#or if a skin artist sees this and wants to give it a go you have my full permission :D

[ghouljams]

Aphrodite!reader bringing Hephaestus!Nikto little scraps of metal or full on weapons/armor pieces she liked the metal that it used or thought he would find interesting to forge with.

Aphrodite!Reader asking Nikto if he would ever tell her what he was doing with specific steps in his forging because she just wants to hear his voice

Nikto building a different seat for reader to rest in but still having her little stool available for when she wants to come closer. Not that he understands why.

Reader bringing a drink or pitcher of some cold beverage for Nikto and him also being confused again as to why she’s doing these things. Obviously she’s sharing because she would feel bad if she didn’t and not because she knows that said beverage is his favorite or one that he enjoys.

you’ve definitely won me over (expected) (once again) (as usual) with this au. i am appreciative.

Someone on one of my posts about them mentioned it was fitting for the "god of passion to marry the god of invention." And it made me remember that quote that's like "I loved her to the point of invention" and yeah, good stuff.

It's not like you don't have things to do. You are a god, after all, you have duties to attend to, people to bless and all that. You have battlefields to walk through, soldiers that swear on their love's life, that beg to see them one more time, that take the rage of loss and channel it into power. You have weddings and births, deaths and funerals, first steps, reunions, first and last loves to look over. You have artists to watch, to stare entranced as they paint their muse, their passion seeping into every brushstroke, every strike of their hammed.

You pluck iron shavings off the floor and hum to yourself as you go. You pull arrowheads from broken ribcages. First teeth fall into your hands. Hair from a pet gone too soon. Lace from a wedding dress, notes off pages of music, stone chunks, paint chips, love letters half finished. You collect it all and shuffle through it as you sit outside your husband's forge. You don't have your stool out here, so you content yourself with standing. You shift your weight onto your other foot when one starts to ache.

You think he would like the nails, the arrowhead, the iron shavings, things he can melt down. He has better metal you're sure, but you don't know what to give your husband when you hardly know him. Does he even like his work? Is the forge something he's relegated to and not something he's passionate about. You love Love, you're the god of it, you find passion exhilarating, inspiring, transmogrifying. Nikto must feel the same about his work.

It's well into the night by the time the forge door swings open, your husband running a scarred hand through matted hair, tugging his mask off to reveal a crisp line of soot across his nose and cheeks. The black mark is matched only by the cacophony of white lines that strike like lightning over his skin, pulling his lips into a snarl and puckering his cheek. He freezes when he sees you. His eye twitches.

There's a large part of you that feels silly offering up your treasures. There's a small part of you that stares wide eyed at your husband, at the spectacular carnage that cuts his handsome features, and wishes he didn't slip his mask back on. So you offer him your metals, your scraps of love with nowhere to go.

"This is trash," He tells you, his voice muffled and distorted by the cylinders on either side of his mask, as he hands you a jewel, "we don't want it."

He turns, with your offering, and shuts the door to the forge behind him again. You can hear the heavy *thunk* of the lock sliding back into place.

Your bed is cold.

[springgirlshowers]

Inked Doodles

Summary: Joost loves to draw on you, you love to surprise him.

WC: 1210

A/N: this was caused by this video lmao

Joost loved drawing, it became one of his favorite hobbies. It helped him calm down and relax whenever he was stressed.

He also had a tendency to use you as his canvas. Picking up a small habit of leaving little doodles on your skin.

If you were next to him and he had a pen or marker in his hand, you were at risk of a small doodle being left on your arm, hand, or even your legs sometimes.

The marks ranged from stars and smiley faces to full drawings. Dogs, cats, flowers music notes, a little figure of you or him. Anything he was thinking of at the moment.

It was cuter when he’d leave a small J right under the doodle, watermarking it as his.

Sitting on the couch, body opposite from his with your legs draped over his lap as you read a book. Joost pulled a sharpie out of thin air, you had no idea where he got it from.

You felt the cool drag of the marker along your lower leg. You peeked up from behind your book, seeing him focused as he drew a new figure, the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.

“Joost, you’re gonna give me ink poisoning.” You joked, moving away your leg, accidentally having him draw a line on your leg.

“Aw man now it’s messed up.” He groaned, dramatically pouting.

“It’s fine I can just wash it off later.”

“I wish you wouldn’t wash them off.” He leaned his head back on the couch.

“You know I don’t usually, I love your doodles, but I don’t want a random stripe of sharpie left on my leg.” You giggled, then going back to your book.

Soon however, Joosts last thing he said rung in your mind.

I wish you wouldn’t wash them off.

So what if you didn’t? What if you couldn’t wash one off?

That’s when you began your plan, the next appropriate spot on your arm or leg Joost would draw on, whatever he doodled. You’d go to the tattoo parlor as soon as possible, not telling him about it.

The next time he drew on you was when he was writing down song lyrics for a song he hadn’t named yet, he had to go over to the studio in a few hours.

You laid against him your arms wrapped around his torso while he had one wrapped around your shoulder and the other wrote down lyrics in a spiral notebook.

Soon you watched him stop, removing the marker from the paper and moving it to your arm. Drawing a cartoonish but cute looking dog head with its tongue sticking out on your upper arm. Thankfully not in an awkward spot. The placement was perfect.

“Schweinhund.” You smiled and mumbled when you saw the doodle. He looked at you and you saw how his eyes lit up and the gears start turning in his head.

He crossed a line through the question marks he put as the title above the lyrics, writing schweinhund right next to it.

“There we go, that will be the song title! Thanks liefje.” He pressed a grateful kiss to the top of your head.

You were excited to see how amazed he would get at the sight of the dog being tattooed onto you. You knew he wouldn’t be opposed to it. He loves dogs and tattoos, his arms being littered with silly patchwork tattoos.

Once he left for the studio, you made sure he was nowhere near your shared apartment before you left to go to a local trusted tattoo parlor.

You explained your idea and plan to the tattoo artist and they thought it was adorable. They cleaned up and made the line work a bit more neater on the drawing. You kept the tattoo uncolored, just keeping the simple outline on your skin.

The process didn’t take long and once you saw the finished product in the mirror, you were grinning ear to ear. It looked perfect, just like how Joost drew it, just the way you wanted it to.

Nearly skipping down the street in eagerness as you went back to your apartment, hoping Joost would be home soon.

You were a bundle of nervous yet excited nerves as you waited for Joost to come back. You tried to occupy yourself and your mind.

You watched TV, scrolled on your phone, even washed some of the dishes, doing anything to pass the time.

It was 7PM and you were scrolling through instagram on the couch by the time Joost got home, immediately you sat up once you heard the lock on the door click.

The anticipation began again even though you were seconds away from seeing him.

He opened and walked through the door, eyes looking a bit tired and giving you a lazy smile once he saw you.

You waited anxiously on the couch for him to kick off his shoes and walk over.

Soon as he sunk down into the spot next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head on your shoulder.

“Mmm, studio was so tiring today.” He mumbled tiredly. Placing his chin on your shoulder to look at your face, a confused small smile took over his face at your expression.

“What’s got you so excited looking?” He sat up, arms still around you.

“I got a tattoo.” You smiled and bit down on your bottom lip.

“Really? You never told me you were planning to get one in the past, let me see!” He said happily, straightening up.

You turned a bit, revealing the doodle he made that was now inked permanently into your skin and covered by clingwrap.

His jaw dropped slightly, your expression faltered and you became worried.

Oh no, he doesn’t like it?

He brought a hand up to hold your arm, careful to not apply to much pressure.

“You got my drawing from this morning tattooed?” He looked at you with starry eyes, you nodded.

“You actually got my silly doodle tattooed?” He asked again after darting his eyes between your face and the tattoo. You nodded at his question once again, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, you said you wished I would never wash off your doodles.” You laughed nervously, “So, do you like it?” You spoke softly, extremely nervous.

He quickly cupped his hands over the sides of your head, pulling you in to peck kisses all over your face. You scrunched your eyes shut as you giggled.

You had your answer now.

He stopped after placing one sweet passionate one on your lips. He moved his hands from the sides of your head to your cheeks.

“I love it! How could I not? Why didn’t you tell me about it?” He let out a breathy laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you.” You shrugged and looked away.

“Of course.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re unpredictable.” He chuckled and shook his head as he looked at your arm again.

“Thank you, liefje. You’re amazing.” He whispered before bringing you in for another sweet kiss, then pulling away to speak again.

“I think it’s time for me to get one for you now.”

[dystopianmoon]

LDS ML SONG ANALYSIS | IN DEPTH MINI PLAYLIST

I’ll be frank that I haven’t quite yet played LDS. However my friend is absolutely in love with the game. Curiously I invested in learning what’s so enthralling about it. And I can admit I get the appeal now. If there’s one thing I love more than character design and story depth it’s music. After a month of investigating I compiled some really interesting songs from my personal collection I feel suit the male leads. I analyzed all of their lore, the important details, interactions with MC, and yes even the spicy cards to determine which songs lyrically and spiritually worked! Please enjoy if you will. It’ll be lengthy.

Note; I listen to a lot of indie, shoegaze, alt indie, and post punk. this is based on my own taste!

.·:*¨༺ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎 ༻¨*:·.

➺ RAFAYEL

• Oceans ꨄ︎ Seafret

A deep song about distance between two lovers. I felt this ties into the part of them being separated through MC being human and him Lemurian. Bonded for their lives though so different, and even trying to get a magic potion in one life to be with her as a human himself. Very romantic honestly. I love his devotion to be beside her no matter the risk. The line “you know I’d rather drown than to go on without you” is so heavy. this song conveys having to hide their emotions, being separated, and that overwhelming feeling of wanting. Because being apart is so painful.

• Bathed In Grey ꨄ︎ Them & I

This song leaves a pulsing feeling within of appreciation and praises of the women’s existence in his life. I love the specific line “and her beacon, cements my place” considering he teaches her how to use a Lemurian Beacon. and then the lines “you taught me how to wade, this monochrome sea, that swallows me” I think it really gives you a vision of him alone without her in his space yet thankful of her existence in his life. I think MC really balances Rafayel and his vengeance against humans (obviously for destroying his people) later on in their connection.

• Words ꨄ︎ Gregory Alan Isakov

A very slow and steady song. It evokes a sort of jealousy within me of how in love he is with his partner. Writing her a lovely letter and asking her “did you ever notice the way light means more than it ever did all day long?” it’s just such a beautifully simple question really. Something I could see him asking. Another line I personally favor is “and I wish I could leave my bones and skin, and float over the tired tired sea so that I could see you again”

• Need It ꨄ︎ Half Moon Run

!! With Raf I imagine he’s a very intimate partner but still so artistic. I can’t imagine him having some exotic and nasty playlist, but something quite slow. He would dance with his partner humming against their forehead. Kissing them tenderly while drawing invisible sigils of his affections over every inch of skin. Whispering like a poet how grateful he is to be beside you, to be one with you. Even in your intimate endeavors he would cradle you gently but with obvious haste in his actions. I think his eyes would be most intense in these times. This song is simply so lovely down to the guitar and steady pacing of drums. The whole thing is quotable.

• Darkness ꨄ︎ Sweet Spine

So this song is more for the angst. I imagine a version of him where if he was suffering without MC and in a state of maybe anger, frustration, longing, and anxiety while painting he’d listen to this song. I love the lyrics “you tame the darkness, you beg the goddess” and “I can hardly breathe, I can hardly sleep without you, talking in my dreams” I think Rafayel would suffer so harshly. Every artist needs his muse, without it they become lost.

➺ XAVIER

• Moondust ꨄ︎ James Young

Where do I even start with this cause the lyrics just EMBODY this man. The lyrics “I’m building this house on the moon, like a lost astronaut, looking at you like a star, from the place the world forgot, and there’s nothing I can do” as an opener just tore me right open. Considering how he is the crowned prince of Philos, but it as a planet needing to sacrifice MC to keep it alive. Truly there is nothing he could do. Even though she reincarnates it’s just so sad. I love the recent reveal of him willing to sacrifice himself as well. A beautiful touch for his character.

• Monsoon ꨄ︎ Hippo Campus

This song is said by the writers to be about the death of a family member (for this instance it’s romantic), and the surprising lack of grief that was replaced by joy of the life that had been lived. Monsoons are seasonal change in the direction of the prevailing, or strongest, winds of a region. Monsoons can be of heavy rains too. Which I think is a lovely way of describing that “grief” I imagine Xavier definitely parted from MC with prevailing hope of reuniting again and knowing he would wait endlessly for her. The lyric “it should have been me” I interpret it also coming from his prospective of wanting to be the sacrifice instead.

• Yellow Love ꨄ︎ Citizen

This song is lovely down to every word. It conveys a powerful and passionate love, expressed through the symbolism of the color yellow. It explores themes of longing, transformative nature of love, and commitment. I love the lyric, “all I feel is celestial desire, a distant joy is dancing all around me” Xavier seems the type to heavily miss MC to his core, aching without her. Like a lost puppy he would wait for her return. That’s his partner through it all. Half of his whole.

• Too Good ꨄ︎ Troye Sivan

!! NASTY. FREAKY. SOUL SNATCHING. I am unfortunately unable to see this man as anything other than a straight up divine worshiper and freak for MC sexually. yeah…yeah I saw his cards. The way my jaw dropped from the audacity. This song needs no explanation it’s all in the lyrics. I mean if your skin wasn’t blazing alone from the song just pair it with his cards and you’ve got a levitating combination.

• Is It Really You ꨄ︎ Loathe

I can’t describe how much I just LOVE this song. When I heard it recently I thought this is perfect for him! For Xavier’s angst I imagine him laying somewhere in a field or rooftop allowing himself to drift. And as the song says, “let’s search the sky for a while, you and I, collide like two stars for a while” I think maybe he’d sing it with a bitterly sweet smile towards the sky imagining MC listening to him. maybe even when she’s near he’s humming it like a lullaby.

➺ SYLUS

• NFWMB ꨄ︎ Hozier

So given the lore of Sylus being a dragon being revealed I feel this song suited him so well. It opens with “when I first saw you the end was soon” to which I can recall the scene of them in his cave. Entangled together as she is tasked to end him but he questions her quite intimately I’d say with their proximity. Later on the two reunite as he is the leader of the N109 zone and her apart of the association. I like to imagine him saying the lines “give your heart and soul to charity (the association), cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey belongs to me” as well as “nothing fucks with my baby, nothing can get a look in on my baby” when her life is put into question. Though she could be a threat Sylus seems to allow her curiosity, protection, and connection. I find his subtle enthrallment of her adorable. live for him calling her SWEETIE right off the bat. Essentially MC really is his.

• Truly ꨄ︎ Cigarettes After Sex

This song is slowly paced though it has more promiscuous undertones I would reimagine it more so as Sylus reminding MC he is okay with anything with her, and not even afraid to go there. I see them with this untouchable bubble of possession, curiosity, desire, and attachment to each other. The chemistry always heavy and heart knocking. Something about their air truly is unmistakable and this song throws that out from the prospective of the male. I love the line “said you wear a new perfume for each city that you visit, so that you can remember how it felt to be there, and your lips are red and all the pictures that you send wearing white and black” it makes me think of when MC attends the gathering for the protocore business. How she was slightly nervous at first. But also how Sylus would likely pay attention to the little details. Like her lipstick that night or the outfit for the association (black and white) he’d see in her photos.

• The Yawning Grave ꨄ︎ Lord Huron

This is Sylus perfectly placed into a song. From his prospective he would be gloating himself up. The power from within but also around him. It perfectly describes how he would go about warning others that he is not to be trifled with. It’s truly worth every second. My favorite line being “Oh you fool there are rules, I am coming for you, you can run but you cannot escape, darkness brings evil things oh the reckoning begins, you will open the yawning grave” I see this as him warning if provoked he will bring them death without hesitation or remorse. No wonder they are so fearful of him!

• So Damn Into You ꨄ︎ Vlad Holiday

!! Oh my, another one! Listen I had the most fun with his spicy cards. I was frankly blushing and this song rushed to my head. “I was fading into dust, then you grabbed me with your madness, and you woke me up” likely taken in context of the past and present. For me I envision him sensual in all his ways even if not meaning it. However it’s never a bad thing to him when MC is nervous, blushing, and avoiding his eye contact. I think he’d find that intimidation so pleasing. Even better when she’s willing to challenge that energy without fever. I think Sylus would embody that very dominant and commanding lover, but never shy to worship her through every step. Coaxing MC into letting herself slip into him fully. The closing lines of, “it started with a bang, don’t know how you got me so messed up, but baby I won’t ever get enough, cause I’m so damn into you” would be something that really describe their dynamic.

• Entombed ꨄ︎ Deftones

So many angst songs could be used. However- this song is perfect start to finish. This song is quite literally about being undeniably BOUND to someone/something and in love. Several jumps in the lyrics embody their tale of being tied to one another. To start, “from the day you arrived, I’ve remained by your side, in chains” I’d say this is perfect of describing their encounter as a dragon when we circles her with his tail like a chain. And when she entered the N109 the first time how the Evol triggers to their wrists leaving her helplessly his. Next, “on the day you arrived, I became your device, to name and soothe” this id say sums up how MC can call upon him any time, literally hers whenever she is in need of him. But also naming him as the leader of the N109 was a major discovery for her. Lastly for the closing “from the day you arrived, I have stayed by your side, placed inside, safe and sound” I love the way Chino sings this with his chest. I imagine Sylus and his emotions for MC being heavy while watching over her endlessly for her safety and peace. Being apart from you would be a constant nagging reminder for him that he’s unable to itch without you there.

➺ ZAYNE

• Alone With Me ꨄ︎ Vance Joy

So obviously I read up on how these two had been childhood friends. As well as anecdote 2 Zayne who is different, dreaming of them. And I absolutely love the emotions Zayne has for MC, though he seems to hold himself reserved. I imagine he thinks endlessly on his praise for MC. Holding her so tenderly as the thing that pushes him, that he needs, that he can pour himself into. Specifically the lyrics “oh you’re the shape of my days, you’re my holy place, and I know everything’s good, everything’s just as it should be when you’re alone with me” when Zayne really speaks upon his feelings I feel like he’d be a bit shy even though assertive. However admitting to both himself and MC “here we are, I’m doing these things with you I never thought we’d do” and that’s just so beautiful to me.

• Snow ꨄ︎ Jome

I hold this song dear, and it just clicks for Zayne. this song really pulls at your strings as the male sings of his longing of what could have been if he had stayed in the same city. Wishing he never left her and imagining her goodbye. Admitting she has a piece of him and always sees her. I love the lyric “I didn’t mean to let you go, i still see you in the snow” obviously I noticed Zayne being called forseer and having that power regarding snow/ice. I’d like to think he would construct images of MC in his palm as he did for her with the snow seal! This song pictures that worry of separation between two lovers. It’s good.

• You & I ꨄ︎ Rhodes

This one is powerful and truthfully I cry to this one here and there. This song is about yearning for a past love. And like the other boys I feel like Zayne probably steps into this the heaviest. Consider the connection I read for them I truly felt my heart tug in sadness for them. This song is perfect, with the lines, “is it still you and I forever? Whether you like it or you don’t, sometimes we live alone, if we can find a little hope, we can make it on our own” and that just stabs you good in the feels. I’ll let you listen to the rest yourself.

• Paradise ꨄ︎ Henry Morris

!! I don’t have much I could say, but damn. Zayne is that perfect balance of patient yet so intense. Yes I would want a paradise with him. His spice cards leaves you craving more each time. That feeling of wanting to be pulled in became overwhelming: this song captures that. I love his gentle touches and praises of recognition. How he’s concerned if she’s slept, if she’s eaten, has she been hurt? The urgency always in his eyes and voice. It really makes your brain wonder. I love love the lyric, “help me cure your sickness,I’m the last one left if you need a witness, on your bedside stand, I’m a big commitment, are you sure you’re alright?” cause it makes me remind myself he’s a doctor and really can hold you down in the heat of it all and then be there till the end if you let him. Gently of course.

• Avalon ꨄ︎ Zeruel

So for Zayne it’s hard for me to place his angst. Cause I do see him as if he’d push through but in those moments of intensive disassociation maybe he’d let himself wonder to your memories. And replay it while questioning him and you. Could he change it all? Why did it have to be that way? Would you always be there? Sighing into his hands frustratedly. I think the lyrics, “is this love I don’t know, could you entrust me your soul, as we fight fire with sound I ask, could you stay for a while” perfect. His character is hard to decipher feelings wise and I assume he has that inner battle but in the end- he does love MC.

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ⋙

I actually might considering playing this game after discovering so much about them. Personally Rafayel and Zayne really got me hooked. I’m Sapphic so this discovery of interest was EXTREMELY eye opening to my flavor. Let me know who you personally enjoy in the game!

[grailknightmonty]

all the rest with you, next to you.

playing with light and color with cyberpunk bdubs based on some thoughts for his pixel pulse valley character

(rbs appreciated!)

[voidsaber]

#3 you can (not) redo

[pyrodolls]

superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader

✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader

✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)

part two here!

superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.

superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.

superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.

superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.

superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.

superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.

superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-

superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.

superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.

[arminsumi]

tattoartist!suguru losing nonchalance when reader flirts with him?

im down bad for him holy hell

Oh, he's falling to pieces, got it bad for the girl he just met 'n he's gonna make a drunk little bet — y'think he's crazy enough to get your name tattooed on him? Or crazy enough to ink his name into your skin?

ㅤ★ wc; ~3k

ㅤ★ note; continuation of tattoo artist Suguru Geto!

ㅤ★ an; aaa!! you got my brain whirring like a laptop... tysm and i hope this makes u blush and kick ur feet as much as i did while writing!! 🍰✨

ㅤ★ tagz; @ohimsummer 💗@fairiesthrum💗 @heartofjasmina 💗 @kwonan 💗 @ghost-buddies 💗 @madamecorbie 💗 @mima0127 💗 @moggleatlife 💗 @natasaa13 💗 @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell 💗 @wakashudou 💗 @khaothick 💗 @candy-s72 💗 @creamflix 💗 @starriesworlds

ㅤ★ warnings; sum alcohol/drunkenness

“So, was she joking, or am I your type?” Suguru asks, black eyes staring right into your soul.

“Mm, well…” you hum, giving his form a look-over – god, if only you could feel how hard his heart’s beating when you do this. “Maybe.” You reply teasingly.

“Aw, just ‘maybe’?” he groans, now leaning his hip against the edge of the display case that housed the studs and gauge earrings.

“Yeah, just ‘maybe’ – I’m teasing. No, she wasn’t joking; I’ve always had a thing for the black hair, black nails, bad boy look…”

“The ‘bad boy’ look…?” he questions, recalling what your friend had said earlier about bad boys being just your type.

“Yeah, the ‘bad boy’ look.” You giggle.

His heart beats even harder, muttering a naughty little “Well, lucky me.”

“Nah, not so fast – I’m a smart woman.” You warn.

“Oh, are you?” he clicks his tongue in defeat, “Damn, would you believe that my type is smart women? No, no I’m serious… I’ve got a thing for smart women.”

Your cheeks grow hot, the heat spreading to your ears.

“I can assure you that the ‘bad boy’ look is just an aesthetic; I’m really an artsy dork making a living off doodling on people’s bodies.” He shrugs.

“Hm… maybe, maybe not.”

You rub your lips together. He briefly licks his bottom lip. You look him up and down. He looks you up and down. Body language open and alive with attraction, the both of you stand in this air of electric tension that Shoko spies from the other end of the room.

She watches as the two of you giggle like little flirts, observing how totally absorbed the two of you are in each other’s company. When you catch her eye, Shoko gives you a wink and points at her wrist, mouthing “five more” – fair enough, the two of you have promised to get pizza.

Pizza first, boys later, right?

Five minutes more go by – adding to the total of four hours spent at the tattoo & piercing parlor. But despite her discomfort and need for a change of scenery, Shoko decides to linger around just a little longer so that the two of you can indulge in each other just a little more.

But now you're getting nervous – Suguru has you breathless, holding you in a battle of who can flirt harder? which you're starting to lose.

He's captivated by you. This 6’3, tattooed, goth-grunge, slightly dorky man chuckles and smiles like he hasn’t had this much fun talking flirting with someone in years.

It's going well, then your smile trips him up. I know, it’s always the smile, huh? If you see enough of it, you slip… and that’s exactly what's happened to Suguru. He quickly grows obsessed with the way your cheeks look when you smile – the image burns into his memory without him even realizing it in the moment.

No, in the moment he doesn't realize the magnitude of your effect on him. He's just thinking about himself, about you, about —

“I’ve gotta go,” you say goodbye finally, “I don’t want to keep my friend waiting. But you’ll probably see my face here again… she loves dragging me along for these kinds of things.”

He stutters, “Oh! Oh… yeah – yes. Of course. Looking forward to it… maybe next time, you’ll be the one getting ink in your skin.”

“Yeah right.” You smile.

It’s your French exit that makes his heart throb in need.

No, don’t leave yet… I like you – don’t you ever wonder how many acquaintances in your life have thought this when leaving your company? And you’ll never even know.

Oh, Suguru was thinking so hard about asking you to exchange numbers or to meet up for coffee, but he didn’t want to come off as too forward – no, no… he had to maintain his mysteriousness. Or at least, he had to cling to whatever was left of it after revealing his inner dorkiness to you.

*****

After you leave, he wanders in and out of his studio, has small interactions with his co-workers, and doodles ideas for tattoos down.

Throughout all of these things, your face is at the forefront of his mind. Your voice echoes in his head as he recalls every detail of the conversation you two shared. Then he starts smiling softly as he applauds himself for being so gutsily flirty with you… a stranger, just someone, who he probably won’t see again…

A girl with no name.

God, why was he so slow? He didn’t even ask for your name. Suguru groans.

Yes, he probably won’t see you again… not unless your friend brings you along for her next visit. How long does he have to wait? Weeks? Months? That’s insane.

Suguru stops doodling, stares at the scrap of paper, and then looks up at the wall displaying his works. He rubs his fingers back and forth across his mouth.

I gotta.

He looks over to his phone. He reaches for it, takes it into his veiny hand, unlocks it, and scrolls through his list of contacts.

And then he dials his client’s number. Shoko Ieri.

*****

Now, it’s been just under an hour since you and Shoko left the tattoo parlour. She’s complained three times about the pain because exactly three times she has leaned back on the seat – squishing the fresh ink wound against her chair. You just cruelly laugh at how her eyes twitch in pain and each time.

The two of you sit eating pizza.

“He liked you. Why don’t we go back and you ask him for his number?” she teases.

“No way… he’ll think I’m too forward.” You shake your head.

Then three minutes later, Shoko's phone goes off. She reaches into her backpack. She looks at the caller ID, then at you, then at the caller ID, then –

“… is that him?”

“It’s him.”

“What’s he calling for! Me?”

“Absolutely he’s calling for you – I can bet gold on that.”

It stops ringing. She tells you she’ll text him back but guess what? She doesn’t even need to, because he calls again.

“Relentless.” She giggles. “I’m answering.”

“Pretend I’m not here!”

She winks at you and answers, “Hey, Suguru, what’s up?”

The two of you lean in until the your foreheads press together – it’s still hard to make out every word.

“Yo.” You hear his smooth voice coming from the other side, “Sorry to bother you… (muffled)… your friend (muffled)… so embarrassed, so don’t tell her that I’m calling… (muffled)… what was her name?”

You clap your hand over your mouth when you hear those snippets.

She gives you a devious look before saying, “Oh! Well, she’s right here with me, actually, so you can ask her yourself.”

Mouth full of pizza, you freak out and X your arms to signal a fat NO WAY SHOKO! and fall to pieces all with the taste of pepperoni on your tongue.

But she just hands the phone over to you anyways, then proceeds to silently laugh as you spit out your pizza before talking.

“Hehlooo?”

“H-hey.”

You get right to the point. “My name’s Yn…”

“Oh… I like that… I’m Suguru.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Suguru. Suguru Geto.” He raises his voice.

Cheek hot against the screen of his phone, Suguru is silently freaking out at the tense silence. He can feel his stomach starting to flip. His mind blanks.

“Anyways! Um, that’s all.”

No. That’s not all. He has a novel’s length worth of things to talk about with you.

At this point, Shoko rolls her eyes at the two of you being so awkward on the phone and decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands.

So she snatches the phone from you.

“ – Suguru? Say, you wouldn’t be free on Saturday, would ya? Yeah, I’m going on a date with this guy… and I’d love to make it a double date with you and Yn if you’d like to –”

You hear him stutter out a yes, absolutely before Shoko can even finish her sentence. She grins.

Suguru can sense that the two of you are smiling and giggling. He can predict that the two of you are probably going to gossip about him being the 'dork from the tattoo parlor that called not once, but twice for the name of a girl he just met' – but he doesn’t care. He’s been presented an opportunity and taken it.

To hell with seeming too eager.

When the call ends, Suguru blows out a breath through his lips. Then he promptly texts his best friend. Dark strands of hair slip out of his sloppy bun as he puts his face over the screen, thumbs swift and eager.

Toru 🤞😜 lol bravo... but i thought u said she was out of ur league??

Sugu i mean... yes. she's way too pretty and smart for me. but i'm not gonna pass up this opportunity

Toru 🤞😜 still can't believe u called ur client just to get her friend’s name... lol

Sugu you would understand if you met her ok

Toru 🤞😜 damn she must be something else

Yes, yes you are something else — Suguru can’t even begin to describe why. Translating his thoughts into words isn’t his thing; he translates them into art.

****

It's later in the day. You're lazing around Shoko's apartment.

She confirms the time and place of the double date, and cackles on her couch while kicking her feet, teasing you for being so crazy about a guy you just met – her tattoo artist.

You just couldn’t stop talking about Geto Suguru.

“Shiiit, should I even let you and a bad boy like him be alone in a room together?”

“I can control myself.” you assure her.

She slowly shakes her head at you.

“Yeah right… but can he? I don't trust neither of you... miss crazy and mister crazy... you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

You giggle to yourself, biting your thumb. “Maybe…”

“Oh girl…” she groans, causing you to giggle into yourself, “You’re gonna be licking the tail of his dragon tattoo by the end of the date tomorrow.”

“H-h-he has a what? And where?” you stuttered, lashes quivering.

She shakes her head at you. “God, you’re screwed…”

*****

It's Saturday night. The bar's more alive than ever.

You've learned that Geto Suguru does, in fact, have a dragon tattoo inked up his toned arm – and a tight-fitting black tank top that shows it off along with his martial artist’s physique, too.

He’s got a glint of the devil in his black eyes. Softly-delivered dirty jokes ready to roll off his pierced tongue. A habit of tilting his head and looking hungrily at your lips and neck.

“Martial arts, huh?” you ask with stars in your eyes.

“Mhm, I could teach you a few things.” He purrs in reply.

Your stomach starts squeezing and flipping – that’s got to be the flirtiest 'mhm' that you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

“You think so?” you purr back.

Now it’s his turn to feel that squeezy, flippy feeling in his stomach.

Fuckfuckfuck is all he could think when he looks into your eyes.

I’m gonna fall to pieces. You’re gonna be the death of me.

“Uh…  do you two need some privacy?” Shoko teases.

Oh. It’s a double date. How could you forget? Shoko is literally sitting beside you at the bar with her date. But for a second there, it really felt like it was just you 'n this deliciously tattooed bad boy.

“Maybe.” Suguru chuckles coyly.

“There’s a hotel just next door…”

“Shoko!” you scold, playfully shoving her arm.

She giggles into herself, sipping down her cocktail innocently as if she didn’t just electrify the air between you and Suguru. His throat’s tensing, foot’s tapping up and down on the bar stool – boy’s got long spider-legs, huh?

Now after that, Suguru grins wider – showing off his pretty canines – his posture assuming something self-soothing; he holds his elbows, arms squished against his ribcage, which just makes his biceps more pronounced. Oh why, why did he have to wear a tank top like that? Surely he’s aware of the effect it has on girls. Or maybe he’s oblivious…

Nah. He's not.

*****

“Did it hurt?” you ask, trying to blink out the tipsiness from your love-drunk eyes but you’ve got three cosmopolitans surging through your veins.

“Not really… I’ve got great pain tolerance.” Suguru replies.

“Oh really?” you blink up at him again and his mind goes blank.

“Look at that...” He murmurs softly, not breaking eye contact with you. Where’s your friend and her date? Who knows. It’s just you and him now – and that’s all he wanted.

“Hm?”

“Not every day I see eyes like that…”

You widen your lips into a smile, “You’re laying it on thick.”

“Am I? Sorry – see, this is what happens after you feed Suguru too much rum. I just can’t keep my mouth shut.”

“That’s terrible… need someone to shut ya up?” you flirt.

He tilts his head at you, loose strands of hair shifting across his cheek. His left brow quirks up – he’s so taken aback by your forwardness but he falls right into it.

You just giggle flirtatiously after making that comment and pull the straw of your drink between your lips, sucking the remnants of a cosmopolitan into your mouth as sensually as you dare to in front of a bad boy who’s got bedroom eyes on you.

“I think I could do with some shutting up…” he admits.

“Mm,” you hum, “y’think by our third date you’re gonna snap and kiss me hard like we’re in a movie?”

Suguru smiles bashfully and looks down into his drink, swirling the melting ice cubes with a straw – slowly, round and round, they clink. Then he draws his gaze back to you, catching you with a sultry side-eye, and now it’s not just the ice cubes that are melting.

“Nah-uh…”

“Nah-uh?” you question.

“… I think it’s you who’s gonna snap first.” He says.

“Wanna bet?” you tease.

“Sure. What’ll be at stake?” he asks.

He keeps his sultry gaze on you as you look off to the side in thought for a moment. Your friend’s joke echoes in your mind.

“… you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

Then you look back to him – his heart throbs but he’s trying to keep it together here, pulling his straw to his lips to get a sip of whatever rum still exists in his glass.

“Loser gets a regrettable tattoo?” you suggest.

He looks at you with a little bit of disbelief at your boldness.

“How regrettable?” he questions, one eye squinting shut in suspicion. He's wondering just how wild you actually are.

“Like my name on you? Or vice versa.”

He covers his mouth and lets out a chuckle hearing this. “You want me to tattoo my name on ya skin?” he teases. “Sure, I’ll bet on that.”

You can’t believe that he’s matching your crazy.

You stutter, replying only after a lingering moment of hot eye contact, “… there’s no way I’m gonna snap first…” you say boldly, proceeding to pop the cherry of your drink into your mouth and eating it right in front of the poor boy’s eyes. “ ‘m gonna have you walkin’ around with my name on you.”

Eyes glued on your lips, his breath catches in his throat.

“Yeah?”

Ooh, there it was. That feeling. That body singing electric songs feeling… that tummy-tightening, blood-rushing, skin-flushing feeling – it hit him all at once. He knows that if he were standing, his knees would have buckled now for sure, or at least he would have felt the tremor of your words under his feet.

He’s unsteady – smiling uncontrollably, looking dishevelled and softly drunk. Those rouge lips are begging to be kissed.

The bar grows quieter and quieter.

You’re hardly able to call each other anything more than strangers, and yet you’re leaning into him, closing the distance.

The tips of your noses are just inches apart now. You’re in each other’s air. He eyes out your lips, feels your hot, liquor-scented breath tickle his face.

But when you try and close the distance, he raises his hand and presses his thumb against your soft lips, stopping you.

“What happened to that bold statement, huh? Keep it together, baby; the bet’s on.” He feathers against your face.

*****

Tumbling into Shoko’s apartment after a night out drinking, you smile and giggle into the pillows of her bed.

She’s letting her hair down and swapping out her tight dress for jammies when she looks at you in your gleeful state.

“Someone’s in love.” She teases, coming over to tickle you.

“I’m not in love!”

“Oh, quit the act; I saw how the two of you said goodbye – you could barely hold yourself together. Drunk or not, I ain’t seen two adults giggling like that before.”

“Sh!” you swat her, “Not! In! Love!”

She takes a look into your eyes and observes your smile, then shakes her head. You're drowsy, so you make a dive into her bed and fall asleep almost instantly.

Shoko pulls a blanket over you, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“Madly in love, at the very least.”

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yandere ex who wants you back

yandere ex who textes you everyday, on everything

yandere ex who you blocked, so how is he still managing to message you?!!!

yandere ex who makes 67 new alt accounts, pretending to be nail artists that you won a give away for

yandere ex who sends you an address, and you come but immediately scowl when you see him open the door

yandere ex who gets slapped by you once you realized he set his whole thing up

yandere ex who calls you everyday, crying into his phone

yandere ex who shows up to your door one day, all dressed up and shit, with flowers in his hand

yandere ex who you gave a dirty look too and slammed the door on his face

yandere ex who comes to your door everyday, with a new tuxedo and flowers, and chocolates asking for a second chance

yandere ex who you broke up with for being hella possessive, even going as far as deleting your family's members numbers so the only person you'll ever talk to is him and only him!

yandere ex who only fucks girls that look like you, hitting them from the back since if he sees their face it'll run the fantasy that hes fucking you

yandere ex who pretends hes fucking you, while fucking some random girl, moaning out your name and everything while the girl dont gaf since yan ex fine asf

yandere ex who can only get his dick wet if hes thinking about you

yandere ex who scrolls through your instagram pics, rubbing his wet pinkish tip as he likes all your pics, groaning out your name

yandere ex who has had several diff gfs after your break up to try to make you jealous and come back to him but never works

yandere ex whose gf has gone through his phone and saw the many diff down bad messages he sents you,

𝐲/𝐧_𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐚𝐞_𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

bae take me BACKK

bae PLEASEE

THAT GIRL IN MY INSTA HIGHLIGHTS IS NOTHING COMPARED TO UUU

BAE I LUV U

U MY EVERYTHINGG

PLEASEE

baby

please

BABE

did you get a new man?

is he fucking better than me or something?

y/n im not fucking playing with you

I hope he gets run over

I hope he gets skinned and worms go inside his body and begin to eat him

actually tell ur bf to watch out at excatly 10:34 pm.

------------------------------

yandere ex who broke up with his gf and got into a huge agrument after he said "what the fuck? my ex was wayyy better than what ever the fuck your doing" during sex

yandere ex who broke up with his girl after a week of dating and decides to go text you, acting as if he was super hurt and depressed when he just wanted to have a reason to text u

yandere ex who you actually had a convo with, helping him with his 'sadness' (more like freakiness bc he was holing the phone with one hand, stroking his dick the whole convo)

yandere ex who is now ur sorta friend and thinks u guys are back together

yandere ex who never got over you, and wants you back terribly

[pucksandpower]

Pollinated

Day 11 → Sex Pollen 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and dubious consent

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’ve got a stack waiting for you.” Alan leans on the edge of your desk, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s holding a bundle of envelopes, some thick with scribbled messages, some thin and printed with clean, crisp fonts.

Your PR officer’s eyebrows raise in mock exasperation as he shakes them at you. “How do you even have time to race with all these fans wanting a piece of you?”

You grin, setting down your coffee and wiping your hands on your pants. “That’s the problem of being so popular, Alan. It’s a curse, really.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a real burden. Everyone loving you.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.”

He drops the stack in front of you with a soft thud. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” His tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of something more serious underneath, like he’s reminding you there’s more work to be done after this.

You roll your eyes as he walks off. You love this part of your day — the letters, the drawings, the fan art from kids who see something in you that makes them believe they can be here too. They’re always so personal, full of energy, like they’re rooting for you from their living rooms or school desks.

You flick through the pile, reading the familiar opening lines. Dear Y/N, you’re such an inspiration or I love watching you race! Your heart lifts as you come across a brightly colored drawing from a girl named Chloe, of you standing on a podium, arms raised in victory. It makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt a little. You can practically hear the little girl’s voice, excitedly telling her parents, “That’s gonna be me one day.”

“This is what it’s about,” you mutter under your breath, running your fingers over the crayon marks.

More letters. More words of encouragement. A scribbled note from a group of university students who drove twelve hours just to see you race last season. A letter from an older woman who says she’s been watching F1 since her husband introduced her to it in the ‘70s and how proud she is to see a woman making waves. You pause at that one, your chest swelling. You’ll have to write her back.

You reach for the next envelope, a bit plainer than the others. No stickers, no hand-drawn doodles in the margins. It’s simple, just your name written on the front in neat black ink. Your gut tugs slightly, but you brush it off. Not every fan is an artist.

You open it, pulling out a card with a printed picture of a car on the front. Your car. You smile, flipping it open to read the message inside.

But your smile fades as you start to read.

You don’t belong here.

The words are bold, black, and stark against the white paper. They stand out like a punch to the gut, each line colder and more hateful than the last. The handwriting is meticulous, like whoever wrote it wanted to be sure you’d understand every word.

Women like you are ruining the sport.

Your throat tightens. Your fingers grip the edges of the card a little harder than before, the edges bending under the pressure.

Go back to doing what you’re good at: nothing.

You try to swallow, but it feels like there’s a knot lodged in your throat. It’s not the first time you’ve seen something like this. Hell, it’s not even the worst thing anyone’s said. But right now, it’s too sharp, too specific, too venomous.

You reach up to close the card, your hand trembling slightly. But before you can fully shut it, something catches your eye — a tiny puff of fine yellow powder shoots from the fold, drifting into the air in front of you.

“What the-” You blink, confused for a split second.

Then, it hits.

A burning sensation spreads through your throat and nose. Your skin tingles, a wave of heat rushing over your face. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling fire. Panic spikes as your vision blurs.

“Alan!” The name barely makes it past your lips before you feel your legs give way beneath you.

“Alan!” You try again, but it comes out weaker this time. Your limbs feel heavy, your chest tight, and the room starts to spin in slow, nauseating circles.

Footsteps pound across the floor. Alan’s voice sounds far away, muffled, like he’s underwater. You catch a glimpse of him sprinting toward you, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/N?”

Your body jerks uncontrollably, a violent shudder running through you. The room twists, everything turning hazy as you hit the floor hard, your fingers twitching against the cool tile.

“What the hell — Y/N!” Alan’s panic is sharp now, cutting through the fog. You can barely see him through the haze clouding your vision, but you feel him grab your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me, okay?” His voice cracks, fear bleeding through the edges.

Your entire body seizes again, every muscle clamping down painfully. A sharp cry escapes your throat as the convulsions take over, uncontrollable now.

“Help! Somebody, help!” Alan’s voice is frantic, desperate, echoing through the room as the world starts to fade. His hands are on your face now, trying to keep you conscious. You feel his fingers trembling against your skin, hear the panic rising in his voice as he keeps shouting for help.

But you’re slipping, sinking deeper into the darkness as the convulsions wrack your body. You can’t speak. You can’t move.

Alan’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

***

The world returns slowly, like surfacing from a deep dive. There’s a ringing in your ears, muffled voices blending into the constant hum of machinery. Your body feels like it’s on fire — each nerve sizzling under your skin, radiating heat. You try to move, but it’s as if you’re bound by weights. The sheets beneath you cling to your body, too warm, too tight, too much.

Someone’s talking nearby, but it’s distant, warped. You can’t make out the words yet. Everything feels heavy — your eyelids, your chest, even your breathing. Your mouth is dry, your tongue like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

Slowly, the fog begins to clear, and you catch fragments of conversation.

“… highly illegal substance …” A voice, crisp and professional, filters through. The doctor. “… extreme toxicity … very few cases on record …”

You try to focus, but the burning sensation inside you only intensifies. It’s everywhere — your limbs, your core, your mind. Like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.

You manage a groan, the sound barely escaping your lips.

“She’s waking up,” someone says, closer now. Alan? It sounds like him, but there’s a hitch in his usually confident voice. Panic.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the room comes into blurry focus. Harsh fluorescent lights. Sterile white walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic clogs your senses, a sharp contrast to the heat still coursing through you. You blink slowly, your vision sharpening enough to see Alan standing by your bedside, pale and jittery, his hand running through his hair in nervous strokes.

Across from him is the doctor, his white coat stiff and immaculate. He’s holding a clipboard, and his face is a mask of concern. When he speaks, it feels like each word takes a lifetime to process.

“… the substance she was exposed to … it’s not just any powder,” the doctor is saying, his voice measured but grim. “It’s a synthetic pollen derivative, known as Lust Dust on the black market.”

Lust Dust. The words sink into you, but you don’t recognize them. Your throat feels too tight to ask for clarification. Alan, however, doesn’t hesitate.

“What does that mean? What the hell is that?” Alan’s voice is raw, frayed at the edges.

The doctor sighs, flipping through the notes on his clipboard before answering. “It’s an extremely illegal bio-weapon, developed underground. It was used in several isolated attacks a few years ago, mostly in war zones. The symptoms … well, they’re brutal.”

You don’t like the sound of this. Brutal. Illegal. Bio-weapon. The words swirl around in your head, each one setting off alarm bells, but you can barely move enough to react. You just lie there, heat pulsing through you, your body screaming in agony.

“The pollen attacks the body’s nervous system,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical. “It acts as a stimulant, targeting primal instincts, heightening … certain responses. The most dangerous part is that, if untreated, the body will burn out within hours.”

“Burn out?” Alan echoes, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What does that mean? You mean … she’ll die?”

“Yes,” the doctor replies, his tone darkening. “In most cases, without intervention, the victim’s body will shut down. It’s a highly sexualized toxin. The only way to counteract the effects is through physical release.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. The words hover in the air, sinking into the room with a weight you can almost feel. Your heart races, your mind struggling to comprehend what’s being said. Physical release? The burning sensation in your body intensifies, like it’s reacting to the very idea of what the doctor’s suggesting.

Alan’s face pales further, his hand gripping the back of his neck in horror. “Wait, are you — are you saying she has to-”

“Sex,” the doctor says bluntly, not sugar-coating anything. “Yes. If she doesn’t have sex soon, she will die. The sooner, the better, to mitigate the damage the pollen’s already caused.”

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, despite the unbearable heat raging inside you. The fire in your veins is consuming everything, twisting the doctor’s words into cruel irony. This can’t be happening. Not this.

“I … I …“ Alan stammers, clearly at a loss, his eyes flicking to you, desperate and terrified. “There’s got to be another way. Medicine? A procedure? Something?”

The doctor shakes his head. “There’s no antidote. The only option is the one I’ve given you.”

You want to scream. You want to cry. But you can’t do anything except lie there, burning from the inside out, unable to stop the panic surging through you as the realization sinks in.

Alan takes a shaky breath. “What … what do we do now?”

The doctor straightens, his voice calm but commanding. “The most important thing is finding someone who’s willing to … assist.”

Alan’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can say anything, the door bursts open and several members of your team file into the room — engineers, mechanics, staff. Their faces are tight with concern, and they crowd into the small space, murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” Someone asks, their voice tense.

Alan quickly explains, his voice shaking as he goes over the details. The pollen. The bio-weapon. The need for “intervention.” Every word makes your heart pound harder, and you can feel the collective shock ripple through the room as the reality of the situation sets in.

“She needs someone,” Alan says, his voice thick with emotion. “She needs someone to …”

He can’t even finish the sentence.

The room falls into stunned silence. You can hear the soft hum of the machines around you, the ragged breathing of the people in the room. It feels like time has stopped, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone.

Then, the whispers start.

“I’ll do it,” someone mutters.

“No, I will,” another voice pipes up. You recognize it as one of the engineers, his voice shaky but sincere.

“I mean, she’s our driver, right? We have to help.”

More voices chime in, each one offering, each one willing. The panic in the room turns to a frantic eagerness, as though everyone suddenly realizes what’s at stake. You can barely comprehend it — the idea that your team, your colleagues, are discussing this as though it’s just another task, something to be done to save your life.

Your mind is spinning, your body trembling with the heat still coursing through you. You want to shout at them, tell them to stop, that this isn’t how things should be. But you can’t move, can’t speak. All you can do is listen as the conversation grows more chaotic, more desperate.

Then, the door opens again, and a new voice cuts through the noise.

“Everyone out.”

It’s Max.

The room falls silent instantly, every head turning toward him. He stands in the doorway, his face hard and set, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity you’ve never seen before. He looks around the room, his gaze sharp, taking in the faces of your teammates, the panic, the confusion.

“I said out,” Max repeats, his voice calm but firm.

No one moves at first, too shocked to respond. But then one by one, they start to file out, murmuring to each other in hushed tones as they leave the room. You hear Alan hesitate for a moment, but even he doesn’t argue. The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone with Max.

You’re too weak to turn your head, but you can hear him walk closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He doesn’t speak right away, and the silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the soft beeping of the machines monitoring your condition.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Max’s voice fills the room. “It’s going to be me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“No one else is touching you,” he says, his tone low, steady. “I’m your teammate. I’m the one who’s going to help you. Not them.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear the resolve in his voice, the determination. He’s not offering. He’s deciding. There’s no question, no hesitation. It’s going to be him, and no one else.

And as the burning inside you flares again, you realize that part of you is grateful.

***

The air between you and Max is thick with tension, the kind that crackles in the silence, heavy with unspoken words. You lie there, your body still ablaze, the fire under your skin pulsing in waves, but something about his presence — steady, resolute — grounds you, if only just. You can’t move, can barely speak, but your mind races, half-paralyzed with the agony of the pollen and half with the strange anticipation of what’s to come.

Max stands beside the bed, his face framed by the fluorescent lights above, casting shadows that sharpen his features. He doesn’t look afraid, though you can tell there’s something behind his eyes — something that trembles just beneath the surface. His gaze locks onto yours, and it feels like he’s looking past the pain, past the situation, to something deeper.

“This isn’t how I imagined …“ His voice is soft, barely more than a whisper, as though the words aren’t meant to be heard by anyone but you. He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours, tentative at first, like he’s asking permission for what’s about to happen.

You want to respond, to say something, but your throat is too tight, too raw, the burning heat still tearing through you. You manage the faintest of nods, your hand twitching against his, and that’s all he needs.

Max leans over, his face close to yours now, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand trails gently down your arm, his touch soft, careful. “I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, his voice low, soothing. “We’ll get through this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in that same quiet, tender voice, he adds, “Schatje … you’re so strong.”

The endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, and despite everything — despite the fire tearing you apart from the inside out — it brings a strange, aching warmth to your chest. Max has never called you that before. The intimacy of it catches you off guard, though you don’t have the strength to dwell on it for long.

His hands move lower now, brushing across your skin with reverence, as though you might break under his touch. You shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“You don’t deserve this,” Max whispers, his forehead nearly touching yours. His voice cracks ever so slightly, betraying the calm façade he’s trying to maintain. “I’ve … I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he admits softly, his words a confession, raw and vulnerable. “But not like this. Never like this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s handling you with such care, as though he’s afraid of hurting you. And somehow, through the pain, you manage to relax just enough to let him in. Just enough to let him take some of the weight from you.

He presses his lips to your temple, a soft, lingering kiss, and you can feel the tremble in his breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the burning inside you dims, replaced by something else. Something warm, and tender, and utterly consuming. Max moves with purpose now, his touch becoming more sure, more confident, but never losing that careful tenderness. He’s cooing to you, whispering soft praises in Dutch, his voice like a balm against the fire raging inside you.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Max admits again, his words spilling out like he can’t hold them back any longer. “For so long. I just … I didn’t know how to tell you.”

His hands continue their journey, and despite the circumstances, despite the fire still licking at your insides, your body responds. Every touch feels magnified, every brush of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something deeper through you, something primal and desperate and… needed.

“You’re so strong,” he says again, his voice reverent, almost in awe. “So perfect. I don’t know how you do it.”

Your body trembles beneath him, not just from the fire that’s still coursing through you, but from the way he’s touching you, the way his words wrap around you like a soft embrace. It’s intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, the vulnerability of the moment stripping away any pretense, any barriers you might have once had.

“I’m here, liefje,” Max whispers, his lips brushing against your ear now. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You don’t know how he manages it, how he makes something so painful feel like this, but he does. His hands are everywhere, soothing the burn, coaxing your body to relax, to give in to what you need. And with every touch, every whispered endearment, the fire inside you dims, just a little, just enough to let you breathe.

“I wish it was different,” Max murmurs, his voice thick with emotion now. “I wish this was … just us. Not because of this. Not because of …“ His words trail off, but you understand. You understand perfectly.

He presses his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged, his body tense with the effort of keeping himself composed. “But I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his voice fierce with determination. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Your body reacts to him instinctively now, every nerve ending lighting up in response to his touch, the fire inside you blazing hotter but in a way that feels … different. Less painful. More like an ache, a deep, desperate need that only he can fill.

“Max …“ you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse, barely audible. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since waking up, and it feels like a release, like a crack in the wall you’ve built around yourself. He hears it, though, and his gaze softens, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve always got you.”

His movements quicken, and you can feel yourself spiraling, the fire inside you building to a crescendo, but this time it’s not just pain. It’s something more, something overwhelming and all-consuming. You can feel him with you, guiding you, coaxing you toward the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers again, his voice breathless now, his own control slipping. “I’ve wanted you for so long …“

His words send you tumbling over the edge, your body convulsing in a wave of pleasure so intense it nearly takes your breath away. The fire beneath your skin peaks, then suddenly, blessedly, begins to recede. It’s like the flames are being extinguished, one by one, leaving only warmth in their wake.

And Max is there, holding you through it, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t move.

As the last of the fire dies down, as your body finally begins to relax, you hear him whisper, so softly you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, unguarded and raw, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The room, the pain, the circumstances that brought you here — it all disappears, leaving only the two of you, tangled together, vulnerable and exposed.

You’re too weak to respond, too exhausted from everything that’s just happened, but Max doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

“I love you,” he whispers again, like he’s afraid you didn’t hear him the first time. “I’ve always loved you.”

His confession hangs in the air, delicate and fragile, but it feels right. Like it’s been waiting to be said all along.

As the fire beneath your skin finally dies out completely, as your body settles into a state of calm for the first time in hours, you let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, his warmth the only thing keeping the remnants of the fire at bay.

Max doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. And you don’t want him to.

***

Max holds you close, his body pressed against yours, his breath still coming in shallow bursts as the two of you lie in a tangled heap on the bed. The burning fire that had been searing through your body has finally been extinguished, leaving only a lingering warmth that feels manageable now.

But even though the pain is gone, even though your body has found relief, there’s still something… unfinished. A strange, restless feeling that hums beneath your skin, an ache that begs for more.

Max is quiet beside you, his hand brushing gently through your hair as he watches your face, his expression soft but intent, like he’s still worried, still waiting for some sign that you’re okay. But you can see it in his eyes — he knows. He knows it’s not over yet.

You shift beneath him, the subtle movement sending a ripple of sensation through you, and your breath hitches involuntarily. The fire is gone, but that need, that craving — it’s still there, simmering just below the surface. It’s not the urgent, desperate heat of the pollen, but it’s undeniable.

Max’s gaze sharpens, reading the subtle cues in your body. His hand stills in your hair, and you feel him shift beside you, his body tensing slightly as he watches you, waiting for you to say something, to ask for what you need.

You don’t have to.

“Oh liefje,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You still need more, don’t you?”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, unable to form the words. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — understanding, maybe, or something deeper. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He already knows.

Max’s hand trails down your body, his touch feather-light, and it sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instantly. He presses a kiss to your temple, then to your jaw, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “I’m here,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Whatever you need.”

His lips travel lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, and you arch into him, your body aching for more. He moves slowly, deliberately, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips when he moves lower still, his mouth brushing against your collarbone. He’s taking his time, drawing this out, making sure every second is filled with pleasure, with tenderness. There’s no urgency now, no frantic need to cure the fire. This is something else — something deliberate, something intimate.

Max’s hands slide down your sides, his thumbs brushing lightly over your ribs as he lowers himself down the bed. His mouth follows the path his hands have carved, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and teasing, as he moves lower, kissing across your stomach with slow, deliberate care.

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, each touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your fingers tangle in the sheets, gripping them tightly as you fight to keep your composure, but Max makes it impossible. His lips are everywhere, soft and warm and completely unrelenting.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I don’t think you even realize …”

His words send a thrill through you, and your breath catches as his hands slide lower, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips. He presses a kiss to your navel, and you feel the heat pooling deep inside you, the need building again, stronger this time, more insistent.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you. He always hears you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers back, his voice soft, reassuring. “Just relax.”

You try, but it’s impossible with the way he’s touching you, the way he’s kissing you, like every part of you deserves his undivided attention. He’s worshiping you with every movement, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Max’s hands slide up your thighs, and your breath stutters as he spreads your legs wider, his eyes dark with want as he looks up at you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he presses a kiss just below the dip of your waist, teasing you, making you wait.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Do you know that?”

You can’t respond, can’t do anything but arch into him, desperate for more. He knows exactly what you need, and he’s giving it to you slowly, carefully, savoring every moment.

Max’s hands grasp your thighs, and he pulls them apart slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something in his gaze — something raw, something vulnerable. He’s giving himself to you completely, just as much as you’re giving yourself to him.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, and your entire body shudders in response. Every nerve is on fire again, but this time it’s not the cruel burn of the pollen.

This is different. This is Max.

He pauses for a moment, his lips hovering just above where you need him most, and he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath.

You can’t form the words. All you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him.

Max smiles, a small, almost shy smile, and then he lowers his head, his mouth finally, blessedly, on you. The sensation is immediate, intense, and you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he works you with a precision that only he seems to know. His tongue moves slowly at first, teasing you, drawing out your pleasure, but it doesn’t take long for him to find the rhythm that makes your entire body sing.

He’s relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, driving you higher and higher until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel. The pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside you until you’re sure you’re going to break.

“Max!” You gasp, your body arching off the bed. “Please …”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. If anything, he goes faster, his tongue working you with an intensity that leaves you trembling. You’re so close, so impossibly close, and he knows it.

“That’s it,” he whispers against you, his voice thick with need. “Let go, schatje. I’ve got you.”

And then, with one last flick of his tongue, you’re gone, tumbling over the edge into a wave of pleasure so intense it almost hurts. Your entire body convulses, your vision going white as you fall apart beneath him, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they burn.

Max doesn’t let up, his mouth still on you, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re nothing but a trembling, panting mess. When he finally pulls away, you’re left gasping for breath, your body slick with sweat, your heart racing in your chest.

He crawls back up the bed, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he goes, his hands soothing over your trembling limbs. When he finally reaches your face, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair back from your face.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft, reassuring. “You’re okay.”

You can barely nod, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. Max pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as you come down from the high. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And then, just as your breathing begins to slow, the door creaks open.

The doctor walks in, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight of you and Max — sweaty, tangled together, your bodies still humming with the afterglow. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at his clipboard, then back at you.

“Well,” he says after a moment, his tone entirely too clinical for the situation. “It appears the cure has been administered.”

Max stiffens beside you, but the doctor doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He simply jots down a few notes on his clipboard, his pen scratching loudly in the silence.

“Residual effects of heightened libido may persist,” the doctor adds, almost as an afterthought. He glances up from his notes, his gaze flicking between you and Max, then nods, satisfied. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you and Max in stunned silence.

Max lets out a breath, a low, incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Did he seriously just …”

You nod, still too dazed to form a coherent response.

Max shakes his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “Well, I guess we’re not done yet.”

And with the way your body still hums with need, you know he’s right.

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.

[celestialtarot11]

Future Spouse PAC—

Hi friends! Highly requested—a future pick a spouse reading. I appreciate all of you for being here <3 please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow! Your presence means the world. It’s also 11:11 as I type this so for anyone who needs this here you go.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Hope all is well in your world. For you I see a lot of prominence in your future spouse. They are physically well dressed, put together and appear luxurious. They can invest in quality brands and wear clothing that makes them feel good. I’m seeing someone wear a long tail coat and it emphasizes their height, because it’s slender and yet angular. This person has a great sense of fashion! I heard fashion icon. Some people may look to your future spouse for inspiration, and I heard designer. So perhaps they work closely with others in a artistic sense! They could be a Leo, Taurus or Capricorn. This is also someone who is generous with their energy and resources so if someone needs help they will offer it! Humble, has humility and carries themselves well. I have a feeling this is someone slightly older than you! They could have a pet as well, maybe a parrot for someone or a budgie. Cute! But back to their generosity I feel they give back to their community a lot, and may donate, raise funds for charity! There’s this soothing angelicness to them which people are drawn to, and their smile is also soft and beautiful! It’s something you’ll really like! I also see boyish rugged features for those who are interested in men. And for women I see chubby cheeks, fuller lips and lighter eyes! Your person can be on the taller side :) As for their hobbies may include hiking, skiing, camping! They may go with family as well. They could also be into religious studies like studying different religions, cultures and traditions. They may not necessarily be religious, but study the bible or Quran for example. They just love to learn. Thank you pile 1 for being here! Means a lot to me. Hope you like comment and reblog <3

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Haha for you I got a very elusive slippery energy from your future spouse. I feel as though in their younger years they were really hot. They were a know it all. They were charming, devious and funny. And they still are! They’ve certainly still got it going. I do feel as though when you meet them you might pick up on those traits from their past and stay away—but this person has identified that they want a deeper commitment here with you. They have grown a lot and instead of chasing cat and mouse, they are confident in attracting the right person. They don’t want games anymore, I’m hearing they don’t have time for it. So your person could be very busy and on the go often, like traveling to other states or places for work. It requires them to constantly be moving. I feel as though there is an element of long distance here but not necessarily forever! They can be foreign, as well. Different culture, values, traditions. But I think this’ll draw them in even more to you and vice versa. I feel this person has worked their way up to developing self respect and esteem, so they may be a bit intimidating at first. I see honey blonde hair, fair to tan skin, and tall figure. They can have toned figures and look as if they work out. They may be into sports of some kind that challenges their body. They need to get that energy out, i feel as though they’re like electricity, constantly sparking and looking to connect to a source. They can be scattered and flighty because their job is demanding of them, but they mean well. They’re funny, confident, boisterous, and charming! Very smooth with their word so expect them to charm your pants off ;) They may have black hair and keep it neatly trimmed! For men I see a neat beard and it isn’t long, it’s not a stubble either. It defines their face very well and I feel they have intense eyes. For women I see brown hair, thinner lips and green eyes! Or just lighter eyes in general. I feel they’re known as muscle mommy 😭 because their body is toned. Thank you pile 2 for being here! Any likes comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Pile 3: Okay right away pile 3 Electric by Alina Baraz began to play! Lol hope your day has been well. I feel as though this person is intense, stern and firm at first. I heard CEO. What kind of wattpad love story is this? Lmfao im hooked. Anyway, this person could have a higher position in your job and I do feel how you meet is they help you out. They may offer you a position, or talk to you, and somehow it slips out that you’re struggling. Im seeing two people meet for coffee in the lounge room and hitting it off, and its unexpected. I feel you two may expect a purely professional relationship but no—this is something deeper. There’s this feeling of intimacy and closeness with you two, like you two saw each other a long time ago and now you’re meeting again. Very familiar and comforting. Feels like 4h synastry! I love that. I do feel as though your future spouse is a provider and doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns in bed too ;) they are skilled I should mention. I also feel they are someone who tries to understand what their emotions are and what its telling them. So you can help them, maybe you understand emotional processing better and can guide them. They’ll guide you through the material world and offer insights, and help you feel stable financially. I almost feel as though you’re the spiritual one and they are in touch with the material realm. So they are stunned when they hear of your spiritual journey and not only that but attracted. They feel tempted by what they don’t understand. Speaking of temptation—theres a lot. Psychologically it’s tempting to fall into old patterns and I feel as though this connection is helping you release that, but also intimately the temptation is there! Very strong. “Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea.” I keep hearing that from the song and it describes the depth of your connection when you two meet. I also hear, “touch me, your electric baby.” So you two will definitely feel it. Its unmistakable! A little work romance never hurt anyone LOL that’s what I heard. Someone is saying it like a hushed whisper so I feel ya’ll will physically get closer to talk to one another—it’s an unconscious action yet so intimate. There’s a lot of unspoken tension here between you two. Anyways pile 3 enjoy <3 I hope this helped you! And please don’t forget to like comment and reblog to share the love.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[kurooh]

LIGHTS, CAMERAS, ACTION.

🎬 includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, & kaminark denki; + kirishima eijirō cameo!

🎬 warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, pornstar & quirkless au, oral [m&f giving/receiving], vibrators, lots of fucking, threesome, orgasm torture but gentle, lingerie, shower sex, slight name calling (“slut”). not proofread so some parts may sound as though they were written by a degenerate

🎬 notes: here is THEE fabled pornstar au. hero names -> pornstar names. i had so much fun writing this — it may be the new crowning jewel of my blog.. after hours of writing, i hope you all enjoy! <3

DEKU.

☆ known as UA studios’ sweetheart, he has a wild side that viewers go crazy for! his most successful videos involve pussy eating, anal sex, food play, and ads for sex toys/clothing.

“alright,” the director, iida, says to you, “have you reviewed the script? do you understand our requirements?” a friendly makeup artist dusts a hint of blush across your cheeks, and smiles at her work. the makeup look is balanced between noticeable and natural — meant to compliment the lingerie adorning your body beneath your short dress.

“yes, i’ve reviewed it. no fake moans, of course.”

“that’s right. everything must be completely natural. we’re trying to sell pleasure, good sex, and lingerie.”

iida smiles at you, and looks around at the staff waiting for his order. “everyone, please get into position! deku, y/n, remember, you can say cut at any time.”

the cameramen assemble behind their equipment, and iida sits in his chair, script packet in hand. you and deku walk towards the bedroom setup, standing behind the door, preparing to walk on set. “action!”

deku pulls you into his arms, kissing you hard while one of his hands yanks at the door handle. he rams into it with his shoulder, and the both of you are suddenly beneath the warm set lights looking down into the cozy bedroom. you moan, tipping your head back slightly to suck on one of his soft lips, earning a desperate groan from him. when he pushes his hips against yours, your breath catches in your throat when his clothed cock presses against your thinly covered pelvis. part of you didn’t expect him to be this aroused, considering the amount of women he’s been with. you pull back gently, lines from the script flashing in your mind. “i need you so badly, deku.”

deku knows it’s a script, but goddamn do you sound convincing — like you truly want him more than anything. he kisses at your neck, arms wrapped around you, and tugs you with him down onto the bed. now you’re on top of him, in your see-through dress, grinding down on his pelvis and cock desperately. groaning, he flips the two of you over and cages you beneath him with his arms and chest. according to the script, one of his hands should be wandering under your dress and caressing whatever he can touch, but he stares at you instead, enamored with how beautiful you look. he kisses you one last time, and slips off your dress, his eyes going wide at the lacy lingerie adorning your body.

squirming under his gaze, you let your legs fall open, and he leans forward to kiss down your body, starting at your collarbone. he yanks at your bra straps, struggling to get the damn thing off you.

“sit up for me, baby.” deku murmurs, undoing the clasps on your back swiftly and laying you back down on the duvet once the bra’s off. going off script again, he squeezes your tits and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “oh, you’re so fucking beautiful.” your face warms and your back arches off the bed, pressing your tits into his face. his large, scarred hands grasp your tits eagerly, and more wetness pools in the underwear you’re supposed to be selling.

your hips jerk and twist beneath and against his own, and he moans loudly, desperately. deku finally pulls away from your tits, and focuses his attention on your clothed pussy. you’ve completely wet the lacy underwear through and through, causing it to become skin tight against your pussy; your wet folds are now extra defined.

“what a pretty pussy,” deku gasps, slipping his fingers into the crotch part of the underwear and yanking it to the side, exposing your fluttering cunt. with the script and its lines completely abandoned, you and deku make your own ad — “please, deku, wanna cum for you.”

breathlessly, he grabs your hips and tugs your pussy into his face, your clit bumping against his nose. now propped up against the pillows and fully naked, you watch the way he jerks his hips into the bed through lidded eyes. the sight of his desperation adds to your arousal, and you let out a whimper when he easily slips two fingers into you. deku begins a fast, rough pace with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you mercilessly. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks, switching between sucking and licking. you’re blissed out, eyes rolled back and body trembling — all you can hear are deku’s moans and the squelches your pussy makes from his fingers.

“oh, deku,” the thought that your throat will be sore from how loud you are tomorrow flashes through your mind briefly, “please don’t stop!”

he grips you tighter, pushes his face into your pussy more, trying to get impossibly closer to you. his hips quicken against the bed, his pants slipping off him. wait, when had he undone them?

you muffle a scream by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, his large fingers hitting the right spots deep inside you and stretching you out. “pleasepleaseplease,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you’re so far gone. “deku, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

suddenly, your hips buck into his face and there are hot sparks inside of your body, all over you. something in your pussy snaps, and you squirt all over him helplessly. the duvet is splashed, and you even get some on your belly and pelvis. deku takes most of your cum right in the face, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.

shaking, you use your fingers to collect some of the liquid on your pelvis, and then press them into his open mouth. he moans, sucking on your fingers, his own body shaking. you lean forward slightly, eyes widening when you see a very noticeable wet spot on the front of his boxers, and some dampness on the duvet beneath him. his face is completely wet with your slick and squirt, and you cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, moaning when you taste yourself.

you both sit like that in silence, panting and coming down from your highs. until you both turn to iida and the cameramen, who look very surprised. he clears his throat. “we said cut a while ago.”

DYNAMIGHT.

☆ notorious for his rough demeanor and handling of co-stars, UA studios’ dynamight is popular internationally. his close friendship with fellow star red riot is revered; very occasionally, they collaborate together.

“okay, is everyone situated?” the director, iida asks, taking a step back to look over the setup. a stage crew member adds a pillow behind red riot, and smooths out the crimson couch cushion.

“hurry up and start fuckin’ filming.” dynamight holds the base of his cock tightly, trying to not lose his erection. you’re positioned between him and red riot, tits out, legs spread and sitting lazily. red riot sits behind you, a ring around the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough for a bit of precum to sit atop the head of his cock.

“bakugo!” he hisses, “no need to be so rude to them. i’m sorry for him, everyone.” typically, the rule is to only call co-stars by their porn names, to protect each other’s identities, but the three of you are friends outside of the industry, so none of you follow that rule with each other.

“thank you, kirishima.” iida glances at bakugo pointedly, then turns to sit in his director’s chair. he holds the script packet in his hand, and the clapperboard in the other. “action!” the cameras begin rolling at the clap.

immediately, bakugo grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss, nipping at your lips while kirishima takes one of your nipples into his mouth and starts to suck. you moan against bakugo’s lips, your left hand sliding from your side up and into kirishima’s soft red hair, and you push his head into your chest further. at your right thigh, you feel bakugo’s cock hardening, ready for your attention. your hand wraps around it, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot below his tip, and he groans, glaring at how kirishima’s taking up most of your focus. he leans over, and threads his fingers through his hair and tugs him right off your chest.

“oi! d’you want her pussy or her mouth?” kirishima’s face flushes, and he glances towards your pelvis silently.

“get on your hands and knees.” bakugo’s command leaves no room for hesitation, and you do exactly what he tells you. kirishima positions himself on his stomach, and places each of his hands on your ass cheeks. while bakugo gestures for you to open your mouth, kirishima presses his face into your pussy, his tongue dragging up and down your slit and collecting all your wetness. his fingers slip inside you, and your eyes fall shut for a moment when he matches bakugo’s pace.

you moan loudly, wiggling your ass back onto kirishima’s face, your mouth opening for bakugo’s large cock. “take it, princess.” he says, using a rare nickname. he exhales shakily once his tip passes between your lips, and pushes all the way in, smirking when you choke loudly.

slowly, he pistons his cock in and out of your mouth, speeding up when he hears you moan. you gasp around his cock when kirishima laps at your clit, his tongue silky soft against you. “red—! don’t stop.” your plea is muffled on bakugo’s cock, and he snaps his hips into your mouth faster when he hears you. bakugo groans loudly when he looks over your body, making eye contact with kirishima.

kirishima’s hands move from your ass cheeks to your hips, and he tugs you closer to him, licking your clit harder. “…taste so sweet,” he moans softly, and you clench on his fingers, jerking your hips back. the faster you cum, the faster he gets to have his way with you when he fucks you. gasping, your eyes travel from bakugo’s pelvis, up his sculpted body, to his face; his brows are knitted in concentration to not cum, and his jaw is slack from the pleasure.

“gonna cum,” you whine, your voice likely unheard over the sounds of bakugo’s groans and your throat being fucked. kirishima hears you, however, and licks your clit through your orgasm. he rises to his knees, uses his hands to spread your ass cheeks, and while you’re still twitching from cumming, he pushes his tip into you. then he snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding all the way inside you and bottoming out.

you gasp loudly, tears forming in your eyes and you stare into bakugo’s eyes. however, he and kirishima exchange a glance, and kirishima starts to fuck you hard and deep, and bakugo matches his pace. choking, you let out a sob at the way you’re being absolutely pounded from both ends. kirishima slaps your ass hard, and tosses his head back in bliss.

“fuck, i needed this. dynamight, should we cover her in cum or fill her up?”

“fill her up, red,” bakugo groans, desperately fighting off his orgasm, “and fuck her harder, for god’s sake.”

one of kirishima’s hands wanders to the small of your back, and he presses down slightly, keeping the both of you steady. the other hand snakes beneath your belly, and presses hard on your lower stomach, right above your pelvis. then, he slams his hips into you with much more gusto, his sounds reverberating throughout the studio. spit drips from your lips and down your chin, and tears flow freely down your face. kirishima’s thick cock is so deep inside you, and you’re so full of pressure you feel like you might explode. and bakugo — god, his cock’s stuffing your throat to its limit, and all you can think about is how much you need their cum.

you pull back off bakugo’s cock and bury your face in the couch cushions below you, sobbing as you throw your ass back onto kirishima. when you come back up, gasping, you say to both of them, begging, “fill me up and make me yours.” then you put all of your weight on your knees, and lift your arms to wrap them around bakugo’s waist, tugging him and his sexy adonis belt into your face. your mouth opens, welcoming his cock again, and with the change of position, he’s able to pound your mouth deeply enough for your nose to hit his pelvis.

with kirishima’s balls smacking into your clit and his cock pounding you so well, plus the added pressure on your lower belly, you find yourself cumming a second time, bakugo’s cock absorbing your loud, whiny moans. that one orgasm causes some sort of chain reaction — as kirishima fucks you through it, you feel another building, then crescendoing just as quickly as it came. but this one is different than the orgasms that preceded it; it feels so much stronger, and your pussy sounds really wet.

bakugo’s cock tightens and you know he can’t hold it back anymore. “shit, i’m so close.”

kirishima is the loudest of the three of you, his voice shaking and wavering as he registers that the three of you are all about to cum at the same time. “fuckfuckfuck, cumming, cum—”

“‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—”

bakugo cups the back of your head harshly, pushing you into his pelvis as he fills up your mouth with an uncharacteristic whimper that he could care less about quieting. your pussy clenches like a vice, and you squirt, spraying kirishima’s abs and pelvis with your cum. the redhead pushes as deep as he can inside you when he fills you up, and whines as he fucks you through it, his cock screaming with overstimulation. bakugo does the same, overstimulating himself too, and they both collapse towards each other, the three of you knocked out in a pile.

“cut!” iida shouts, and the crew rushes to grab cleanup supplies.

SHŌTŌ.

☆ one of UA studios’ most popular stars, shōtō is the audience’s dream fuck. men and women alike go wild over his simple yet sinful roleplay videos, moans, physique, and gentle yet firm treatment of his co-stars.

“now, we’ve already taken most of the footage for the rest of the film, so the shower scene will wrap this up.” director iida eyes both you and shoto earnestly, then adjusts his glasses. “i’d prefer to shoot this in one take, since it’s the end of the day and i’m sure everyone is raring to clock out.”

“of course, i understand,” you nod, and shoto says, “that’s right.”

“great! you’ve read over the script well, yes?”

the two of you nod silently; director iida quickly rushes over to his chair and snatches the clapperboard from his assistant with a whispered thank you. shoto steps out of the bathroom set, and walks into the living room area. you shed your robe and place it on a hanger, then step into the shower, drawing the curtain closed behind you. then, you turn on the water and wait.

“action!”

having already shot the rest of the footage prior to the shower scene, there’s no need to waste any time. squeezing a bit of softly scented body wash onto your hands, you lather it up until it becomes bubbly, then you rub it all over your torso, making sure to get plenty of suds onto your tits. scanning the shower for your face wash, you groan audibly when you realize it was misplaced elsewhere in your shared apartment.

“sho!” you call loudly, your heart fluttering at the thought of what’s coming next. “could you get my face wash, please?”

you continue washing your body, bubbles sliding from your skin to the floor. you hear faint footsteps in the hallway, then the door opens and shoto says from behind the curtain, “here’s your face wash, it was in the kitchen, by the sink.”

“thank you!” he’s been watching your silhouette move on the other side of the flowery curtain, face visibly warming at the thought of you being completely naked, this close to him. he’s still holding onto the face wash, now looking at your used panties and shorts on the counter. his eyes are honing in on the damp spot in the middle of your panties, the way it looks just a bit too sticky to be regular discharge — you were horny today, weren’t you?

fuck, all he can think about is stealing your panties… wrapping them around his cock and using them to help him jerk off to you. the camera zooms in on his hands when he allows himself to pick up your panties, then on his mouth when he brings them to his lips and licks away your slick.

“sho, my face wash?” you ask, sounding confused. your (fake) roommate tosses the panties down, his cock now rock hard in his sweats.

“right, i’m so sorry.” not thinking straight, he snatches the fabric of the shower curtain and its lining and yanks it to the side, exposing you. you, his pretty little roommate, with suds all over her tits, tiny bubbles caught in the fine hairs at your pelvis (yes, he looked. and for a rather long time). you’re surprised, shock and shyness and embarrassment written all over your face, but you don’t dare to close the shower curtain and kick him out of the bathroom.

after all, you’d hoped something like this would happen.

following the script, he’s the first to look away as he hands you the face wash. the curtain falls from his grasp; you notice the outline of his cock in his sweats, and he acts as though he’s about to walk away, off to jerk his cock somewhere in his room.

“sho,” your tone is flirtatious, yet oh so needy as you set the face wash down and open the curtain further. “if you don’t get the hell in here and fuck me right now, i swear i’ll—”

before you know it, his clothes are in a messy pile on the floor, and his cock is bobbing as he gets into the shower with you. your back hits cool tiles and yet all you feel is warmth when shoto kisses you, your heart starting to race as his pelvis meets yours. shoto pulls you off the tiles and closer into his chest, groaning quietly at your soapy tits and hard nipples.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve needed this,” he chokes out, squeezing your tits in his hand. “how i’ve always been waiting for this.”

so far, the script is halfway through. “oh yeah?” you reply breathlessly, “you’re talkin’ like i haven’t been waiting either.”

“waiting for you to—ah!—fill me up and fuck me u-until i can’t stand.” your body and voice shake as his fingers slip between your thighs, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit and dipping into your soaked slit.

“you’re ready, aren’t you, babygirl?” the nickname rolls off his tongue easily, “prepped yourself before this shower, yes?”

“yes, shoto.”

“what a slut.”

your face burns when you moan involuntarily, hips twisting as he pulls away his fingers. he licks away your wetness, slaps your ass, and whispers heavily, “bend over for me.”

and you do, suds washing off your back since you’re in the stream of the water, both hands planted firmly against the wall. as shoto positions himself behind you, he takes off the shower head; the camera zooms in on your sticky folds, your cunt fluttering at what’s to come. you’d heard privately from some of shoto’s last co-stars, and rumors from all around the studio — his cock was big, and he knew how to use it to make whoever he was with scream. additionally you’d seen the videos online, clips of him stretching out so many women, their screams of pleasure heard in each.

“fuck!” a shockwave of pleasure rushes through you and you register that shoto’s got the shower head aimed at your clit, and the settings are up high. he slaps your ass hard, and your legs spread slightly. grabbing the base of his cock firmly, he guides his tip between your folds, and pushes in gently. you moan, pushing your ass towards him, desperately wanting his full length. “so fucking eager, huh?” he teases, using his free hand to grip your hip firmly; he draws his hips back, then slams all the way inside you, his cock stretching you close to your limits.

you moan sharply, tears burning in your eyes almost immediately. “g-god, you’re perfect,” he hisses, pressing the shower head closer to you, already pounding you hard.

“isn’t this better than taking my panties?” you ask boldly, breathlessly.

“isn’t this better than jerking off in your room, listening to me and my hookups fuck?” he questions you smoothly, and your attitude falls away when the head of his cock slams right into your g-spot.

“oh! r-right there, sho, please.”

“i want to hear you,” he insists, “i want to hear you begging f’me.”

“fuck me hard,” you gasp, tears flowing down your cheeks just as the suds on your tits do. “fuck me, and cum inside me, and u-use me how you want to!”

the script is halfway through, as is the scene, but you don’t want him to stop. the camera zooms in on where you’re connected to him, his cock wet with your stringy slick as he snaps himself in and out of your creamy pussy.

“i will, i will,” he soothes you, his hand slipping and pressing the shower head flush again your clit. with the settings as high as they are, the water proves to be too much, and you find yourself letting out a scream.

“sho—oh! shoto, i’m cumming—”

he fucks you through your orgasm, his head lolling back as he gasps, beginning to struggle to hold his own back. your body shakes as he continues with his ruthless pounding; you feel dizzy when his cock hits the deepest spots inside of you. the shower head is still at your clit, overstimulating you, and even though your pussy is screaming, you don’t remove it.

“fill me up, pleasepleaseplease— i need your cum more than anything else!”

only one orgasm and you’re already feeling dumb on his cock, pussy clenching with desperation as his cock twitches inside you.

shoto pictures the panties outside of the shower that he’d had on his face, taking in your scent and taste. he remembers the times he’d heard you indulging in your own pleasure, messing around with your fingers, hoping that you’d one day be full of cock. his cock. your roommate used to toss and turn in his bed before he’d get out the lotion and open your instagram.

(clips will be edited into the current scene by director iida and the rest of the crew.)

“oh god, fuck— i’m gonna fill you up, and i-i don’t want you to wash it out. i want you to be dripping when you come back and i fuck you again.”

his part of the script is over, and it’s now your turn to nod desperately, then beg him for his cum like a good slut, for the sake of the film— but you’re not acting like he is.

with a deep, gasping groan, shoto unloads inside of you, his cock twitching as he fills you to the brim, some cum leaking out of the sides of your pussy. he collects it on his fingers, and puts the shower head away, then pushes his fingers into your mouth.

“cut! that was excellent, the two of you! we won’t be needing to do another take.” director iida rushes up to you with praises, and shoto fucks into you shallowly, causing you to gasp.

“let’s meet in my office sometime later,” shoto offers with a smile, “to review the footage.”

CHARGEBOLT.

☆ sponsored by many sex toy companies, large and small, UA studios’ chargebolt is recognized by the way he wields his large collection of vibrators! the audience never knows what to expect from him, besides overstimulation of either himself, or his co-star.

after hours, chargebolt—denki, your best friend from UA studios— relaxes with you in your shared apartment and watches movies with you on the couch. occasionally, he’ll start his camboy streams in his bedroom, but he’s usually by himself, until tonight.

as he empties a box of vibrators beside his clothed lap, his phone buzzes as more of his fans join his livestream and leave comments. “guys, slow down,” he whines, struggling to read all the comments; his face changes when he reads a certain comment. “WHAT!? WHO JUST TOLD ME TO BEND OVER AND GET OILED UP??” after a pause, he huffs, “guys, i’m so close to making you all pay to join these lives.”

before denki can start talking to his audience again, the door opens rather loudly and he startles, his body jerking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, eyes moving from his phone and then to his own slowly. your hand finds its place on your hip, and you lean against the door frame, an eyebrow raised.

denki warms, his mouth suddenly dry. “oh.. i’m on a live stream.”

“so you’re a pornstar in the day, and a camboy in the night?” you chuckle ruefully, pushing off the door frame and walking towards him.

“well, yeah,” he forces himself to look away from his phone, and keep himself focused on you, standing over him.

chargeboltsballs — he has a gf ??

therockst4r — YOOO WHO IS SHE

sumumiya — istg if he doesnt fuck her

tipsnwhips — OMG SHE SOUNDS HOT ASF

BBYGIRLLL DONATED $20 AND SAID “invite her on”

“aren’t they curious?” you ask with a giggle, reading some of the comments.

he looks up at you, his face bright red. he can’t believe he’s introducing his camboy audience to his best friend with benefits, that he secretly has a crush on. at this point, you might as well be his girlfriend. “uh,” denki struggles to get over the embarrassment and shyness, “would you mind joining the stream with me?”

“sure,” you sit down cross legged beside him, wearing only a thin pajama top and short shorts. “i’ve actually never been on a stream before, what do we do?”

“we can answer and ask questions, or we can see what people ask of us. i typically do what people ask for donations, or if everyone is in favor of an idea. and there are rules that everyone must follow in here, so nothing bad will be suggested.”

you read a comment, laughing lightly. “no, i’m not his girlfriend. we’re best friends.”

denki notices how easily you laugh it off, and wishes he could find a way to tell you how he really feels. luckily, a commenter comes to the rescue.

Y/NSTITTY DONATED $25 AND SAID “wtf are y’all waiting for?? show us what being fwbs is like! :)”

you and denki scoot away from the camera, and closer to each other — you cup his jaw in your hand and pull him into a smoldering kiss, and he moans desperately, pressing himself closer to you. his hand lands on your back, fingers tugging at the hem of your thin pajama top. meanwhile, your hands insistently yank at the elastic waistband of his sweats.

with half lidded eyes, your lips part, still connected by a thin string of your shared saliva. now on your knees, you quickly rid yourself of your pajama top, and then drag his sweatpants down his legs. you remain in your underwear and shorts; he still has his shirt and boxers.

face hot and chest heaving, you glance towards the phone, which is exploding with comments that are moving far too quickly to read. “what next?” you both ask at the same time, his eyes on your tits.

unanimously, the comments are all asking for him to use his vibrators on you. some request that he tortures you with orgasms, others mention that you should be edged. in your UA studios videos, edging is one of your specialties.

hungrily, you fling yourself into his chest, biting and sucking at his neck. your hands pull his cock free from his boxers, which are wet with precum — he moans against your skin, shaking with need. “gonna torture me, hmm?” sloppily, you rub at his cock, thumb circling the wet head deliciously.

“lay back, babe,” denki finds himself saying, his confident persona back again. “gonna set you up here.”

the comments explode with celebration, excited for what’ll come next. you lay back onto the generous amount of towels he has set up, tugging off your shorts and underwear, ass looking soft and oh so delectable.

denki spreads your legs and spins you from your vertical position to a horizontal one, showing off your wet pussy. with some silky restraints, he secures a wand to your left thigh, the head of the vibrator nudging your clit. he repeats the same with your right thigh, your clit now trapped between two vibrators. in all your time being friends with benefits, he’s never used two vibrators on you at once.

“get on your knees,” he says, his cock bobbing as he stands. with greed that unmatches your excitement in your films or clips, you take his cock into your throat, hands rising to his hips to pull him towards your face. immediately, denki finds himself moaning, one hand tangling in your hair and pushing your head down further; his other hand grasps a small black remote that blinks with light.

chargeboltsballs — damn i’ve never seen her suck dick like that

coconutsss — they have chemistry fr.

“fuck, you f-feel so good,” denki tosses his head back, turning on both vibrators. your hips jerk as he adjusts them to a low-medium setting, the vibrations hitting your clit and flowing through your body like waves.

he tugs you in, your nose pressing into the finely groomed blonde hairs of his pelvis. you moan loudly, your eyes closing as you lean into the sensations of the vibrators. when they open, denki’s looking down at you with a flushed face and eyes full of desire.

you slurp down his cock, developing a fast rhythm so good he bites his cheeks and prays for the strength to hold back his load. he turns up the vibrators, easily switching them to the maximum strength.

you choke on his length, eyes watering as you stare into his own, your hips jerking into thin air. still, you don’t let this newfound pleasure interfere with your cock sucking — you feel his cock tighten a few times, then realize he’s holding himself back.

“let me fuck your throat,” he murmurs, gently pushing you back so you’ll rest on your knees, soaking in more of the sensation from the vibrators. you moan loudly, “c-chargebolt!” even though you really mean to say his name.

smiling faintly, he presses his cock into your open mouth and cups the back of your head roughly. in and out, he fucks into your mouth, his head falling back every time his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around him. between your legs, both vibrators are covered in your slick, dripping onto the floor. your back stiffens when the head of his cock hits a spot that’s extra deep in your throat, and then you can’t take the vibrators any more.

with a desperate whine, you cum hard, your pussy spasming and dripping with more of your juices. tears roll down your cheeks when he keeps fucking your mouth, his pace slowing with a few gasps. the vibrators continue, pushing you through your sensitivity, and you quickly orgasm again, nearly falling onto your back.

denki pulls his cock from your mouth, and instructs you to position yourself in front of the phone. “get on your forearms and knees. i want your face down and your ass up, babe.”

“y-yes!” you agree, reading some of the comments in hopes that they’ll help you ignore the vibrators.

juicybaby6 — he’s so lucky tf!!

grndmsters — wonder how many times she’ll cum… betting 6 times

CHARGEISMYMAN DONATED $10 AND SAID “fuck her brains out bro 🫡”

denki laughs, “will do!” and pushes into your vibrating pussy, groaning loudly at the feeling. you’re so tight around him, so wet and hot — and you’re also vibrating, which feels extra nice on his cock.

“oh, fuck!” you press your face into a towel, nearly squealing when he develops a decent pace, feeling overwhelmed. “i—i’m so sensitive, i don’t think i can take it.”

“don’t worry, babe,” denki coos affectionately, “you’ll be perfectly fine.” after the words leave him, he immediately starts to pound you, hand landing sharply against your ass.

you gasp, pushing your ass closer to his cock, body shaking with effort as you hold yourself up. “i—i’m gonna cum again, please—” you want to beg him to turn off the vibrators, but you feel too fucking good to stop. with a cry, you cum again, statin to sob when the vibrations continue.

denki fucks your puffy pussy mercilessly, groaning loudly. “babe,” he gasps, “i’m gonna —fuck!—cum soon, p-please cum with me!”

just the sounds of his moans have you cumming for a third time. feeling dizzy, you muster out an “mhm, mhm, i’ll try” as the vibrations begin to feel both pleasureful and painful.

crying, you stare right into the phone at your best friend behind you, at how he’s completely unraveling. comments flood in, thirsting over the both of you and how fucked out you look. denki whines loudly, “oh, i’m cumming— with me, cum with me baby!”

a scream rips from your throat as he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim and then some. your fourth orgasm of the night hits you like a train, and all you cry out, “denki!” as your pussy spasms on his cock, feeling a little raw from the vibrators but oh so satisfied. without wasting time, denki rips the tied vibrators from you; they hit the floor loudly, absolutely soaked.

he pulls out for a second and then flips you over and lays you down, pushes back in, and he fucks you until his cum spills out of you, one of his favorite sights. the comments explode with questions and surprise, some pointing out your accidental reveal of denki’s true name during your orgasm.

he slumps on top of you, face buried in your neck, pecking at your sweaty skin gently. “thank you for joining the stream tonight.. i really had a lot of fun.”

“i can only hope i’ll be invited to join more,” you laugh, brushing his hair away from his face.

“are you kidding me? of course!” denki exclaims, nuzzling into your neck now.

the reveal of denki’s name spreads like wildfire online, and you both wake up cuddling to find that you’ve both received angry texts from your managers.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

heyyy I was wondering if you could do pornstar! Logan x pornstar! reader, where they're doing a scene together and Logan's being a little more gentle with her and cooing at her and calling her sweet things because she's so blissed out by him fucking her so good. (the reader hasn't been fucked that good in a while) and it ends with them going out or becoming fwb idk.

this is prob the most explicit I've requested so I totally understand if you don't wanna do it, also feel free to take your time thxx

Omg I LOVED this idea!!! I was so inspired ughhh I want this man so baaaad

You have the perfect performance. Perfectly practiced moans, perfectly practiced expressions. You've got it all down, from the curl of your toes to the elegant arch of your back and the tilt of your head against the pillows.

You expect this new shoot to go the same. The usual age-gap thing, you innocent-looking vixen all-too-willing to let an older man fuck you.

You've never filmed with Logan before, but you've seen him around. And you've seen some of his videos.

At least he's hot and well endowed, you think as the sex scene comes up. The makeup artist fixes your makeup some and then you're sent to lie on the bed.

You can feel Logan's eyes on you as you position yourself on the bed. You glance over at him and he gives you a small grin, as if he knows something you don't.

At first, you're expecting the usual. Men that just fuck you like you're a toy and not caring for your pleasure.

But the moment Logan's hands are on you, you can tell it's going to be different.

His fingers trace your body like he's exploring precious, untouched terrain. Like he sees you.

The way he touches you and the way he looks at you like you're some precious thing has you plenty worked up.

His hand moves between your thighs, his breathing heavy. His fingers spread your folds and he groans, leaning down to lick at your entrance.

You shudder, a small gasp leaving you. You're shocked, amazed, exhilarated. Something about this is different—something about him is different.

You actually enjoy yourself. You don't have to fake anything. Every moan that leaves your lips is coerced by him and his talented tongue and fingers.

By the time the scene moves on to the actual sex, you're soaked and ready for him. And more than that, you're eager.

Logan holds your gaze as he slips his hard cock into you slowly. You gasp, he grunts.

“Fuck. So tight,” he says lowly as he starts thrusting.

He gives slow, long, deep strokes that almost feel like torture. He lets you feel every fucking inch of him with each thrust.

It feels so good that you almost forget about the cameras and the microphones and the crew that's recording and watching.

It feels so good that you allow yourself to get lost in the moment and you just feel it all.

You're moaning, hands grabbing onto his shoulders with a fierce grip as you try your best to remember the script. But no, you're too out of it. So Logan takes over.

“Yeah, baby, I know.” He chuckles as he grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist so he can fuck you deeper. “I know you like my cock in you, you ain't gotta say it.”

You whine, nails digging into his skin. “Fuck!” you squeal, words barely understandable through the mewls of ecstasy you let out.

“Such a good girl, hm? So obedient f’r me.”

You gasp, body trembling.

He smirks. “Can you say my name f’r me, darling? Hm?”

You mumble incoherently, remembering your lines from somewhere deep in your mind. You just can't say them. Literally. He's fucking you dumb.

“C'mon, baby, you can do better than that,” Logan taunts, kissing your neck. “Do better.”

You whimper, gasping, struggling to say the simple word you know he's wanting to hear.

He grabs your leg and moves it from around his waist to rest on his shoulder. He stops fucking you and lets you catch your breath. “Say it, bub.”

You meet his gaze through half-lidded eyes and say, “Daddy.” You're surprised at how hoarse your voice is. How long has he been fucking you for? It feels like it'll never be enough.

“Atta girl.” He grins, his cock twitching in you when he takes in the expression on your face. He starts fucking you again, harder and deeper this time, with more intention.

You're gasping, moaning, blubbering. And Logan fucks you harder.

You can feel that tight coil in your womb as the pleasure grows and spreads and threatens to take you over.

One of Logan's enormous hands comes down on top of your womb and he presses down. “I'm right in here. Can you feel me? Can you feel my cock so deep in this pretty cunt of yours?”

And that's it. That's all it takes for you to come on his cock. Your mind goes blank and you see stars.

Fuck the elegant arch of your back and the carefully practiced curl of your toes. Fuck the expressions you're supposed to make. You lose it. Your orgasm is messy and needy and intense and raw, and you love it.

By the time you come back to, Logan's already pulled out and come on your thighs, as per the script. He's already put on his robe and is drinking some water.

You sit up, body sore and exhausted, and the assistants are quick to help you into your robe and hand you some water.

You're still trying to get your bearings when Logan walks over to you. He smiles down at you as you sit on the edge of the bed and he holds out a piece of paper.

You take it. It has his number on it.

“’f you ever want a proper fuck again, bub, just call me up.”

---

Blog masterlist

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

BEFORE I START

Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.

THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK

btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.

The user is ladonb.kokosa

PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL

That being said. Lets get start with

Part 1 - Next

"Cryostasis ended"

"His vital signs are stable"

"Who could it be?"

"Disinfect the wounds"

"There are no more survivors"

"They authorized us to give him the implant."

The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.

He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.

When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.

She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.

Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.

He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.

Curly: "Linda..."

Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."

The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.

He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.

Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."

He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?

But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.

Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."

She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.

Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."

The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.

Curly: "What about us?"

Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."

Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.

The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.

Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.

Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.

But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.

Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.

Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."

She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.

Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"

Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"

Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 

Curly: "She was 12 back then..."

Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."

When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.

He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.

He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.

Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 

When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 

"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 

Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"

"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."

Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"

"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."

Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."

Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 

"...Lin"

Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."

She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 

"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."

You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 

"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."

You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.

Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 

What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 

"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 

He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 

You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 

Maybe... you weren't so bad.

[arminsumi]

It's no wonder you like him; 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 just has that somethingness about him.

Chipped black nails. A murmuring voice that immediately gains your attention — oh, who are you? He has to smirk to himself, watching how you bat your lashes at him, not knowing that he's just going to reject you like he's rejected every other girl. But oh, honestly, he's just fooling himself. From the moment he meets you, Suguru knows he's screwed. Yes, deep down inside, he knows it immediately.

He's screwed because he bothered himself with you — to ask you about yourself, to ask you for your number. Oh really? You like this? You like that? Tell me more.

The natural sultriness that Suguru radiates has you — what word did he use? Salivating. That's what he wants; for you to salivate for him like he salivates for you.

For the first few months that you know Suguru, it feels like you just can't catch him — because he's always drifting off with his best friend, or doing his own thing.

But really, Suguru's just relishing in the sight of you chasing after him, loving how you follow him like he's your cult leader.

It does something to him.

What works him up even more is when he sees how you you crane your neck to look up at him. He thinks for a moment about crashing his lips down on yours. If only you knew how much discipline he had, how he was restraining himself around you.

Is it only his sultriness that draws people into him? Or is it also that can't be bothered attitude that he wears like a jacket? What else? Well, he's eloquent. He's interesting. Bilingual. Jet black hair up in a tight bun — bangs and strands falling loosely over his face to show that loose part of his personality. Sharp eyes made less intimidating by the babyish cheeks and slightly dipping nose; two features that he has forever wished he could change about himself. Gauge earrings that catch everyone's eye. Always well-dressed. A slight show-off — oh of course, he just has to give you a mouth-watering glimpse of his martial artist physique every now and then, loving how you pretend that you're not trying to get another peek at all the muscles under his baggy white shirt. He's a tease. Something else that Suguru loves teasing you with is how he spreads his legs outrageously wide open whenever he's sitting.

Your comment on his height still lingers in his mind to this day; it's because of this comment and the sore awareness of how much bigger he is than you, that he gradually develops this I'm not too tall to be kissed slouch.

But nothing excites him more than seeing you at a loud party; the overpowering music is his excuse to come super close to your cheek to speak. The slightest grazing across your skin gets him going.

And in the moment he sees something spark in you, he slouches, bends his knees, and presses a nasty little kiss on your lips. It's wet and warm. He tastes your mouth, closes his eyes, sinks into this abyssal ecstasy, and hums in pleasure at the feeling of your tongue slipping in. His bangs rest against your cheek, his chest gets hotter, but then he deliberately pulls away when you whimper.

Just to frustrate you.

"Sorry, you look so good tonight, couldn't help myself." he excuses, acting cool as if he's not holding back from devouring you, as if he's not licking his lips and rubbing them together. "What, do you want more? Well, why don't you climb up here and give me more?"