with amusement. No matter your reasoning, she ponders for a second, snickering a little. It’s… sort of cute you want to involve her in your plans like that. Especially since it’s a bit of a bold ask, all things considered. Finally, a smirk plays on her lips as her eyes travel up and down your figure and she replies. ‚Alright, Why Not’. She’s not bothered by the whole concept, though your daring request is for sure positively interesting to her, as I said. You two set the time (well, you do, she’s chill to go along with anything really) and she tells you to lead the way. She’s not too bothered to just walk out even if you want to go during company time. She’s curious to see where it’ll go. Only when you two did yourselves of your uniforms does she change her demeanour a bit. She’s a woman of the arts after all. And there’s nothing shameful in her gaze as it drags across your body, noting every curve and scar. She definitely has eyes of an artist. And in that moment, you feel like the finest muse she had ever had (which… could be concerning considering the type of art she dabbles in, but this time her thoughts are definitely going different places than gore. For the most part). She’s fun to spend time in the water with. Witty and attentive, she gazes at the scenery around, though each time her eyes end up on you again. Albeit she’s an enigmatic woman, it’s very clear that this experience made you two somewhat closer

The real issue when asking Faust to go skinny dipping with you is to get a straightforward answer from her. Or just any answer that would tell you what she’s thinking. But it’s Faust we’re talking about. So, when you ask her if she’d be down to go skinny dipping with you after Dante officially ends the work day (you know she wouldn’t agree if this wasn’t the case) she tells you that ‘all employees are permitted to use the next twelve hours as they please, to rest, use the restroom or destress’. She says it as if she was stating the obvious. Well, she is, in a sense, but it doesn’t mean she’s making herself clear in this context. She’s doing anything but that. After you press her a bit and explains, that her response was, indeed, a “yes”. Although a very faint smile is tugging on her lips, as she asks you about the time and for the briefest of times you could swear that her (usually very distant) gaze settled on you. Still avoiding the eyes, but as it falls below your face, you wonder if it’s about something different than her habit of avoiding looking at faces this time. With how enigmatic she is, she isn’t giving you much to go off on in terms of decoding her thoughts. Even when she shows up at the time you two agreed on (seems like she appeared just as the clock struck the exact minute, but after getting to know her, that doesn’t surprise you at all). Gracefully, her hands work their way around zippers and buttons until the last item of clothing slides off of her body, only to be folded and set aside for later. Her soft, pale skin seems radiant and she waits for you to rid yourself on the uniform as well before emerging herself in water beside you. When you look at her, her eyes barely leave the surface, tracing the lines of the ripples her movement makes against the current. However, each time you look away, you can almost feel the burning gaze that settles on your figure and takes it all in

A gentle, happy smile settles on Hong Lu’s lips as you present him with the idea. How curious! Is this some sort of a ritual or a pastime poor people have? He would love to do it, he never had the chance to~. First being hungry and now taking clothes off and getting into dirty water for fun, this job is giving him so many new experiences! He asks what the purpose is. Of being naked and swimming in some (probably at least slightly contaminated) water. You didn’t suspect he knew about the horrid state of things outside of his bubble, such as water being bad/polluted, but his state of surprise seems to be contagious when you find yourself wondering about the degree to which his ignorance is a choice. As your expression clearly changes at his words, he gives you a lazy, quizzical smile. His questions need to be answered and I, dear reader, wish you good luck because you will need all of it to explain to him why you want to be in the water - alone and without clothes - with him specifically. After he seems satisfied (though you’re sure the last one or two questions were asked in an effort to fluster you), he tells you to get him when you’re ready to depart and head towards the destination of your ‘curious activity’. Once there, he gently pulls off his clothes with a bit of excitement, clearly looking forward to taking part in your plan. Before you get a chance to lead him into the murky liquid, he happily shows you his folded stack of clothes. They look… a bit unconventional in the way he had put them, but he acts with such glee that it’s hard to stay indifferent to his achievement. He tells you that he had other people handle such things before, but since that’s a thing of the past, he had learned to do it on his own. He’s very happy to share this new skill with you. It’s after that, that you two finally go thought with your plan fully. Shivering a bit, he asks if the water will be heated up. It’s up to you if you want to inform him that it’s not how natural bodies of water work or spare him such information and assure him that the longer you two stay emerged, the warmer he’ll feel (omitting that it won’t be due to any manmade mechanisms). All in all, even something you wouldn’t personally call “and exceptional experience” is like a brand new adventure with Hong Lu by your side. His musing and eager inquiries never let you drift off or grow bored. And if you’re unsure about how stimulating a chat with him can be, I assure you that his body will provide a whole array of visual stimuli as well, all on display for your eyes to explore

Next 3 couldn’t have been written without the help of my friend (you, dear anon haha^^) and I hope I didn’t disappoint~

If you were hoping for a distinct reaction from Heathcliff, you are in luck because it is indeed, definitely strong. When you ask him if he would like to skinny dip with you (either because you like the idea and want company or have just heard of the concept and want to try it out, having picked him as the best suited companion) he looks a bit… taken aback. Sure, he can be loud and most definitely wouldn’t categorise him as shy, but he’s also not blind to the implications of you offering to strip in front of him like it’s some casual activity (it’s not to him, definitely). There’s a lot of things left over from his past and even now, it clearly shows in his approach to intimacy. Not only was he ‘undesirable’ before, he had grown to expect to not have his desires met easily and without fighting for each instance of genuine affection (such as his… favourite coworker offering to be so intimate). In his head it’s still more easy to accept being The Other, the one who pleases those he cares about, someone who constantly tries to earn each instance of affection. Despite his… quite innate state of emotional constipation, he is fond of you and by extension- thinks quite highly of you. For someone who had it so reinforced from an early age that he is below the good and pure people (well, especially one person), it makes sense for you to just be your lovely self instead of initiating anything on you own, directing your attention and intimacy towards him so blatantly. Besides that he uh… well, he is all bark no bite in a sense that he didn’t have a lot of instances where he could get experience. At best he had something like this happen once or twice when he was much younger. Both the way he is and the lingering idea in the back of his head of ‘saving himself’ prevented him from familiarising himself with more. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the question came from someone else. But you get him worked up on daily over much less than skinny dipping. Heck, even when you look at him a bit too intensely during a bickering session he looses track for a moment each time without fail. But he wouldn’t be Heathcliff if he unpacked all of that. So instead your question will get a very annoyed ‚what for’. I mean. Your intentions aren’t that clear to him, like I said, he feels more natural when he’s chasing an idea, than when his desires become something writhing reach, something he doesn’t have to work for. Whatever you tell him to explain your request, it won’t be completely understandable to him because of that. But in the end a strange pull he feels on the inside (again, he’s not unpacking that) pushes him to grumble out something that is almost in agreement to your question. In turn he spends the remaining time being filled with way more tension that what would be considered reasonable. He’s not snappy, but something about the way he holds himself is very different. So much so, that Rodya calls it out at one point. Only then does he let his full annoyance out and while a few sinners muse on what could have set him off like that again, you’re left to wonder if you were the reason for his strange behaviour. He’s stuck between snapping at your coworkers and spacing out. His mind going back to the plans you two made. Each time, he finds that his gaze landed on you again and lets out a frustrated huff. As you two finally depart on your off time, he walks right by your side. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes looking somewhere off to the side. On the inside he is torn. A part of him wishes to rush towards the body of water and the other part tells him to run back to the bus. In the end he simply walks shoulder in w shoulder with you. Saying nothing until you two arrive at the place. Something stops him from undressing and compels him to instead aim his gaze at you for the first time since you guys departed. It’s then that he finds himself stuck, watching you slip out of your uniform, fabric sliding off of your form 1/2

Hungrily he notes each soft curve and sharp edge that makes up your form, his eyes taking in all the ways in which light and shadow engulf your body, creating a sight he realises now, he yearned so hard to see until now. No beauty mark, no hair, no scar escape his sight. When you turn to him, you could swear that his pronounced chest is rising up and down way pre intensely than it has any business doing so. Heath doesn’t know what to do with himself for a moment. Seeing you so bare, so purposefully there - it makes all the repressed urges inside him turn into a devouring fire that leaves his body sweating and muscles tense. It somehow feels both wrong and cathartic to have someone be here with him so wholly, with such intent. This is not like fleeting glances and meek brushing of the skin that he was told over and over he was undeserving of. This here doesn’t feel wrong or undeserved. Whatever you meant by your invitation here, he can feel that you meant it. He can’t think of what he did to deserve to be chosen out of all the coworkers you two are close to. In all fairness this is so unusual because he is sure that he did not do anything. He didn’t have to dress up nicely, speak differently, act more “civilised” (we… won’t unpack that here hhh). No amount of favours and flowers caused you to trust him enough to bare yourself like that. Somehow, you just did on your own accord. Undressing takes him a second, all those notions racing in his head, having a hard time getting through over his much more thirsty thoughts as he is battling a hard time of his own. The mere fact that his is not sporting a full on erection is more of a miracle than whatever Dante does to bring him back from the dead after battles. Finally you two are naked and if he wasn’t as worked up over you, he’d get an ego boost from the way you looked at him as well. As strong as his self restraint is, even the cold water can’t keep his member flaccid once you two get into the water and he looks at the way droplets explore your body, dripping down each time you emerge from under the surface. They shine and shimmer on your soft skin before falling down and it’s safe to say he’s getting more worked up with each second. It’s even more evident when you try to hold a conversation. Although you will have to deal with his frustrated demeanour and lack of focus, he still makes it worth a while and there’s nothing to regret once your little adventure comes to an end 2/2

As soon as the question exits your mouth, Ishmael cocks her head at you. It that really what you want to do? She also asks you ‘what for?’ Though she’s certainly not as worked up about it as Heathcliff was. There’s no doubt that she has experience with bodies of water and she is the first person to inform you that bathing without any clothes is about the least practical thing you can do. Of course, jumping in with your full attire on wouldn’t work well either, but a minimal amount of clothing is actually very beneficial. She’s not judging you, but don’t expect her not to question what kind of ‘fun’ there is in skinny dipping. So it’s a whole thing and people like to partake in it? Doesn’t make much sense from a practical standpoint, but as you explain to her why it’s actually the whole point to take your clothes off when you two do it, a little smile tugs on her lips. Perhaps she does find your methods of seeking alone time… unique, but she’s not oblivious to the fact that this is you initiating an intimate moment with her. The length to which you’re going to convince her of the vital part of being naked during skinny dipping makes it hard for her not to point it out. She asks you one or two final questions that are solely spoken to fluster you a bit, but ultimately she’s open to try this out. It’s Ish that insists on setting the time and follows through to a minute, waiting to be lead by you towards your set destination. As you undress, she checks out the body of water, humming to herself and giving you updates on her finds. When she’s satisfied that no harm could be caused by your little activity, she turns to face you. Though she acts very casual, her cheeks and ears come close to matching her hair as she eyes you up and down. After a brief pause she begins to take her own clothes off. The sudden change of temperatures leaves you shivering as you two go deeper in, but Ishmael acts unphased. She notes that she did warn you that your fun adventure could turn unpleasant and lead to you catching a cold. With a small sign, she swims closely to you. Body heat transfers underwater just as easily as it does on the surface. Thus, she proposes that you two entangle your bodies closely to keep you from suffering the cruel coolness of the liquid you were so eager to submerge yourself into. Her strong arms wrap themselves around your frame and your chests press together. Though decently athletic, she’s soft and definitely warm. She holds you until it’s time to get out, making sure you don’t freeze. At least that’s the reason she gives you ;3

Right from the start, though calm and unassuming in his demeanour, Yi Sang would be pretty receptive to your idea. All nervousness you might have felt disappear as soon as he responds to your question. He might be a little quiet but it doesn’t mean he’s prudish or judgy, quite the opposite actually. So all he does is nod in agreement and ask what would be the most convenient time for you two to depart. After that, if you are vigilant enough, you might feel his eyes on you a decent amount of times. At one point you can even hear Rodya question why he’s ’smiling to himself like that’ though his answer it too quiet to decipher (and probably a bit too ambiguous to get a proper read on him). In the end he approaches you as your working hours come to an end, asking you if you’re ready to go. He’s so casual about it that it’s hard not to feel at ease, even though his veiled eagerness is definitely a bit flustering. On the way there he engages in pleasant musings with you, listening to your thoughts about the latest happenings or life in general and gladly sharing his own. He’s a bit more relaxed now, whether it’s because he’s off the clock and away from the crowded bus or because he’s speaking with you. He grows a bit more flustered when he sees you take your clothes off and avoids eye contact more than usual when he sees you looking at his naked form, but still manages not to make things too awkward. All in all it’s not a bad time and despite being somewhat a distant person, he is definitely staying pretty close to you physically, sneaking glances each time you gaze at the water you two are submerged in

With Meursault I can’t imagine a scenario that wouldn’t be a bit silly and surreal because that man really just considers private affections and urges to be not a part of his work contract and thus fails to see the purpose in carrying them out. I firmy believe even getting morning wood is a conscious choice to him. It’s not in his contract, thus he refuses to succumb to it. However, he does value your input. Whether it’s affection or ‘simple appreciation for your efficiency in the workplace’ he is willing to hear you out. It doesn’t mean you won’t have to explain and validate skinny dipping as a pastime, both in excruciating length and detail. You might have to get Dante involved, asking them to please issue an official statement allowing you to depart in purpose of decreasing stress and thus increasing productivity. Yes, it has to be phrased like that. If you get your dear (and confused) manager to comply, Meursault won’t argue. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go. But his wants are not relevant. He is an employee first, after all. It shows in the way he completely disregards any of his personal feelings on the matter. Just hums quietly and agrees. If he is flustered or nervous, it doesn’t show. The best sign you will get from him is that he seems pretty receptive, all factors considered. Another sign that he might be a bit more interested than he is lettting on is that, after your work hours end, he heads towards you with such purpose that one could assume that Vergilius himself had ordered him to. With little to no shame he says ‘the work day ended. We can go through with your plan to go skinny dipping now’. It’s said in front of everyone and you can be sure that at least a few of your fellow coworkers will have a blast bringing it up and teasing you for the next week or two. But it is a worry you will have to mull over later as, just like Meursault said, it is time for you two to leave and head towards your destination. As you lead him towards the water he stays silent and promptly begins taking his clothes off when you two stop. Even in such an intimate action he is very stoic and graceful, leaving his uniform folded by the shore and offering to fold yours as well. Without any shame in his naked, exposed self, he submerges himself. If he is cold, there’s no indication of that. It is after hours though and if you are attentive enough you will see his eyes trailing across your figure. He is yet another sinner that, if you find yourself shivering, will offer to transfer some of his warmth by standing and holding you closely. The action seems almost formal, but it’s doubtful he would propose such thing if it wasn’t you. Silence with him is comfortable. In case you initiate a conversation though, he will respond, carrying the talk effortlessly and casually. Or well, as much as his usual uptight demeanour allowed him to

There is no other way to describe the state you put Dante in other than ‘sheer panic’. For a split second they even start to wonder if they should be getting into the water at all, given their mechanical head. Only to realise that this is no different than the showers they take and will not jeopardise their life or ability to bring sinners back. If it was physically possible, you would definitely see more than one droplet of sweat rolling down their face as they look around and fiddle with their fingers. Suddenly it feels like their limbs had grown too long and their body is all wrong. They shift under your gaze, making a few surprised sounds. If you were hoping to make your poor manager a flustered mess, you sure got it. Finally they ask <is that even allowed?>. And I mean. They are the manager, so it’s not like you’re the one to tell them. They get flustered at that realisation even more. Muttering something that almost could be considered a coherent confirmation they look mortified with their own decision making skills. I mean. They are used to being mocked and used by the sinners, disregarded as a weakling by most (and that doesn’t even cover the way they get treated by those who can’t hear their speech). So it’s surprising that out of everyone you could invite, you felt the most comfortable undressing in front of them. Sure, you make a point to treat them well on the daily, but they always assumed you didn’t think very highly of them, that it was pure courtesy. The more they think about your proposition, the more anxious they get. They like you. A lot. But your question could mean that you are more fond of them than they initially assumed. And they like you so so much. Oftentimes your interactions make their day, making them feel better even after the worst of days. But they always thought it was one sided (why wouldn’t it be? You’re so lovely and they are, as of now, not even the bare minimum. Just some incompetent ‘resurrection machine’ with no memories of the past and ‘questionable humanity’). If this is some sign that you’re sending, if you really like them, they would feel bad for giving into their selfish urges. You deserve someone stronger. Someone more capable. They get so worked up over that, that when you two finally get to it and it’s time to undress they are hit with a new wave of anxiety. Once again their whole body feels so inadequate and out of place. As you stand there naked they can’t help but shrink into themselves the more your beauty hits them. They don’t even remember what is considered attractive. They know their head is definitely a turn off but as they stand with their arms folded tightly like a shield, they start to wonder if any part of them is even remotely appealing by common beauty standards. You have to snap them out of their half horny-half self deprecating gaze and lead them towards the water by their hand, making their stomach fill with butterflies. It certainly takes a while for them to relax, though they do their best to respond every time you say something. All whilst desperately reminding themselves that you aren’t able to see where their eyes are looking 0///0

Gregor is no less caught by surprise and the half grumble-half squeak he makes is definite proof. Your surprising question is definitely at least a bit dreadful. Unlike in the the scenario above, Greg is more so concerned with the physical aspect of things. He treads carefully, trying to gage if you’re not making fun of him, mocking his appearance like so many have done before. Of course, up to this point you were nothing but kind, but after being let down and made to feel lesser by everyone, there is a (rather large) part of him that wonders if you’re not about to join the rest in reminding him just how much of a lowly gross looking pest he is. His suspicion is not very subtle, so you would easily catch on. I mean, after having witnessed so many times just how awfully people spoke to him/about him, you wouldn’t struggle to, at least partially, understand the source of his approach. All you can do is be kind and hope he can read your true intent (since he won’t verbalise his exact fear, he doesn’t like to bring up his modifications if he doesn’t have to). Surprisingly, it somewhat works because he reluctantly agrees to at least try. If he changes his mind, he can just stay on the shore. That kind of setup does make things a bit better for him. If push comes to shove he figures he can just opt out, you’re not putting much pressure on him. Still, he sighs deeply and sighs, muttering something about how he ‘should be smarter at his age’. Please, that man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed whilst being 35, someone talk some sense into him…. Well, either way he follows through in his promise and goes with you at your agreed time. When someone comments on you two ‘sneaking off’ it does nothing to make the situation any more loaded. The closer you two get to the body of water, the more visibly stressed he is. Instead of engaging in his usual small talk, he stays silent as he often does when he gets reminded of his painful past. If the walk was any longer you could safely assume that he would go through his whole pack of cigarettes, if not two. He sort of catches himself spacing out by the end and tries to act like everything’s fine (I mean, in the improbable - in his eyes - scenario that you just genuinely like him, it is a pretty bad look for him to be so silent and gloomy), but there is something heavy in the air. As you reach the shore, he stands to the side. Piece by piece your uniform uncovers your naked body. Only when you’re fully undressed does he start to contemplate yet another issue that could put him in a horrific predicament. While a decent chunk of other sinners, in they were in his place, would be most worried about getting a very obvious boner, he is too preoccupied with just now beginning to stress over the sudden upsurge of strong emotion making his body transform or act on its own. And there is a definite upsurge of emotions when he lets his gaze settle on your figure. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask if he wants to join you. He’s somewhere between flustered and worried, looking anywhere but at you whilst telling you all the ways this could go bad. Hurting you. Scaring you. Making you repulsed. That last one he doesn’t say out loud but it weights on him nonetheless. Eventually you could maybe convince him. Pressure doesn’t work but letting him know that he has a choice and you are simply glad he accompanied you is going to go a long way. Something something being denied autonomy his whole life. Or something. Aaanyways. That might just get him to join you in the water, after having taken off his clothes as well. He… doesn’t like his looks in general. As a friend of mine put it - he figures the arm at least takes the attention away from everything else. Ouch. But undressing in front of you is a huge step! Kind of has a what are we????? Ringing in his head and making his face red but he won’t say that hhhh. Only when you two go in deeper (he’s very actively trying to submerge himself in the water, though he wishes he was a bit more secure if only to have you above the surface) does he chuckle nervously

2/2 and informs you that he cannot swim. At all. You're happy to learn more about him as always but also that kind of information would be handy to know beforehand. He still doesn't trust his modifications not to act up if your naked body were to get any closer to him, so you two stay a reasonable distance away but refrain from getting ant deeper. As he relaxes a tiny bit, you get to experience his uninterrupted yapping and forget about the earlier worries for a bit. His subtle cynicism shines through his goodnatured jokes and comments and for the first tine in a while he gets to relax a bit. It might take him long to let his guard down fully but it's hard not to smile seeing him at least a bit less beaten down. All i can guarantee is that he will absolutely go over this adventure again and again in his head and for days to come will get flustered in the most random moments. But out of all the outcomes, it's not so bad to have that effect on him, is it? ;3

[stylesluxx]

goodnight – a.hotchner

[warnings: none. i think pretty wholesome. oh jack and a new baby are included]

summary: in which y/n leaves hotch voicemails while he’s away

word count: 471

main masterlist

Night One

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope everything’s going okay and that you’re staying safe. Jack missed you a lot today—he spent half the evening drawing you a picture of our family for when you get home. He’s determined to surprise you with it. And our little one was asking for you at bedtime. They were reaching for your side of the bed like they know it’s missing something without you. I think they’re starting to understand when you’re away, which is sweet but a little heartbreaking too. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that we love you, and we can’t wait to have you back home. Sleep well if you get a chance, okay? And call us if you can. Goodnight, Aaron.”

Night Two

“Hi, love. I don’t want to bother you if you’re resting, but I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a long day here, but Jack was such a trooper—he had his first soccer game, and he scored a goal! He kept saying, ‘Dad would have cheered the loudest,’ and you know what? He’s probably right. You’re on his mind a lot, even though he’s trying to be brave. And our little one fell asleep holding onto one of your old shirts. They wouldn’t let go, like they can feel you in it. It makes me feel close to you too, somehow. I hope you’re holding up, my love. I miss you so much. We’ll be here, waiting. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Night Three

“Hey, baby. Just wanted to say goodnight. Jack’s out cold after an evening of running around like a maniac—he wanted to show our little one how to play hide and seek. They kept calling your name like they thought you’d pop up in the next hiding spot. They both miss you so much, but I think it’s safe to say I might miss you even more tonight. I’m keeping the bed warm, and your pillow’s already waiting for you. Sleep tight if you can, and remember we’re all sending you so much love. Goodnight, Aaron. Dream of coming home to us soon.”

Night Four

“Hi, honey. It’s me again. I know it’s silly, but I can’t help leaving these voicemails. It makes me feel like I’m tucking you in from afar. Jack fell asleep with a book he swears he’s saving to read with you. And the little one was asking for ‘Da-da’ all night, every time they woke up. We’re all counting down the days, my love. This house feels a little emptier without you, but we’ll fill it up with love until you’re back. Goodnight, my heart. Be safe, and know we’re waiting right here, just as you left us. All my love.”

[AN: had this idea while on my road trip. hope you guys enjoy. and of course, the link to my taglist]

[discotitsposts]

strawberry lipgloss part two- the date 🍓

sorry this took so long! since my birthday is soon, i’ll prob post this on my birthday, this is reader going on a date with spencer but he doesn’t know it’s her birthday because she didn’t tell him.

read part one here!

update posting this on my birthday whoo!!!

🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓

Spencer waits nervously at the restaurant for you, he’d chosen your favorite Italian place, it was close to your apartment and was familiar to you.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a restaurant you’d never been to and where you wouldn’t know the menu.

He checks his watch again, you’re not late yet, but time was cutting close and he’s starting to get worried.

Spencer’s mind races with maybes.

Maybe she didn’t actually want to and is going to cancel last minute. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she-

He looks up and sees you speaking with the hostess, she leads you to the table and Spencer stands up in awe of the way you’ve dressed.

A beautiful purple dress with strawberries on it, the strawberry scent just as strong, your hair done beautifully and you’re even wearing a small tiara in your hair.

Your lips, Spencer notices, are slick with lipgloss, strawberry lipgloss.

“You look absolutely radiant.” Spencer manages to say finally after staring for a while. You lean in and hug him tight.

“I’m so glad to be here with you Spencer.” You say sweetly, and smile. Your smile. You smiled at him like no one else mattered in the world except you and him.

“I’m glad too.” He says without really thinking. You had that effect on him.

“I love the tiara.” He smiles at the sparkly object in your beautiful hair.

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift for myself.”

Spencer freezes. Birthday? How could he have forgotten? Spencer never forgot anything. Then he realized. You’d never told anyone on the team your birthday.

“I..uh I didn’t know you had a birthday coming up.” He says nervously.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t feel like doing much. It’s actually today.”

Spencer’s eyes widen. Today? Your birthday is today?!

“Oh I’m so sorry I..Happy Birthday! I just so happened to get you a present without knowing.” He smiles and reaches for the gift he’d gotten you.

“Oh Spencer that’s so sweet you didn’t have to get me anything, except, I kind of got you something too.” You laugh and reach for a box too.

“You got me something?” Spencer laughs in disbelief.

You exchange the gifts and you open yours. Spencer had gotten you a perfume. Not just any perfume, a perfume in a strawberry shaped bottle. You gasp at how adorable it is.

“It’s strawberry scented too.” Spencer adds blushing as red as the strawberry shaped bottle.

You sniff the perfume sample included with the box.

“Oh Spencer I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you!” You beam at him and gesture him to open his gift.

He carefully unravels the ribbon, in the small box is a bookmark, with a quote by Nikola Tesla.

It reads: ‘The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.’

Spencer laughs heartily. The quote was deeply relatable and one of his favorites. Then he notices, there is a strawberry charm, an amethyst crystal charm, a book charm, and a microscope charm on the tassel of the bookmark.

“This is amazing. I love it. Where did you get such a gem?” Spencer smiles.

“I know you probably don’t need bookmarks because you probably just remember the page number but bookmarks are so cute and fun I had to. Also I didn’t buy it, I made it.” You blush a little. Proud he’d liked the gift you’d spent so much time on.

You both set your gifts down and stare at each other.

“You made this?” Spencer asks, clearly impressed. You nod and he stands up and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your ear.

“Thank you.” You whisper back. “I really love it, i’ve never owned strawberry perfume before.”

“Happy Birthday.” He says softly and then kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you!”

A waiter comes over and takes your orders. You order a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to share.

“The portions are huge! It’s a big plate of spaghetti and they add this sauce that is absolutely divine and the meatballs are perfect.” You gush over the spaghetti this restaurant serves while Spencer smiles in adoration.

He decides to be bold and reaches across the table nervously and takes your hand in his. You smile at the gesture and your plate comes out.

Spencer’s eyes go wide at the amount of spaghetti. You give him a look that says ‘I told you so’ and a smirk.

You guys eat and talk and laugh for the longest time. Spencer found you so easy to talk to and didn’t feel annoying for rambling in the slightest. When he rambled, you sat there and listened intently.

When you get to the end of the spaghetti you realize this is just like ‘Lady and the Tramp’ because Spencer rolls the last meatball onto your side of the plate for you to have.

You eat it and move to some of the last of the spaghetti and then you both realize the last of the spaghetti is just one long strand and your lips move closer and closer.

Both your lips meet in the middle of the noodle and you kiss. Spencer’s eyes widen and he bites the noodle so you can eat the last of it.

You laugh at the silly moment and Spencer chuckles.

“Tastes like strawberries.” Spencer comments making you laugh again. He loves making you laugh.

You hold up the strawberry lipgloss from before and are about to reapply when Spencer clears his throat.

“Let me, please?” He asks and you smile and nod to give the okay.

Spencer squeezes the tube until enough product comes up and yet again rubs it on your lips until they’re shiny and covered in the sweet scent. He twists the cap back on and hands it back to you.

“Luscious, aren’t they?” You ask pouting your lips and posing. Spencer nods in awe of the beauty glowing from within you.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” You tell him.

“Me too. Usually they’ve ran out the door by now.” Spencer jokes, something he found easy with you.

You laugh, “Who would ever run from you Spencer? You’re amazing.”

Spencer blushes and holds your hand and you leave the restaurant together and you squeeze his hand lovingly.

When he walks you to your apartment and reaches the door he waits for you to unlock it.

You two stand in the doorway and Spencer gets close to you and whispers, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

You nod in agreeance and lean in closer until your lips meet again. When you finally pull away you decide to make a joke.

“That was better without a spaghetti noodle in between us.”

Spencer cracks up, “Hey don’t knock the spaghetti kiss, it was romantic, and at least we got to eat it. Hey,” He stares at your lips. “I think you need more lipgloss now.”

“What’s the point? It’s gonna get messed up again anyway.” You smirk and lead him to the couch. Spencer smiles.

Nothing could ever top the way you make him feel. Loved.

the end 💘

tags- 🍓

if you’d like to be tagged in all future works you can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence @starshinegarcia @fictionalobssed @exoticisles @in-another-april @gallifreyan-idiocracy

people who wanted to be tagged in part two 🍓

@exhaleli @moonysreid @reidsatellite @fandoms-allovertheplace @kissesforspence @shibugs @khxna

idk why it wouldn’t tag some people. but thank you to anyone who liked part one enough to ask for part two i appreciate it sm😭💘

we are all strawberries.

watching ldsk in season one right now lmao

also face reveal this is me:

[valentine-cafe]

May I have a mango pudding, a strawberry shortcake and a tiramisu please?!?

[Afab gn reader]

May I request how they would act with their pregnant lover reader please?!?:D

-🍄

˖⁺. “ bundle of joy ” : 

﹙ hero duo x gn afab reader x antihero bf ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 alessio, rishen & talisen x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙  rishen: hero ˖ moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ˖ talisen: poet ˖ grim reaper ˖ naga character ˖ alessio: punkgoth ˖ mercenary ˖ immortal ˖ antihero character ﹚

headcanons of when you fall pregnant with the 781 trio <3

﹙ cws ﹚: none ! | wc : 0.7k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: the trio being domestic like this is sooooo

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

their first reaction would be absolute shock. pure shock

at the sudden news, talisen’s teacup fell to the floor. shattering in millions of pieces, while rishen’s eyes widened, and she was quick to sit down. hand on her chest, while taking in deep, deep breaths. confusion unmatched of that alessio was currently going through. his brain not following his processing.

after their moment of surprise, and you calling for them a few times, looking around with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. was that not okay? had you said it wrong?

“who��s is it? whi- well— no, you probably wouldn’t know.” alessio would mutter to himself, while talisen waved his hands at you reassuringly.

”baobei please do not worry, we are not mad. we never would be.” the overwhelm was still prominent in you. fortunately though, his words eased you just a bit. your arms slumping in his hands, as he gently wraps around them to pull you in for a hug.

rishen would sit and ponder still, though. which of them had made you pregnant? was it them? talisen was included from the mix completely. his reaper genes are incompatible with that of a human’s. it would either be her or alessio. he could run a test, perhaps?

they would be so happy though. over the moon and sun infact! oh, alessio, who had always wanted to have a family of his own. though being a nervous wreck about it too, would go and buy baby clothes, pacifiers and lots and lots of diapers, so that they were ready for when the baby arrived!

“i bought small picture and memory books too— so when the baby—”

talisen would start counting down the days for the birth. while he always wondered what he would be like as a father. he was still mildly intimidated by the thought in all honesty, it took reassurance from you in great amounts to make him believe he would be an amazing father. in all sorts of aspects. he could teach the bebé so much!

“i can not wait to read bedtime stories for the baby. such a simple thing, but truly, i really can not wait.”

rishen would be running the ultrasounds and checkups on you, he did not want anyone else checking on you. that was in his field and she knew what she was doing! everytime she saw the baby’s little shifts and feetsies kicking around during the scans, they couldn’t help but laugh out loud. smiling brightly at the image. he loves to feel for the baby, listen for hiccups too!

“oop— another hiccup! got too much food in there? hehe”

they will all treat you as they always has: like royalty. spoilt and made sure you feel good.

however, they are all very aware of pregnancy hormones, and are also careful around you. making sure that you are not overwhelmed, overstimulated or that you feel bad or discomforted in any way or form!

they bring you the food you like, nevermind the odd combinations it may be. and sit and eat with you as much as they can even if they’re busy.

all of them love to sit down on their knees and murmur or coo at your tummy for the baby to hear them. get accostumed to their voice.

and another thing they adore is watching you talk to the baby too, when you think you’re alone. happily mumbling to it, assuring it that it will grow up to be a kind and amazing individual. and do good in this world, they will grow up with loving parents.

alessio always comes around to help lift up your tummy to give your spine and back a break once the baby begins growing bigger. supporting it gently while you walk around as well.

rishen is the one who ushers you to the couch or bed to make you rest, telling you to lay back on chores and everything else. they all have that covered!! just eat and rest! don’t stress yourself or the baby!

talisen is the one who always makes sure that you are doing okay mentally as well, asking you how you feel about the baby, how you feel about everything. if there’s stuff you need to talk about. he wants to make sure you are in a good mindset during the entire pregnancy. if anyone hurts your feelings or wears you down, they’re gonna have to deal with him!

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