#please don't assume he's going to like you or your muse at ALL. he's going to be FRIENDLY. because hes a GOOD BUSINESSMAN.

[roosterforme]

This blurb is based on an anonymous request for a birthday treat for @phoenix-rising-starbird-one Happy birthday, Vonny!

Designated Driver (Bob Floyd x Reader)

contains fluff, mentions of drinking, and Bob shooting his shot

The best thing about the Hard Deck was that Bob could walk there from his place. It gave him a few minutes to himself on the way there and on the way home to clear his head. He loved his friends, he really did, but they could be a handful when they had too much to drink. They liked to get a little rowdy, while he rarely drank alcohol at all. At least they never assumed he would drive them home, and they usually just called for an Uber instead while he walked back along the peaceful streets alone.

But the Hard Deck was closed for an extended refurbishment, and everyone insisted on trying a new bar on the other side of Coronado on Friday night. Bob knew what that meant. One look at his new SUV with the extra row of seats, and they would all be bugging him to drive them home. In fact, it started while he was still at work on Friday afternoon.

"Hey, Baby on Board," Jake called when Bob tried to sneak out of the locker room unnoticed. "You mind giving me a ride to and from the bar tonight?"

"Oh!" Javy chimed in. "Me too."

"I'm like two streets away from Javy," Bradley interjected. "Mind getting me on the way?"

Bob sighed but ultimately shook his head. "No, I don't mind. I'll pick you all up."

Three hours later, he was pulling away from the curb in front of Mickey's apartment with all of his friends in tow. Nat was in the front seat navigating for him while Reuben selected which song he wanted for the ten minute drive, and Bob was already looking forward to dropping them all back off and going home later.

The bar left a lot to be desired, especially compared to the Hard Deck, and he immediately felt out of place. He was about to go sit outside when Nat rubbed his arm and said, "Why don't you go grab that empty bar stool? Next to the cute girl?"

He turned to look where his friend was pointing, and a second later, his mouth was hanging open. "She's beautiful," he whispered, and soon his friend was guiding him in your direction where you were perched on a bar stool, reading a book.

"She looks exactly like your type," Nat mused. "She's drinking a bottle of Coke and reading a novel at a bar."

Bob was busy taking in every inch of your pretty face, and the closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. Without another word, Nat shoved him so he bumped into the empty stool next to yours, and you looked up in surprise.

"Sorry," he muttered as his friend vanished. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He was sure his face was bright red, flushed with embarrassment as you saved your spot with your bookmark and smiled at him. "It's okay."

Bob cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I sit here?"

Your smile grew as you shook your head. "Not at all. Maybe if my friends see me talking to you, they'll get off my back about being antisocial. It's not my fault I prefer books over playing darts."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, he said, "Books are way better than darts. I read that one last month."

"Really?" you asked with excitement as he pointed to the spine. "I love this author."

"Me too," he replied, still in awe over you. Then he decided he really had nothing to lose. "If I would have known the most beautiful woman at the bar was bringing a book with her tonight, I'd have brought one, too."

You made a cute little noise ducked your head away from him, and he hoped he hadn't embarrassed you too much. A few seconds later, you looked up at him with a grin and said, "Well, since you didn't, maybe we can just talk instead?"

"I would love that," Bob promised. "Will you let me buy you another drink?"

"Okay, but just a Coke. I'm the designated driver tonight, and I'm not much of a drinker anyway."

Bob laughed as he waved down the bartender and said, "Two Cokes for the designated drivers, please."

"You, too?" you asked him, your smile bright again.

When he nodded in response, he held out his right hand. "I'm Bob, by the way."

Your fingers glided along his, and you told him your name as you shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Bob. I must admit, the last thing I anticipated was meeting a man with good taste in books tonight."

He laughed softly as the bartender dropped off two cold bottles of Coke. "I would have never guessed that the coolest woman here would let me buy her a drink."

You looked very pleased with yourself, and a beat later, you held your hand out again. "Why don't you just go ahead and give me your phone so I can save my number for you?" Bob scrambled to pull it out of his pocket as you added, "Maybe next time we can ditch our friends and the bar and talk about books somewhere quieter?"

"Absolutely," he said with a smile as you saved the number he already couldn't wait to text later.

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

Happy birthday, Vonny! I hope you enjoyed the actual story of how my parents met lol

[inkbybambi]

Breathe You In

summary: dbf!john price shotguns his cigar with you words: 5.2k rating: e warnings: smoking (cigarette/cigar), age gap, shotgunning, pet names and praises (darling, good girl, pretty girl), handjob, blowjob/deepthroating, cunnilingus, fingering, price is a consent king, panty stealing. please let me know if i missed something! notes: oh my god, this is pure filth. as always, minors dni as this work and my blog are 18+. dbf!trope makes my brain go fuzzy. enjoy!

He finds you in the bathroom, blowing smoke out the open window, half-empty pack of cigarettes by your side on the counter you're perched on, lighter tucked inside.

You're frazzled as he opens the door — as is he, assuming no one would be in the bathroom.

It's a habit you picked up from too many nights out with friends. You don't like how it tastes, but it's comforting and familiar and so you seek it out when overwhelmed or nervous.

And you are.

Captain John Price, your dad's best friend since before you were born.

He came over unexpectedly — or, unexpectedly to you, your father seems to have been anticipating him.

He's dressed down in civilian clothes — you've mournfully never been able to see him when he's in his gear — but he looks like a god damn Greek god. He's so fucking attractive, you're convinced it's ruining your life.

Boys have asked you out, here and there. But none of them have that beautiful mustache or eyes that crinkle in the corner when they smile or the ability to look fucking delicious puffing on a cigar.

You want to devour him.

You need to.

"Sorry, love," and you have to suppress the shiver that crawls down your spine at the pet name. "Didn't realize anyone was in here."

He lingers in the doorway, before stepping in and closing the door behind him, going to wash his hands.

"I could've had my panties down," you say back.

Jesus fucking Christ, what's wrong with you?

He seems to be biting back a smile, turning off the water and drying his hands. His eyes catch yours, glittering in the light, darker than before.

"Wouldn't that have been a sight," he muses, pulling a cigar from his coat.

You swallow and shift as you feel arousal leak out, panties growing wetter by the second. You bring the cigarette back to your lips with a shaky hand, barely inhaling before you're coughing out the smoke, tears pricking your eyes at the sting.

He tilts his head as he regards you. You're beginning to feel like prey.

"May I?" he asks, nodding his head towards where the lighter is tucked into the pack, as he slips the tip of the fat cigar between his lips and fuck, you want to see his mouth against your pussy, licking into you and smearing your cum all over his stupid, attractive mustache and —

"S-sure," you squeak, fumbling for the lighter and holding it out to him.

He looks downright predatory as he steps into your space, slotting himself between your slightly parted legs, forcing them open so he stands between them easier.

He's so fucking close.

"Go on, then," he says, a bit muffled, rolling the cigar with his teeth to settle it in the middle of his mouth, dark eyes never leaving yours.

You put the mostly-smoked cigarette between your teeth and use both hands to flick the lighter.

It takes an embarrassing amount of times before you get a steady flame going. A large hand wraps around your wrist as he holds the lighter steady, bringing the tip of the cigar down to light it.

You watch, enchanted, the tip glowing red. He leans back, one of his hands falling to settle on your knee as he uses the other to hold the cigar, taking it out to blow the smoke to the side.

"It's a nasty habit," he says, cigar back in his mouth as he pulls the dying cigarette from your mouth, the butt tinged with your lipstick.

"You're one to talk," you say, slowly and carefully bringing your fingers up to slip through his belt loops, pulling him that much closer.

He moves willingly.

"You ever smoke a cigar?" his voice is deeper, rougher.

You look to him, doe-eyed and glassy, voice soft.

"No, never."

He makes a noise of thought low in his throat and it goes straight to your cunt. If he presses just a bit closer, your hips would be flush together.

His hand — warm and comforting — slides up the base of your throat to hold your jaw, fingers pressing into the hinge.

"Open up, darling," he murmurs. Your mind goes blank, white noise in your ears and static in your head. You immediately open your mouth, and he makes another noise in his throat. It sounds like approval.

"Good girl," he says — purrs — and you know he feels the way you swallow at the pet name, the praise. He crowds in that much closer and you feel the outline of his cock, half-hard, in his pants. You inhale through your nose, fingers tightening in his belt loop.

He inhales the cigar deeply, the tip burning a bright red, orange, yellow, and he pulls away and keeps his mouth sealed. He holds the cigar to the side, as not to burn you with any falling embers, moving to slant his lips over yours. He blows the smoke into your mouth, tongue pressing against yours for only a moment before he's pulling away, closing your mouth.

He nods towards the window after he deems that you've held it for long enough, and you blow out a small trickle of smoke. Heat licks at the base of your spine.

"How's it taste?"

Fuck if you know, too busy remembering the feel of his lips against yours, the way you felt his cock harden as he licked into your mouth. But the taste lingering on your tongue is heady — earthy and spicy and like something you abso-fucking-lutely should not be doing.

"I don't know," you whisper, other hand going to his waist to cling to him, legs tightening around his hips. "Better," you add on, eyes dark and needy as you press into him.

He feels the heat of your cunt through your panties, the way you're sopping into the cotton. You're wearing a dress, one that shows off the tantalizing line of your collarbones, the dip of your sternum to your breasts, a slit in the side that shows a flash of your thigh when you walk.

He wants to fucking destroy you. Sink his teeth into every available inch of your soft, sweet flesh. He wants to make the mark so deep that it bruises for days, possibly scars. He wants to know what your skin tastes like, especially between your thighs. Wants to hear the way you cry and whine and beg for him, and he would give in so easily.

A man of his caliber, steadfast in the chaos of war and operations, thinking on his feet and willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top — he's brought to his knees at the prospect of having you, pressing you into his bed every morning and leaving you pliant and satisfied. The pleasure lingering just long enough to tide you over throughout the day until he gets home and gets to fuck you again, bury himself in your wet heat and watch as his cum spills from your puffy pussy, all slick from his mouth and spend.

He hums in this throat, bringing the cigar back to his lips to do it again. You straighten up that much more, eager as your eyes flit to his mouth, mouth already open in anticipation. He'd laugh at your eagerness if he wasn't so hard.

He moves his hand to wrap around your throat, watching as your eyes darken from the pressure. His mouth is on yours once more. You paw and grip at his shirt, as he moves to cradle the nape of your neck. He tilts your head to the side to seal your mouths together.

All pretense is dropped.

The cigar falls forgotten into the basin of the sink, a growl in John's throat as his free hand goes to your waist, fingers pressing in enough to bruise. He licks deeper into your mouth, your brain going fuzzy from the slick heat of his tongue dragging against yours.

He bites and nips at your lips, soothing it over with his tongue, and you dare to do it back, eyes fluttering open as you capture his bottom lip with your teeth, biting ever-so-slightly.

His eyes are nearly black.

Trailing his mouth down the curve of your jaw, he situates you enough to pull your dress up to bunch around your hips. A pathetic whine leaves your throat as he pushes you away enough to pull the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts to his eager mouth.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he pants against your collar, your head tipping back to give him better access.

You reach for his belt, cock pressing hard against his zipper. An animalistic sound reverberates through him as the clink of his belt echoes through the bathroom, the only other sound buried among sharp, short breaths and groans.

"Darling — " he starts, moving as if to draw your hands away. A noise of protest stops his movement, as he pulls back to look at you, trying to clear his mind enough to talk.

"You don't have to," he says, voice wrecked but so, so soft.

Your fingers continue their path, belt unbuckled, deft movements opening the button and carefully pulling the zipper down over the prominent bulge.

"But i want to," you whisper back. You'd give him anything he wanted, if he asked.

He takes a good, long moment to study you, palms surprisingly soft as they cup your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. The sincerity shines through so clearly in your eyes, bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as your fingers dance around the waistband of his boxers.

You'll stop if he wants you to. You’ve never been with someone who’s cared so much about your comfort, but his eyes  are warm and a smile pulls at his lips, and your heart thumps a little harder between your ribs.

You lean up enough to drag your mouth over his jaw, kissing the tip of his chin, his beard tickling your lips. "Please?"

He swallows hard, exhales through his nose before his fingers thread through your hair and pulls you in for a heated kiss, more teeth and tongue than before.

"Go on, darling," he mumbles against your cheek, and he feels the smile that stretches on your lips as you push his boxers down enough to free his cock. You look down with rapt attention as your fingers curl over his length, thick enough that you can't touch the tips of your fingers together. He's hot in your palm, and he's so fucking big. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you.

"Yeah?" he asks against your jaw, seeing your hand around him. His tip leaks pre-cum, and you drag your hand up to draw your thumb over the slit, watching as it spreads.

"Yeah," you reply, dazed, unable to stop touching him.

He grips your hand to pull you off, chuckling at the pathetic noise you whine out, his name dripping in a tone that makes him ache. He doesn't say anything, and you lock eyes as he laves his tongue in a stripe over your palm, damp as he brings it back to wrap around him.

You pump your hand, adjusting your grip a few times until his breath hitches, burrowing into your neck and grazing his teeth along the column of your throat. You tilt your head to press your lips to the side of his head, gripping him more firmly and starting a rhythm of steady strokes.

"'ve thought about this," he confesses, gripping the counter beneath you. He's trying not to fuck up into your hand.

"Did you get off to it?" you're breathy and dizzy, torn between focusing on how his dick feels in your hand — something you've been wanting for a while now — and the way his mustache and lips feel against your skin. It's awkward, and your rhythm falters here and there, but he isn't complaining.

"Absolutely, I did," he answers, and it thrills you. Pre-cum steadily drips from his slit and gets mixed in with your strokes. It's obscene, the sounds his cock makes as you get him off. He's breathing and groaning right against your ear. You think you could cum from the noises alone.

"Christ," he grits out, teeth more insistent on your jaw. "Doing so well for me, pretty girl. Feels so fucking good."

The praise warms you, making you eager to please, eager to be good.

He drags his mouth from your jaw down to your throat, nipping and licking over the skin until he groans, and you feel his dick pulsing in your palm. He grips your wrist for you to stop. You do, but you tighten your hold on him as well, not willing to let go just yet.

"'m gonna cum, darling, fuck," he growls into your shoulder, trying to gain his composure. It's been so long since anyone touched him, and he's almost desensitized to the way he fucks his own fist. The fact that it's you with your hand wrapped around him, possessive and needy? He's surprised he's lasted this long.

"Mouth?" you ask quietly and he has to blink to clear his vision, pulling back enough to see your eyes, nose brushing yours.

"Hm?"

"Can you cum in my mouth?" you offer again, and he damn near spurts all over you at the suggestion. "Easier to clean up," you rationalize. 

You're not wrong, but god damn.

Price takes in a steadying breath, then pulls back to look at you, face cupped in his hands. Your eyes sparkle, lip caught between your teeth and you blink up at him with glassy, wide eyes. He pulls you in close to kiss you, far softer than anything before. He takes his time licking into your mouth, savoring how you taste — the remnants of the cigar is faint, but it’s there. It isn’t frantic or urgent, and it makes your heart ache. Your free hand rests on the side of his face as you kiss back, trying to convey something you don't quite wish to name.

He drags his lips from yours, smearing them across your cheek and down your jaw, to the sensitive skin behind your ear. He bites gently at the lobe, voice rough and accent thick.

"Right. on your knees, then."

He steps away just enough for you to slip from the counter to the floor, eyes dark as he watches each moment pass, not wanting to miss a single thing.

As you settle on your knees, he tucks a few errant strands of your hair behind your ear, ensuring nothing obscures his view of you. He cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you brace your hands on his thighs, blinking your hazy eyes as you try to focus on his face instead of the way his cock hangs so close from where you pulled him from his boxers. You draw his thumb into your mouth with your tongue, and he presses down, a firm pressure. Your lips close around the digit, gaze never wavering as your tongue swirls around it gently before sucking, his breath catching.

"C'mon darling," he says softly, drawing his thumb from your mouth and spreading the spit clinging to it across your lips. "Don't make me wait too long."

You grip the base of his dick with one hand, taking a moment to lick around the head, gathering the pre-cum that drools from the tip. You dip your head down to lick a broad stripe from the base to the tip, drawing him into your mouth.

He groans low in his chest, one hand bracing on the counter while the other threads back through your hair, gripping on the side of a little too painful, but it feels so fucking good as you open your jaw further to accommodate his size, feeling each inch push into your mouth and to the back of your throat.

"Mind your teeth, love," he notes, voice raspy and hoarse. You take a chance, grazing your teeth lightly on the sides of his cock, and his fingers tighten further.

"Careful," he admonishes, the heat in his eyes licking down your spine. "Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

Fuck, you'll do anything he asks if he continues to call you that.

You pull off his length to lap at the head with small kitten licks, keeping your eyes on him, making sure he's watching when you take him back into the wet heat of your mouth, fingers digging into his thigh more firmly for balance.

You take him as far down your throat as you can manage before you choke, using your hand to pump what doesn't fit in your mouth. You move your mouth up and down his cock, working in time with your hand, each glide coating him in your spit, making it easier to take him.

He can't take his eyes away, pleasure numbing his system, entranced as he sees how good you take him, so eager to please. Your mouth feels divine, the tip nudging the back of your throat, feeling the way you swallow around him.

"That's my girl," he praises as you take more and more of him each time, until you're able to remove your hand entirely and press your nose to the thatch of curls at his base.

"Jesus Christ, look at you, so fuckin' beautiful," he grits out as your throat pulses around him. You choke and sputter, pulling off him entirely, breathing heavily. Your mouth is a mess, spit dripping down your chin, his cock soaking with it.

"Don't hurt yourself," he breathes out, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately.

"I want you to..." but you're too embarrassed to say, never having been in this position before. Never wanting to do it before.

Price is patient, waiting for you to continue.

"Want me to what, pretty girl?" he rumbles when you need more prompting. "Don't be shy," he adds, content with cupping your face and taking in how you fit so nicely in the palm of his hand.

You shift uncomfortably, before your eyes linger on his cock, dripping with your spit and the last remnants of your lipstick. You feel empty without him in your mouth.

"Fuck my throat," you voice, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

He looks proud — why had you been so shy in the first place? — thumb brushing over your cheek. He seems to be debating for a moment, before he squats down to your level, grip firm on your jaw as he draws you in for a filthy kiss before he's standing back up, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips.

"You tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, yeah?" he asks, and the authority in his voice makes heat pool thick in your belly, aching to be filled. You nod, tongue sticking out to taste him.

Before you're able to get your mouth back on him, however, he pulls you away. You whine low in your throat in protest, but his hold is firm.

"Tell me."

"If I need to you to stop," you begin, leisurely stroking his cock — needing to always be touching him — "Then I tap your thigh twice. sir," you add on as an afterthought but he snaps, pushing the head of his dick back in the welcoming heat of your mouth.

"Gonna fuckin' ruin me, I swear," he growls, keeping a firm grip on your hair and waiting for you to drop your jaw, driving into your mouth when you do, slipping deeper with each thrust.

You grasp his thighs, never breaking eye contact. Your eyes water the deeper he gets, but you'd rather cry your mascara off before tapping out.

His thrusts are rhythmic, measured — the sound of him fucking into your mouth bordering on pornographic. He pushes you down further, until you're choking, gagging, tears and saliva spilling down to your chin. Your nails dig in hard, but you don't tap out.

"Oh, fuck," comes his choked-off moan, hips snapping harder, rougher. Pre-cum coats your tongue with each thrust, until he's burying himself fully down your throat, your nose pressed against the base of his cock.

It's wet and messy and you gurgle and cough around him, but you love it. His resolve is cracking.

"I can cum in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?" he checks one last time, shuddering as you only moan in agreement.

He pulls back until the head is resting on your tongue. You open your mouth so he can watch as he jerks the rest of his length quickly, a few more times before he spills against your tongue. Thick streams of his spend coat your tongue. He thrusts weakly as he cums, riding out his orgasm, a frisson of pleasure sparking through him.

He pants as he withdraws his softened cock.

"Show me," he commands, and you obediently open your mouth enough to show him the cum gathered on your tongue, preening at the noise of approval that rumbles deep in his chest.

"Swallow."

You close your mouth to obey, licking the edges of your lips for good measure, before opening your mouth again so he sees.

"Good girl," he rumbles out, swiping your bottom lip before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. "C'mere," he says, reaching for you to pull you up, crowding you against the counter.

You wince as your legs protest, aching with how long you were on your knees, but then you're being sat back on the counter, pulled into Price's warmth as he kisses you again. You grip weakly at his shirt, letting in him relish the taste of himself clinging to your tongue, cradling the back of your neck.

"Such a good girl," he says, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your dress to hook into your panties, dragging them down your legs and over your ankles, stashing them in his pocket.

You'd flush if you weren't so embarrassingly turned on, wondering and wanting to know what he plans on doing with them.

He pushes your dress up over your hips, spreading your legs to expose your glistening, sticky folds — desperate — and drops to his knees.

"Look at you," he says, breath fanning on your thighs, teeth nipping lightly at the skin there. You whimper, one hand on the edge of the counter to keep you steady, the other moving to grab onto his hair, silky and gorgeous and feels so good between your fingers like every other part of him —

You try to focus on him, fucked-out before he's touched you, raising your hips to entice him closer, needing his mouth and tongue. He presses his lips to up closer, stifling a laugh, and you'd make some bratty remark if you weren't so worked up.

He looks at you as he laves his tongue over your slit, drawing up between your folds before circling your clit. Your nails scratch at his scalp, head falling back as your mouth opens in a silent moan, panting out breaths.

John's warm hands grip at your thighs, keeping you still, licking leisurely between your folds and clit, a pleased hum low in his throat that you feel, sparks spreading through your veins.

"J-John," you whine out — soft, so you can't be heard — and his eyes snap to you, focused and determined. "Please," you add, trying to draw him closer with the hand tangled in his hair, feeling like you're going to fall to pieces.

He presses a kiss to your hip, before he buries his mouth in your folds, and you keen. His grip on you tightens, his nails digging in hard enough to leave indents. You can't roll your hips like you want — need — entirely at his mercy as he licks through your folds, occasionally swirling around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

It feels so fucking good, biting your lip hard enough to taste blood to stop yourself from crying and moaning out. You settle for shuddering breaths, blearily blinking down at him, moving your hand to the nape of his neck, keeping him close, delirious with pleasure, never wanting it to end.

His tongue pushes into you and your grip on the counter falters, slipping and falling back, head knocking against the mirror. You whimper for an entirely different reason, pain blossoming where your head hit, and you're almost brought to tears when John pulls his mouth away, standing up and gathering you in his arms.

His lips are shiny with your slick, arousal coating his mustache, eyes blown black. He cradles the back of your head so gently, careful with his touch as he straightens you, tilting your head back to look you over.

You've never been one to pout but you are now, bottom lip out as you grip at his shirt. Your palms are sweaty, but his shirt isn't slick like the counter. You feel like you could cry if he doesn't get back on his knees, finish what he started.

"Y'okay?" he murmurs gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, down your temple, to your cheek, nosing your face to align with his, taking advantage of you pouting by nipping at your bottom lip before easing you into a gentle kiss.

You nod in reply, his free hand skimming up the length of your thigh, the fragments of arousal still swirling through your body.

"Want you to fuck me," comes your shy request. You've no idea why you're shy — his dick was in your mouth minutes ago and he was eating you out like he'd be happy to die between your legs — and yet.

He presents you with his middle and ring finger, pressing them against the seam of your lips.

"Suck."

You're hesitant, if only for a moment, but it's enough of a moment for John.

"Be a good girl, now," in that fucking throaty drawl, and you're helpless, opening your mouth to let him do as he pleases with you. A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as his fingers drag over your tongue, pushing to the back of your throat.

Wrapping one hand around his wrist, you watch him through glassy doe-eyes, swirling your tongue around his thick digits as best you can, swallowing and drawing his fingers deeper.

"There we are, sweetheart," he praises, and he feels your unsteady breath. "Not so hard, hm?"

You want to bite him, whine and whimper and cry until he fucks you with his tongue or even the fingers shoved down your throat or his cock that's sitting half-hard back in his jeans.

But you don't, because you're a good girl.

Strings of spit connect his fingers to your lips as he withdraws them, and he marvels at his drenched fingers. He drops his hand between your legs, circling your clit, causing you to grip at his arm.

"When I fuck you — and I will fuck you — " he starts, voice wrecked and low and addicting, "it's going to be in my bed so I can hear all those pretty sounds you make and fuck you until you're ruined."

H captures your mouth in a filthy kiss as he pushes his fingers in your cunt, buried to the knuckle. You cry into his mouth, his tongue licking against yours, swallowing the sound. His fingers are so thick, stretching you better than any toy you have hidden away in your bedside drawer.

He lets go of your head to lean down onto the counter, crowding into your space further, anchoring him. You pull away from his mouth to wrap your arms tight around his back, fingers gripping at his shirt, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He drags his fingers in and out, making you feel every inch.

Your teeth make home in his shoulder, finding it damn near impossible to stop the noises rising in your throat, little whines and moans, feeling like fire is curling in your belly, sparking hotter and hotter with each thrust.

He hooks his fingers up, easily finding the squishy part inside your cunt that makes you see stars.

"Oh, you like that," he says. Not a question, because you can hear the smug fucking smirk pulling at his lips.

He thrusts his fingers hard, alternating between hitting that spot and pistoning his fingers, dangling you over the edge of an orgasm. You'll never be able to use your own hand again — now that you've had your blood ripped open and devastating pleasure injected into you.

"Such a pretty fucking cunt," he growls against your temple, moving his thumb to press against your clit. "So wet for me, so needy." He switches to hit that spot inside you with each thrust of his fingers, thumb circling around your clit.

"Fuck, John," you pant against his neck, thighs trembling as he draws you closer to your orgasm.

You can't say much more than that, dragging your teeth along the exposed line of his neck, mewling as you damn near drown in the pleasure.

"Want you to soak my fingers, baby, show me how much you need it."

It doesn't take more than a few more thrusts with his fingers deep inside before you're clawing at him, pressing your face to his chest. You try so hard to bite back your moans, but white-hot pleasure shoots through your entire body, vision going black and starry as you gush around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever have by yourself.

The pleasure comes down to simmer, grip loosening, coming back to your senses. He slowly withdraws his fingers from your cunt, your arousal dripping down to his wrist, under the band of his watch.

You watch as he licks the evidence of your orgasm off the back of his hand and between his fingers, before drawing them into his mouth to suck them clean. His eyes never leave yours.

He drags them out as slowly as he dragged them from your cunt, savoring every drop he could get.

You grab for the front of his shirt, boneless and sated, and he comes willingly as you bring him in for a kiss, happily tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes the time to kiss you, softer and softer until you inhale a breath and let it out, body no longer strung tight.

With a kiss to your cheek, he leaves you sitting on the counter as he rifles through the drawers and cabinets until he finds a washcloth, dampening it under the faucet.

Carefully — and so, so gently — he cleans up the sticky mess between your thighs, almost reverent in his touch. He moves to clean his mouth next. He pulls you from the counter after, helping you steady yourself and dress you to look presentable, but keeps your panties tucked in his back pocket.

"You okay?" he checks and you think you're in love with him.

"Perfect," you reply, throat a bit scratchy, nuzzling under the curve of his jaw.

Opening the door, he guides you out first, palm warm on your lower back. He moves to go back out to your parents, while you're determined to crash into a post-orgasm nap.

He pushes your hair back behind your ear, leaning down low enough to murmur, ensuring no one else but you can hear him.

"One of these days, I want to know what my cum tastes like dripping out of your cunt."

He leaves you like that, his signature smirk painted on his lips, turning and walking down the hallway, while you stare at his broad form retreating, wondering how soon you can get him back between your legs.

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Lucifer Morningstar Relationship Headcanons!

A/N: I haven't written for Lucifer before, but this man has my heart and soul so I am going to start! Also, feel free to DM or chat! I love talking and meeting new people, and I need more people to simp with over Lucifer.

Warnings: Minors do not interact, these headcanons include both SFW and NSFW

✶ Lucifer is deeply sentimental, never one to shy away from his feelings. When he is in love, it is all consuming and a driving force for him. He would do anything for those he loves.

✶ He is a gentle lover, a tender lover; a foil to Adam, if you will. When he is in love, he takes it slow, gently drowning you in his affections.

✶ A gift giver? Absolutely! Whether it be handcrafted pieces of art that he made himself or buying you stuff that reminded him of you, he revels in the idea of lavishing you with gifts.

✶ If we are to assume that you are with him after Lilith, expect some slow burn. Not only does Lucifer have to live with the consequences of his decision to bestow free will upon humanity, but the woman he (presumably) loved left him. The guilt he fee is massive, so please just be patient with him. Let him open up to you. Don't make him feel like a burden.

✶ Once he does start to fall in love with you, the first thing he will do is take off his wedding ring. He is a little hesitant, but the way you make him feel...it's refreshing and invigorating.

✶ After years of being too afraid to dream, you rekindled his passion. How could he not fall in love with that?

✶ He loves kissing you - forehead kisses, hand kisses, cheek kisses - he will kiss you until his lips turn violet and melt off.

✶ Although he doesn't acknowledge it often, he has a tendency to be a bit possessive. Not that he is controlling, but more so that he wants to show you off. He wants everyone in hell to know that he pulled the most beautiful and kind person to ever grace the universe.

✶ Some days when he has to go to meetings early in the morning (he is the King after all), he will always make sure to wake you up softly so you know when he is leaving...only to kiss you back to sleep.

✶ Going along with his love of craftsmanship, you become his muse. There will be several different versions of you as a duck, an apple, whatever comes to his mind really.

✶ Lucifer as a whole is a bit eccentric and peculiar, but charming nonetheless. There is a reason why he was able to seduce Lilith and Eve.

✶ If you two pursue a relationship further, you must be able to get along with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's pride and joy, and if you can't get along...well Lucifer would choose his baby over you.

✶ But that's alright because Charlie is very easy to get along with!

✶ He frequently uses pet names such as sweetie and sweetheart, as well as angel and apple pie.

✶ He always calls you the apple of his eye.

✶ NOW TO GET ON TO THE SPICY STUFF >:)

✶ Take one look at that man and tell me he ISN'T a service top. You can't! It's impossible (/j).

✶ Lucifer is desperate to prove himself, to prove his worth, even if he knows you love him. That's why he loves servicing you; he will spend hours pulling you further and further into pleasure.

✶ We all have seen episode eight, we know that he will spend hours between your thighs until you are an overstimulated mess. He gets off on the idea of you relying on the pleasure he gives you and no one else.

✶ It's a pride thing.

✶ His favorite position to have you in is missionary. He just loves to hold you close as he slowly enters you, being able to see how you writhe and become a moaning mess for him.

✶ He also loves to hold you close from behind and pound you (spoon fucking). That's mostly reserved for morning sex though.

✶ Again, he is a deeply sentimental and loving man so he prefers to make love to you than fuck you. But he definitely could fuck you if he wanted to.

✶ His wings have a tendency to poof out right as he is on the verge of coming. Sometimes he wraps them around you, sheltering you in a heavenly cloud.

✶ He has a daddy kink and a breeding kink. No, I will not take any arguments against this.

✶ He just desperately wants to claim you fully, and what better way to do that if not through breeding your pretty pussy.

✶ But really, this man is desperately in love with you. Please let him love you <3

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Don't Look At Me With Those Eyes

Senku x Artist Reader Pt.3

Summary: Senku doesn't seem to understand what it means to be an Artists Muse, specifically yours. (Senku doesn't understand love)

Word Count: 1,355

Tag List: @maria-trisha @xtfhtfrj @markerelll @minimissmelody

I think that is everyone that requested to be tagged! If it didn't work please let me know so I can figure out how to fix it!

HAPPY VALETINE'S DAY!!!!

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

My muses are my love

He couldn’t stop the words chanting in his head. No matter what he did, your voice flooded his thoughts.

My muses are my love

Just the thought of you invaded his mind. He’s been lying awake for the past twenty minutes, trying to fall asleep but to no avail. Every time he found himself closing his eyes, visions of your flustered face appeared.

‘Are you thinking of me’ Senku wondered.

‘Is that what it means to be your muse?’. Was he on your mind as you were on his. He wondered if you were also in the same predicament as him…or maybe you’re drawing? Painting? Were you blowing glass? Or whatever crazy art medium you found yourself exploring…

My muses are my love…

Why did you have to plague his mind? What do you mean about your muses being your love? Why did you look so vulnerable as you said it? More importantly why HIM? Is it as Byakuya said before, “opposites attract”. Is it because he’s so different from you, you find him appealing to be your muse? What is he supposed to do with this information?

Torn and confused about what he needed to do with this newfound information, what the information even meant, and what it meant to him, Senku stepped outside to the balcony and watched the stars.

What does it mean to be an artist’s muse?

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

Something has changed, that much you were aware of. But was Senku aware? Since the day you asked him to be your tutor, something has shifted between the two of you. You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. As far as you were concerned, you treated Senku the same way you have always done…

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t catch the way Senku was staring at you from his desk. Something that he’s been catching himself doing more than he’s meant to. He’s been catching himself staring at you from his desk, in passing at the school halls, even at your home as you studied beside him.

God, I feel like a creep, Senku cringed. It wasn’t your typical space out staring, he’s been watching your expressions, studying your features, getting lost in your eyes…

Wait what!?

He wasn’t sure how long you caught him staring but you were flushed. You quickly averted his gaze and fumbled with your bag and pulled out a sketchbook. The same one he was snooping in. He watched as you begin to scribble your pencil onto the paper…your eyes were shimmering, Senku noted.

Senku was studying you again, and he wasn’t being subtle. Forgetting or ignoring the fact that you caught him just a mere seconds ago. Unfortunately for you his staring didn’t let up for the next few weeks. Every time you cross paths with him, you can see him looking at you. His eyes were softer than what you were used to seeing. His brows still furrowed slightly, but his gaze was gentle as you felt him examining you. Whatever he was doing, you let him. You just assumed he was doing some weird scientific research, and you were his victim.

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

Tutoring you had become a new routine for Senku.  After all the after-school clubs have ended, having cleaned up the lab, Senku met up with you outside of the school’s art studio. He was waiting patiently for you, resting his back against a pillar as he thought of the material, he was going to be tutoring you. After ten minutes had passed, concerned and curious about what keeps you late, he makes his way inside the studio and finds you cleaning up.

“Did you forget the concept of time, airhead?”

“Sorry for keeping you waiting!” you huffed, as you carried a can of paint back to its proper storage. “I lost track of time! I was in the zone. I got new inspiration for my muse!” you laughed.

Muse

The word that’s been haunting Senku’s mind. A word so foreign to him that he doesn’t understand what it means to be someone’s muse. What it means to be your muse.

Senku walked closer to a canvas with a big drape covering the art underneath. He’s assuming it’s yours. It must be. It was the only one out, the only one with cans of paint underneath it. Curious of what you’ve been painting, he begins to lift the edge of the drape. Before he can even process the bits of the painting he can see, he feels your touch on his wrist. He looks at you and he find himself again studying your expression. Studying the look in your eyes.

He doesn’t believe he’s seen this look before. Was it fear of what he was going to find under the drape? Are you embarrassed of what you’ve spent so long painting? Is it the feeling of vulnerability? Showcasing your muse to others but the muse itself.

“It’s not done yet…”, you said softly, almost a whisper to his ears. You watched as he let go of the drape. Hiding your painting.

Hiding your feelings from him.

“What is it?” he asked, as he continued to study you. Watching your expression turned to something he’s been seeing so often. The averted eyes, the flush to your cheeks, the slight stutter to your words. He felt the touch on his wrist fade as he watched you pick up cans of paint from the ground and begin to walk from him.

“…my muse.”

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

Muse…

Muse…

Muse…

Muse…

Muse…

Never has a word frustrated him this much. Seeing the word? The paper suddenly crumbled under his hand. Hearing the word has his eye twitching. A simple four-letter word is haunting him. Teasing him for not understanding. Frustrated that you don’t seem to know the effect the word has on him. Not aware of the feeling he gets when you throw the word around. Not understanding that uneasy feeling in his stomach that seems to get amplified every time he studies you.

“I don’t understand this….” You groaned. You dropped the pencil in your hand as you laid sprawled on your bedroom floor. You waited for Senku’s response. Waited for him to tell you off. You waited for him to call you an airhead. You waited and yet nothing. You turned to look at him and found his eyes already looking back at you. “Senku…”

“Hmm?” he hummed back. His eyes never leave yours.

“Umm…is there a reason why you’ve been…staring...” you asked nervously, unsure what to do under his gaze. You watched as his gaze hardened. Not being able to handle anymore, you finally break away, retreating your eyes to the white ceiling.

“It’s a bad habit.” He replied, as he crawled to the space beside you and laid beside you. You both laid in silence, enjoying the presence of the other. You closed your eyes and listened to Senku’s breathing, until that feeling came back again.

“you’re staring again, aren’t you?” you asked quietly. You were afraid to open your eyes, you don’t think you can handle him being so close to you, his eyes on you…

“Yeah….my eyes bother you that much?” he teased, taking joy as he heard your breath hitch.

“It…flusters me…” you whined, “so stop looking at me with those eyes…”

“What eyes?” he questioned. Has he been staring at you in another way he wasn’t aware? He gets up from beside and crawls over you, he ignores your gasp and looks down at you. Staring at you, studying you, your expressions, your noises. His body hovered over you, his arms caging you in, leaving you nowhere to look at but him. “These eyes?”

He waited for your response, his eyes flickered between your betraying eyes, exposing your vulnerability, and your lips, waiting for your words. Instead, you raise your hand to his face, your fingertips slightly brushing his lips as you cover his eyes with your palm. He feels your body pressed against him as you sit up on your elbows, he can feel the heat radiating off your body. You lean to his ear and whisper, “yeah, those eyes.”

----

A/N: So I'm thinking of breaking away from my original plan of doing only 4 parts to this series. I'm not sure how many parts there will be...I'm also thinking of rewriting the 1st chapter, sort of build more of the frenemies relationship.

Anywayssss can yall guess the song inspo? Theres two! One based on the title and one named dropped. Would you guys be interested in a song playlist for this series?

Mini spoiler for the series?!?! Theres a lyric I want to include in a future part, angst approaching!! Hehehehe

I, I loved you and I still do

Just wanted passion from you

Just wanted what I gave you

I waited and waited

-The Greatest Billie Eilish

....requests open?

[russellsppttemplates]

This drawing is for you (Lando Norris)

Matilda already has her love language, handing out her drawings to people

Note: english is not my first language. Look who showed up, hm? Honestly, the last two weeks have been a bit all over the place and I've been meaning to post way more than what I actually have

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Mummy?", you heard your daughter call for you, walking to her playroom since you assumed that's where she was, "yes, baby?", you made your presence known.

"Can we stop by the stationery shop when we go and pick daddy up from work, please? My colouring pencils are getting too small", she showed you a few examples, the colours you recognised from having a big presence in her drawings belonging to pencils that you were barely able to hold in your hands yourself.

"Of course, Tilly", you smiled, "speaking of which, we have to leave soon. Are you almost finished with your drawing?", you wondered, "yes, mummy, I just need to finish colouring in the sun", she mused, grabbing the tiny yellow pencil and carrying on with her work.

When she finished, she set the pencil down, stopping in the bathroom to wash her hands and heading to the door to meet you, "hold your sleeves", you nudged as she held on the hems while you put on her jacket, not wanting her to let the clothes climb up her arms and be uncomfortable.

"Let's go, mummy!", she cheered, walking downs the stairs into the garage so you could get in the car and drive to the factory.

As you were driving, your husband called, "hello, love! We're already in the car on our way to get you, we're going to stop by the shop to buy some colouring pencils for Tilly so we don't have to wait too long for you", you said, turning on the blinker once you faced the junction.

"Hi daddy!", Matilda spoke loudly, hoping her could hear her like she heard him, "How are my favourite girls today? Actually, I was calling because the meeting ended early and I'm ready whenever you want to pick me up", Lando voiced as you saw your daughter smile from her spot in the back of the car, "you can come with us to the shop, then!", she said excitedly.

"That's a great idea, love! Me and Matilda will go and pick you up first, then! We're ten, maybe fifteen minutes out, depends on how traffic is, it looks okay, though", you muttered, finding it easy so far to drive to the factory.

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you! I love you, girls! Drive safe!", he said before ending the call, Matilda clapping her hands excitedly at the prospect of seeing her father earlier than expected.

By the time you arrived at the factory, Matilda had listed all of the materials she would like to get so her drawings would be pretty. Parking the car, you got out, putting on your coat as you walked to open Matilda's door, "let's go, Matilda!", you smiled, unbuckling her belt and making sure she was cozy and warm to face the cold end of the day temperatures.

Everyone in the factory knew you and your little one, so they would have at you, knowing they would have a difficult time at getting many words out of your little girl, usually a sweet smile, a wave and a small and quiet "hi" before she held onto your legs and hid her face there.

Lando was laughing loudly, so it was easy to know that as soon as you crossed that corner, you'd find your husband along with one of his mechanics and engineers.

Matilda smiled as she saw her daddy, releasing the grip she had on your hand, but keeping them laced until Lando and her locked eyes, "hello, my loves!", Lando said, crouching down so his daughter could finally unlace her hand from yours and run up to him, hugging him and allowing him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek, "Hi, daddy", she whispered in his ear.

Even though there were only two other people beside her parents, she was still shy as they greeted her, "Hello!", they said as she waved, smiling before hiding her face on her father's neck.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Goodbye Y/N, bye-bye Matilda!", they said as they went the opposite direction, you and Lando bidding goodbye whenever you encountered someone until you were in the parking lot, ready to get in the car.

"Do you want to drive?", you asked your husband despite already knowing the answer. He hated not being in control of the situation if he could, so driving his family around was non negotiable most times, only sitting as a passenger when he was very tired.

Buckling Matilda back in her seat and kissing her forehead, you got into the car yourself as your husband drove to the usual shop where you got your daughter's art supplies and your own whenever your work required materials.

"Do you already know what you want to get, babygirl?", Lando asked as the three of you walked inside the shop. It was unusually quiet for this time of the day, and a small part of Matilda was happy because she could go up to the shelves and drawers she already knew had what she needed without having to ask her parents for help in moving along the shop.

After grabbing the supplies she needed, she took them to the young woman at the front so her parents could pay for it, "have a nice day, Matilda! I'm sure your works of art will be beautiful!", she said. You and your family were regular costumers, so they had already grown to know your name and hers, so they had managed to get in the small group of people that were not family and friends and Matilda didn't feel to shy with.

"Bye-bye, have a nice day, too!", she waved sweetly before running up to her daddy, "very good, Matilda, I'm very proud of you for that!", he said, kissing her cheek and walking along with you to the car.

.

The McLaren unit was working on full speed as you arrived, coffees and other drinks being served as guests arrived or workers carried on with their day, you opting to go to the track, along with Matilda, after the initial morning rush so you wouldn't have to deal with too many people at once.

"Do you want to to go to daddy's room or stay here?", you questioned her, "here in the lounge", she replied as you walked to one of the tables near the windows so you could be near the sunlight that had graced the weekend and be a little further away from the buzz.

"Do you want to draw with me, mummy?", she offered once she was comfortably sitting on the chair, taking her pencil case from her backpack along with the blank sheets of paper.

"Sure, love! Let me just text daddy so he knows where we are when he finishes his meeting", you smiled, grabbing your phone to text Lando before setting it down and grabbing the things you needed.

"Are you drawing daddy's car?", Matilda asked sweetly as she took a peek at your work, "I am! Do you think it's pretty?", she nodded, "but not as pretty as yours, I love your butterfly", you complimented.

As she was finishing colouring in the wings, one of the girls from the PR team came to greet you, "Y/N, Matilda! It's been a while since I saw you around!", she cheered, kissing each of your cheeks as you did the same to her before she noticed your daughter looking at her, "hello", she said in her usual quiet tone.

As you spoke with the young woman, your daughter carefully folded the paper and ripped it by the crease she had made so she could separate the small drawing from the rest of the plain paper.

"Alright, girls! I'll see you later!", she said as someone called her name, presumably with a task for her to do.

"You can have this one if you'd like", Matilda spoke, showing her the drawing, "really, babygirl? Thank you so much, I'm so flattered!", she said, accepting it and keeping it safe in her notebook, "I'll keep it here until I can get home and put it in my wall, okay?", she nodded as your little girl blushed at the attention, nodding too.

.

Because the practice session was being used as the scheduled opportunity for the reserve driver to do a few laps on the track, Oscar joined you and Matilda as you looked over the cars on track.

"I need to go to the bathroom. Do you also need to go, Tilly?", you asked your daughter, earning a head shake no, "I'm good, mummy", she said, going back to colouring in.

Excusing yourself after Oscar assured he'd keep her company, Matilda was quick to silently offer her crayons to the Australian man along with her colouring book.

"Where are Lily and Lucas?", she asked for her usual companions for the weekend. They would often be together so you and Lily could catch up while the kids entertained themselves in eachother's company.

"They stayed back home this weekend", Oscar explained, "but they told me they wish they were here. I think they're coming to Silverstone, so we will all be together then", he smiled as she gave him a small smile, too, noddinh in agreement and taking out her new glitter pens.

They start colouring and not saying much, only asking eachother to please hand them a crayon or pen the other couldn't reach or if the drawing looked good. Matilda felt understood by him, so it was no surprise that, besides her family, he was the person she felt the most comfortable with spending time in the paddock.

.

"Where's daddy taking you, little miss?", you asked as you saw Lando change the t-shirt your daughter was wearing. Under her dungarees, she now had an orange McLaren t-shirt, matching her father as he held her on his hip, "we're going to hand in drawings I made, and I didn't want to do it alone, and since you said you were feeling tired, daddy said he would take me", she smiled, kissing your cheek when you got up to kiss your husband's lips and her forehead.

"You sit tight, alright baby?", Lando urged, "me and Tilly want you to be well rested when the time comes to watch the race", he kissed your forehead. You hadn't slept that well the night before, so when Matilda had built her collection of gifts, she didn't want to tire you out more.

Leaving the hospitality, Lando walked with Matilda, asking her where she wanted to go first, "Can we find uncle Seb first? Mummy and I saw him when we arrived, but there were a lot of people near him so we said we'd see him later", she reasoned as Lando quickly searched for the retired German driver, "there he is, love", he pointed, walking in his direction.

Despite her initial confidence, Matilda felt shy as everyone's eyes landed on her and her father, cooing at the sight of them matching and the fact that little Norris had showed up, too.

"Hello, Matilda! How are you?", Sebastian asked, smiling at the duo as she retreated, hiding her face on his neck. Her backpack was open as Lando pulled the art pieces out.

"Didn't you want to give something to Sebastian, gorgeous girl?", Lando encouraged, kissing her cheek sweetly and giving her time.

"The bee one, daddy", Matilda whispered against his neck where she kept hhalf of her face hidden as Lando flickered the drawings, finding the one she meant.

"Is this for me? Thank you, Matilda, this is very nice!", Sebastian said warmly, making he little girl smile at him.

"Who's next?", Lando asked, "Charles, I made a drawing for him with a sea, because he lives in Monaco", she reasoned.

.

"And on the screens now we can see the McLaren garage this afternoon, where Lando Norris has his little one and his wife here this weekend!", Natalie said looking at the screen along with Naomi.

"That's true! Little Matilda has been in the paddock with her parents this whole weekend, and yesterday I had the privilege of seeing the cutest scene! She was hiding behind Lando's legs, but she kept holding some of the drawings until she found the people she wanted to give them to!", Naomi added, "she had one for Sebastian, for Charles, and she also shared some with the McLaren crew, too!

"And when I was interviewing Oscar this morning, Matilda walked closer to us and asked for his help to get the drawing she made of me - I have it right here, let me show you! - and this is the cutest thing ever! I have an orange suit - because of papaya, she said -, and my braids look so good with this glittery accent, see?", she showed Natalie as she nodded, "she's usually a very quiet little one, but she's an artist for sure. She takes after her mummy, so I've heard", she smiled into the camera.

"Yet, this morning, when me and the crew were deciding where to go first, we caught a father-daughter that made our hearts melt, take a look in the screens!", Natalie finished.

"Is it silly, Matilda?", Lando tried, seeing his daughter give him a full belly laugh as he drew a crocodile with rain boots, "crocodiles don't need rain boots, daddy! They can swim and walk all the same!", she giggled, delighting the people who were watching and hearing her laugh. "Well, maybe I should give him some floaties, too! Should I make him pink ones like yours?", he tried, earning another set of giggles out of his little girl.

[roxygen22]

The Beautiful Boy Bus Stop Story was so cute! Would it be too much to ask for a part 2? The interactions between the pair was adorable! Love your stories. :)

Ask and ye shall receive! What do y'all think?

Bus Stop (Part 2)

Catch up on Part 1 here

Ever the gentleman, Nic held the door to the diner open for you. Once he stepped in after you, he scanned the room.

"Wow, it's like straight from a 50's TV show," he mused. Before you could respond, a voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Hey, [Y/N]! Have a seat, honey, and we'll be right with you," one of the servers called.

"Sooooo, do you come here often?" Nic joked as he followed you to your usual booth and sat across from you, facing away from the kitchen.

You shrugged and put on an innocent face. "Sometimes, I get tired of my own cooking." He didn’t need to know [yet] just how domestically challenged you were.

Cheryl, who often waited on you when you stopped by after work, appeared at the end of the table. "I was wondering if I would see you this week! And I see you brought a friend this time." She grinned and winked at you as she set down the menus in front of each of you. "What can I get you two to drink?"

You blushed at her lack of subtlety, hoping Nic wouldn't be put off. "I'll have a Coke."

"I'll just have some water, please," Nic responded politely.

"One water, one Coke, coming right up. I'll give you some time to look over the menu." As she stepped toward the kitchen, Cheryl turned on her heel and waved to get your attention. She pointed at Nic with one hand and signaled a thumbs up with the other. "Nice!" she mouthed.

You dropped your chin to hide the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. Luckily, Nic didn't seem to notice as he browsed the options. Not needing the menu, you took the chance to study his face up close. The way his dark hair curled into perfectly tousled ringlets. The light dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. The small scar just to the left of his no-

Your investigation was cut short when he set down the menu and looked back at you with those gorgeous eyes framed by lush lashes.

"So, uh, do you work downtown? I assumed since you're already on the southbound route when I get on the bus," he inquired.

You shook yourself from your stupor. "Oh, yes, I do. I'm a paralegal at Warner, Fitzgerald, and Associates. But, I'm studying to be a lawyer, though."

"A lawyer, huh? Impressive. How much lo-"

Before he could continue, Cheryl returned and set the drinks down on the table. "Alright, are we ready to order?" Nic gestured for you to speak first.

"I'll just have my usual," you said, handing the menu that you never opened back to her.

"And you, dear?" Cheryl asked, turning to Nic.

"I'll, uh, have the same." He flashed a smile at you before handing over his menu. "Thank you."

After Cheryl turned away, you leaned forward toward him. "You don't even know what my usual is."

Nic shrugged. "Perhaps not, but everything on the menu looked good."

You giggled and sat back. "Well, prepare to be amazed, then." He smiled that gorgeous smile in return that caused you to glitch again. Was there anything not perfect about this guy?

Realizing you were probably all but drooling at this point, you cleared your throat to break the brief awkward silence and regain your composure. "So what about you?"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. An adorable one.

"Sorry. What do you do for work?" you clarified.

"I'm, uh...I'm a writer."

"You don't seem too sure about that, Nic," you teased, but then quickly froze, realizing that he probably wasn't yet ready for your brand of humor. To your relief, he chuckled and clasped his hands on the table.

"I am putting it out into the universe that I will be an accomplished author one day. But in the meantime, I am working downtown at the news station while I am going back to school."

"Back?" you ask curiously.

"Well, I didn't finish the first time due to some, uh, complications. I had to figure some things out about life first."

You could tell by the way Nic cast his eyes down to the table that there was more to the story than could be unpacked at present. Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand on top of his.

"A winding road makes for a much more interesting story than the straight and narrow, Mr. Writer," you replied reassuringly.

Nic glanced up at you and half-smiled before looking down again at your hand. "I suppose you're right." He rotated one palm up to hold yours.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips. ::Is this really happening?:: you thought to yourself. Nic's thumb grazed your knuckles, leaving a trail of fire from his touch. Much to your chagrin, Cheryl cut the moment short by walking up with your plates. Nic cleared his throat and pulled back to make room on the table.

"Here we go," she announced. "Two open-faced cheeseburgers with a fried egg on top and a side of curly fries. Enjoy! I'll check on you again in a bit."

"Wow," Nic exclaimed. "Can't say I've ever had an egg on a burger before."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," you responded before unabashedly taking a huge, ungraceful bite of your own burger, leaving a bit of mustard on the corner of your lip.

"You've, uh, got something right...," he paused to point at his own cheek to demonstrate.

"Oh!" You hurriedly grabbed your napkin to wipe it away, bringing attention to your deep blushing.

Nic laughed. "Hey, it's cool, it's cool! Now, where do I even start with this burger?" He joined the halves and brought it to his mouth, manfully taking a big bite to match yours. He chewed a moment before his face lit up. "Oh man!"

"See?! And you dared doubt me," you teased.

"I vow to never doubt you again." Nic locked eyes with you and blushed with his own admission. He laughed it off, and the two of you continued to chow down, occasionally taking a break to talk about classes, what the other likes to do for fun, and other enjoyable small talk.

Cheryl stopped by to check on you as you both picked at the last of your fries. "Can I get you two anything else? Maybe the usual milkshake?"

"Oh, no, I'm stuffed," you admitted.

"Maybe next time," Nic added as he retrieved his wallet.

::Next time?!:: Your heart raced. Cheryl picked up on it, too, and winked at you again when she returned his card.

Check closed, you and Nic slowly walked out of the diner. "I had fun tonight. Getting asked out on a date was not how I pictured today going, but I'm here for it," he said, hands in his pockets as he walked alongside you down the street toward your place.

"Same. While there was some premeditation on my part," you replied through a laugh, "I didn't dare speculate what would happen after I said hello."

"I'm glad you did. Say hello, I mean."

"Me, too." You slowed to a stop, forcing him to stop and turn back to you. "As much as I don't want this evening to end, this is my street." You jutted your thumb at the street sign at the intersection. "Will I see you on the bus tomorrow?" you asked, hope evident in your tone.

"I have a, uh, standing meeting after class on Wednesdays."

"Oh, right." You visibly deflated. "I forgot today is Tuesday, not Monday. You never get on the bus on my commute home on Wednesdays."

"You notice when I'm not there?" Nic asked in disbelief.

"Always." You smiled as you looked up into his eyes, following his movement as he stepped in closer.

"[Y/N]?" he breathed.

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

<><><><><>

Part 3

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[gracemain919]

(Everyone Needs a Mother): short story

Summary: You are being dragged around by monstrous sisters that think you're their mother.

Tw: Platonic Yandere, cluelessness, slight infantilization

Part 1: A Trap (You don't need it that much to understand this part)

An Apartment

You were stunned, more stunned than the fact you were being carried and manhandled like a whiny toddler. A portal had opened up, and a hand passed through it, urging the both of y'all to enter.

“Sister, is- Is she with you?” A voice whispered through the opening, although quite hard to understand since it was distorted.

“Yes, she is with me,” Martha answered, pushing through the opening as if it were second nature.

“Where are we even going-”

“Shh.” The woman crushed you in between her neck and arm, keeping you still and hopefully quiet. “Azara, get us to Nelith.”

Azara? The name seemed peculiar, you had heard it twice already. Who even was that woman- You felt your heart drop when you suddenly realized you were having a staring contest with the woman herself. You flinched into Martha’s hold while multiple eyes stared back at you, and just as quickly she turned away, covering the multiple orbs on her cheeks.

“Oh, oh. That is her… that is her. I can't…” Azara took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't. Don't look, mom!”

“Come on don't panic.” Martha tried to calm her sister, but she ran off, opening a portal in front of her and leaving you both behind. Dust filled your eyes, the land you were in now becoming far from what you knew. No moon, no light, utter darkness, but you didn't stay there long, soon you were back in a forest when you were carried through the portal.

“Can I ask something and can you please answer… Why are y'all calling me ‘mom’?”

The sun was beginning to rise. Time has suddenly switched from night to day, but Martha carried the same attitude. The same dismissive attitude, until your ride abruptly stopped.

A huge blurry figure could be distinguished in the distance, coming closer with each passing moment. You planted your arm on Martha’s chest trying to raise yourself up and see better, but before you knew it you were already being lowered onto the ground. You didn't know how thankful you were to walk again.

“Martha, I see you have quickened our plan. In quite a barbaric way.”

The voice came from the figure that soon came into view. Hair draped down her form, face mostly covered by loose sticky strands. “Hm…” The woman kneeled to reach your height while taming the strands on her face with her hand allowing you to see empty and blank eye sockets.

“What I did is not barbaric-” Martha complained only to be shushed by the woman—like sisters, both just as dismissive as the other. Nelith inched her hands forward and you instinctively dodged, but a firm push by Martha caused her fingers to grace your face. “How… peculiar. Tell me all. Now.”

“Fine. She is small and looks identical to the youngest of us. Her skin doesn't look like ours, or her hair and eyes…”

You gulped down the irritation that was brewing by the feeling of large fingertips poking at your skin.

“Yes, very small. Yet, that smell. It's hers…” Nelith mused.

“Yeah, I told you. Its her, but what is the next step?”

“Shh…” Nelith lowered her fingers, gracing your shoulders and neck. “You… what is your name?”

You were surprised, finally, someone talking to you directly. You looked up at the woman finding it hard to find the right words by the sight of her tall form. Even kneeled and she still towered over you, not like the other two you have seen. “Y/n?”

You couldn't tell what she was thinking with her non-existent eyes or her sealed lips that resembled a creepy-looking smile as your indicators. “Y/n?” Nelith laughed, lowering her head closer to yours in what you could only assume was amusement. “Such a human name. Oh, it must have been horrible for you here…”

“This place reeks,” Martha added, trailing behind your back getting closer to the other woman. She retracted her touch, moving her hand closer to her sister in curiosity.

Was that your window for an escape? The sight of the large everlasting forest crushed the idea almost instantly. Even if your legs allowed it, you didn't know where you were…

“It's questionable,” Nelith explained, “Although, we found her at least. Any future decisions should be paused. Now, there is one thing that should be done.” Nelith didn't turn toward you, she merely asked between the empty space of the forest, “Where do you live? Here in the forest? In the mountains? In the desert-?”

“In an apartment.”

You could have sworn you shot a gun by the way they both were paralyzed. Martha eyed her sister while the poor woman merely smiled, clenching her hands so tightly you could practically hear the bones crack.

“In those concrete boxes? We didn't believe any woman could live there.”

Nelith ignored Martha, turning toward you with the same expression. “Sounds great…” She practically bit her lips until they bled. “Well, take you there, mother.”

“What?” Martha appeared utterly disgusted by the idea. “We can't fit in those homes!”

“Then shrink!”

The fight made you take a step back, both sisters arguing gave you the impression that you might die in the crossfire. Two unknown beings werent exactly the example for ‘safety’.

“Change your form. Its the least you could do after rushing our plan. You killed my slave, how long do you think I worked to get him to that state?”

“You think I care-” Martha bit her tongue, trailing it through the rows of teeth on her neck. “Fine, fine. I'm sorry. I will… tell the others.”

“Great” You suddenly grew still at the noise, a stiff hand waving through the air as if ‘looking’ for you. “Come on. Let’s get you home”

(This will probably be the last ‘introduction’ post I will do. The rest of the ‘story’ can now be loose and I will focus on the sisters themselves for now or other things. Ps, not very proofread)

[hellsquills]

Dragon!Stan be upon ye

A short thing for @babyblankyerror 's Dragon!Stan AU. Please go check their art because it's infesting my brain /pos

⪻ ⪻ ⨳ ⪼ ⪼

"Hello?"

Ford's voice echoes through the cavern. He hears some small steps in return that turn louder and heavier as they approach, until he sees the familiar –and gigantic– face of his dragon friend. Despite the tightness in his heart, his face relaxes a little as he greets him.

"Good night, my friend. Sorry for disturbing your dreams."

It's way later than he usually visits the creature. These past weeks, Stanford left his house around 5pm and arrived at the cave at 6, trying his best to be punctual, even though time probably means nothing to this dragon. Having this little ritual amongst his otherwise chaotic schedule helps him. Today is already dark out, not pitch-black, but enough to make the path slightly dangerous.

The beast approaches slowly, looking somewhat sleepy, and lowers its head so Stanford can pet it. It is then, as they are eye-to-eye, that the dragon stops and tilts its head.

"What? What is it?"

The creature moves its head forward, brushing its snout against the man's cheek. Ford is taken aback, shocked by the delicate and understanding move.

"This? Those are just tears, don't worry about it."

The dragon huffs like an exasperated child, as if implying that it doesn't believe a word he's saying. Stanford sighs.

"I guess I can't fool you, huh?" Another huff. "I suppose that you're even smarter than I assumed. Which, rest assured, was already a lot."

The beast turns around and lies down in the middle of the cave, much closer to the entrance than it previously was before Ford arrived. The man walks to it, accepting its silent invitation. He lies down next to its chest, which is soft and warm with all the fur covering it. He nestles against it, making a spot for himself, just like many other times before.

"I... haven't had the best of days, I'm afraid."

The dragon's head is now resting on the floor beside him, its right eye looking straight through him. As uncomfortable as he is around people staring at him, this barely bothers him. The dragon's eyes are kind, attentive, so different from all the others he's used to have on him. Something in those colors fills him with a sense of safety that helps him breathe easier. It also helps with pulling out the words from his throat.

"I had... an argument with my Muse. Which wasn't his fault, really! It was all mine. I didn't... expect him to be this angry, though." The sentence ends just as quiet as it starts. "I simply mentioned that I needed some rest during the night, that I couldn't properly carry on with my research unless I got a full night's rest, but he didn't like it. He said I was being selfish." Ford's words are slow, as if working out a way to properly covey what he means. "I understand where he's coming from, I really do. He just wants to escape his dimension– the Nightmare Dimension, he calls it. Obviously the name is already enough of a hint, but above all... I know he wanted to escape before that. No one understood him back there. I know what that's like. To be in a place where you're not welcome, nor wanted, nor understood. I really do."

The dragon doesn't move, just blinks lazily. Ford continues.

"I just asked him for a full night without him entering my mindscape and using my body to work while I slept. He says any human should be able to withstand it, so maybe I'm just weaker than average, which I already knew, but regardless. I needed some time to rest not only my body, but my mind as well. He... didn't like it. We argued, I tried to explain it to him in a way he could understand, but he was so mad... I ended up relenting, but he said it was too late. Now he couldn't forgive me. He said that... if I really wanted him gone that much, then he'd leave. And he... he did."

Ford's voice faults as he utters those last words. Nonetheless, he keeps talking.

"I didn't mean to upset him, I swear I didn't. I just wanted some time to improve myself before I kept working on the portal, but... Moses, what have I done? What if he doesn't forgive me? What if he never comes back?" His shaky voice now warns new tears. "I guess that's what I deserve for failing to keep my promise. I told him I'd do anything in my power to help him, since he's spent his entire time in this dimension helping me discover the universe. And what do I give in return? Just utter weakness."

"I don't deserve him. I don't deserve the people that cared enough to get close to me. Not Bill, not Fiddleford, not..."

The sentence cuts early, leaving things unsaid.

"What am I going to do now? I have no one else, I'm alone. I..." A shaky breath, way too close to a sob for comfort. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

The dragon is quick to react, as if it had been waiting for him to finish. Carefully, it lifts its head and puts it on Ford's lap. Noticing the man's quick heartbeat, it moves it up, until it's resting on Ford's chest. They both lay there, Stanford feeling lightheaded from his sudden panic attack and the accumulated anxiety. However, the slight but grounding pressure against his chest is comfortable, calming, and it helps him breathe despite the weight directly on top of his lungs. His hands absentmindedly envelop the creature's head, hugging it lightly at first and then tighter when he's sure the other being is comfortable with the action. Through the warmth, he can feel another sensation: the dragon appears to be... purring? Not exactly, but something akin. It's definitely vibrating softly as it breathes slowly in what seems a calculated rhythm, although that would be impossible for the creature to understand.

A memory hits Stanford as he keeps his eyes closed: the same weight on top of his torso after a panic attack. The familiar sensation of those soft vibrations against his chest, much less like an animal and much more like quiet snoring. A slow, even breathing rhythm in contrast to his agitated one.

His brother, having yet again braved his fear of heights to lay on him when he had a paralyzing nightmare. A head full of curls as unruly as the boy they belonged to beneath his fingers, now replaced by hard scales.

"Lee..." Stanford cries, not even processing his own words. He repeats it once, twice, thrice, as the sobs grow too loud to continue. The creature above him shakes slightly before returning to its previous position.

Both beings stay still in silence, save by Ford repeating several variations of his brother's name, as well as the occasional "help", "I can't", and "I'm sorry". This last one is the quietest, as if the man had a split second of clarity and realized he did not want to say it any louder.

Eventually, exhausted by the rush of emotions, Stanford falls asleep. His cheeks are damp and his face is red, but he seems more peaceful as he evens his breathing, holding the dragon's head more delicately now.

Somewhere inside the creature's head, Stan is filled with a rage that burns hotter than the flames that sometimes escape his throat. As much as he'd like to shape-shift into his humanoid form, he can't. Not until whoever that Bill thing is is shattered into a million pieces by his own hand.

[chishiyasdearjacket]

HII! Can you pretty please write a Kuina x reader x chishiya, sorry if this sounds weird I just wanted see how it would be like??? But I just CANT write request without making it seem dry😭😭

Hey yeah, sure i don't really take requests but i want to try doing the three of them, i dont know if its romance or more like bickering friends you want but yeah i made my own HAHAHA

Third-Wheeling Myself

Kuina x reader x chishiya oneshot

The Beach was a lawless paradise—a haven for the desperate and the lucky, where survival meant alliances, strategy, and sometimes just pure dumb luck. You had somehow found yourself lodged between two of the most peculiar personalities in this dystopian resort: Kuina and Chishiya.

It all started with an argument. As usual.

“Why are you following us?” Kuina asked, raising an eyebrow as she flicked her lighter open and shut.

“I’m not following you,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I just happen to always be where you two are.”

“Sounds like stalking.” Chishiya deadpanned, not even looking up from the book he was pretending to read.

“Sounds like you both need new hobbies,” you shot back.

Kuina snickered and elbowed Chishiya. “She’s got a point.”

Chishiya didn’t react beyond a slow blink, flipping a page despite the fact that it had been upside down the entire time. “I do have hobbies. Psychological warfare, for example.”

“Yeah, and you’re bad at it,” you grumbled. “Kuina sees through your bull, and I’m immune to your little cryptic stares.”

“Oh?” Chishiya’s lips curled up slightly. “Then why are you getting worked up?”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but Kuina clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Let it go. He feeds off arguments like a vampire.”

“A vampire with a god complex,” you muttered.

Chishiya hummed. “Flattering.”

You groaned and threw yourself onto the nearest sunbed. “How did I get stuck with you two?”

“You didn’t get stuck with us.” Kuina plopped onto the sand next to you, smirking. “You just won the lottery.”

“Some prize,” you mumbled, covering your face with your arm.

For all the bickering, the three of you somehow always ended up together—sitting at the bar, dodging the lunatics in power, or huddling up on cold nights. It was a strange dynamic, like an odd dysfunctional trio where Chishiya remained insufferably smug, Kuina was the playful instigator, and you were just trying not to lose your sanity.

A Game of Survival

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the speakers crackled to life, announcing a new game. Against better judgment, the three of you decided to participate together.

The rules were simple—get to the end of the maze before time ran out. The catch? The maze changed constantly, closing off paths and opening new ones at random. Oh, and there were other players who wouldn’t hesitate to take you out if it increased their chances of winning.

“Okay, stick together,” Kuina said, rolling her shoulders. “If we get separated, we meet back at the center.”

“You assume I’ll get separated,” Chishiya mused. “I don’t make mistakes.”

“You nearly got stabbed last week,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he said smoothly, “but I didn’t.”

Before you could argue further, the siren blared, and the game began.

The three of you bolted into the maze, taking quick turns and trying to stay ahead of the shifting walls. At first, things seemed manageable. But, because life hated you, a section of the maze suddenly closed between you and them.

“Well, that’s just perfect,” you muttered, turning to face two players who looked all too eager to get rid of you.

Kuina & Chishiya: The Rescue Team

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, Kuina and Chishiya exchanged glances.

“Think she’ll survive?” Kuina asked casually.

Chishiya tilted his head. “Depends on how much she’s been paying attention.”

Kuina cracked her knuckles. “Guess we better go get her.”

Back on your side, you barely dodged a wild swing from one of the players, ducking just in time to avoid getting clocked in the head.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly. “We can talk about this, right?”

The taller of the two men smirked. “No.”

Fantastic.

Just as he lunged again, a sudden crash echoed through the air, and the wall to your left caved in. Out of the dust emerged Kuina, grinning as she launched herself at one of your attackers, knocking him down with a well-placed kick.

Chishiya strolled in behind her, hands in his pockets. “I see you were struggling.”

“I was handling it,” you huffed.

Chishiya’s lips twitched. “Sure.”

With Kuina’s help, the fight was over quickly, and the three of you took off through the maze again, barely making it out before time ran out.

A Moment of Peace

After the game, the three of you sat outside, catching your breath. The night was cooler, and for once, there was no immediate danger looming over you.

“You guys would be so boring without me,” you mused.

Chishiya scoffed. “I’d be more efficient without you, actually.”

Kuina grinned. “Nah, I think we’d both be miserable.”

You blinked at her. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I mean, you’re kinda fun to mess with.”

Chishiya gave an almost imperceptible nod. “And occasionally useful.”

That was the closest thing to affection you were going to get from them.

You sighed dramatically. “Wow, I’m so moved.”

Kuina laughed and slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Relax, we like you.”

Chishiya glanced at you, then smirked. “We tolerate you.”

You scowled. “So, you both secretly adore me but can’t admit it?”

Kuina chuckled. “Something like that.”

Chishiya just gave a small shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you enough.

Maybe, just maybe, being stuck with them wasn’t the worst thing after all.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Falling for the Dream Demon

@adambrainrot I blame you lol I hope you like it.

-

Adam had always been brilliant, Lilith knew that her brother was going to do great things one day like find life on another planet or find the cure to cancer. She was always in awe of him when he would speak with such high intelligence that sometimes she got lost in what he was actually saying.

They were twins, bound together by blood and have always been close. She always looked out for her nerdy little brother and wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

Except, as they got older, she was the one to hurt him. Not physically, but when they were in senior year of high school together Adam was being offered scholarships left and right from schools all around the country and the one he wanted the most would take him over seas.

Lilith let her jealousy get the best of her and ruined his chances by messing with his project.

Adam, being the genius he was knew it was her.

It wrecked their relationship and he never forgave her.

Adam slammed his car door shut and stomped away to get into the driver's seat.

"Adam come on, I said I was sorry" Lilith was leaning on his car and he all but pushed her away.

Adam glared at her "I don't care about you watered down apology, Lilith, do you have any idea what your childish tomfoolery has cost me?"

She didn't understand why he had to talk like he was 80. "You still got into your second choice! That's good right?"

Adam got into his car and gripped the steering wheel, his 12 fingers nearly turning white from the amount of rage he felt. "You just don't get it and you never will." He's never held his sisters lack of intellect against her, not everyone could be a genius like him, but in this moment he couldn't believe how stupid she was.

Lilith felt her chest get tight, she didn't like this. "Addie please......"

"No, I'm going to follow my dream and no one, not even you will stop me." He's already said goodbye to their mother and father. He doesn't need to be here anymore.

Before she could say another word Adam sped off into the distance, leaving his old life behind.

-

As the years went by Adam got three PhDs and a doctorate, he wanted to major in the anomalies of the world and there seemed to be a huge influx of them in this place named Gravity Falls.

He bought a cabin in the woods to live in and work in.

That's where he met the woman that would help him with his study, Dr. Eve Gardener.

Adam decided to keep a log of journals to keep track of everything he found. He's always been different with no one understanding him.

But being a genius and having someone who's brilliant to help him can only get him so far. He's hit a dead end in where everything comes from.

"What can I do?" Adam mused to himself as he tapped the pen on his journal. So far him and Eve have only found gnomes that talk and throw up rainbows.

He decided to go to the library to find anything that might help him. That's when he came across a book on demons.

Dream demons.

-

Adam had everything set up, maybe he was desperate and wanted to make things work so badly and obtain materials for his research.

Adam took a deep breath, "No turning back now." He spoke the spell that made the pentagram on the floor glow a bright red. From the glow stood a man in a white suit and top hat, short in height but that didn't matter. His face shrouded in mystery from the shadow of the brim of his hat concealing his face. When he looked up his eyes were red and yellow glowing brightly.

"Well hello there.~" The demon spoke smoothly, his voice deep. "And who might you be?"

Adam couldn't believe this actually worked. "My name is Dr. Adam Kadmon, I...... Who are you?"

"The name is Lucifer Morningstar! At your service handsome! Now, I assume you've brought me here for a reason?" Lucifer grinned and tipped his hat to Adam, winking.

Oh, so the demon is a flirt. Wonderful. Adam felt his smoldering gaze on him, it was intense and he..... Weirdly didn't hate it.

"I'm doing research about Gravity Falls and..... I've come to a bit of a stand still." Adam set the book down never taking his eyes off the demon.

Lucifer smiled so wide, showing off all of his pearly white sharp teeth. "Oh of course! I can help you with anything, whatever your heart desires I can give it to you Adam. You want to be rich, have great power, or even unlock the secrets of the universe I can give it to you! But, you have to give me something in return."

"Oh?"

"Yes! You can't get something for nothing you know.~" Lucifer practically purred, he leaned on his cain as he looked the human up and down.

Adam shifted on his feet, if this demon was telling the truth then anything would be worth it. "What would you want?"

Lucifer hummed, "All I ask, is that you let me into your mind, body, and soul.~"

"My s-soul?" That..... Sounds like a huge deal.

"Yes! How else am I going to be able to supply you with everything you need and secure everything you've ever wanted?~ I'm not asking you to give it to me, not completely. What do you say? We have a deal?~"

Lucifer held out his hand, it was gloves in leather and erupted in a red flame.

Everything Adam ever wanted was being given to him on a silver platter and even though he shouldn't he wanted it more. It could be years before he makes a breakthrough and he didn't want to waste his time chasing his tail.

Adam gripped Lucifer's hand, surprised that it didn't hurt when the flame surrounded his as well. He yelped when Lucifer pulled him in and dipped him.

Lucifer was smiling but it was far from innocent. "All demon deals are sealed with a kiss.~" He captured Adam's lips in a kiss, the scientist felt like his face was a flame and his heart started to pound in his chest.

He liked it, but why?

-

Lucifer kept his word and helped Adam discover all the secrets and knowledge that he was promised.

Adam recorded everything in his journal and it got to be to the point where he ended up with three of them he learned so much.

-

"You didn't forget your end of the deal did you Adam?"

"Of course not Luci."

Those nights that they had grown closer and had partaken in sins of the flesh. He let Lucifer ravish his mind and body anyway he wanted.

He never wanted to let his demon go.

-

Lucifer wants him to build a portal, he didn't see a problem with it. Surely Eve will love to help him.

-

"Eve!?" Adam cried out, he had secured himself to the floor with rope. Eve didn't get the chance as the portal turned on and nearly sucked her in, her foot caught on rope.

She screamed at everything she saw on the other side. Adam pulled her back and turned it off.

Eve was shaking and talking backwards? "Eve?" He reached out for her and she screamed.

"You have to destroy that thing! It's not safe!"

"What!? But it's my life work!"

Eve looked behind Adam and saw Lucifer standing there and her blood ran cold. She couldn't do this anymore!! "I'm sorry Adam! I-I-I can't do this!" She got up and ran out, Adam called for her but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

-

Lilith made the journey to Adam's cabin in the snow. She had to see her brother. Knowing on the door Adam answered shocked to see his sister of all people. "Why are you here?"

"..... Mom died."

That got her in the door to stay for the night, Adam cried for the loss of their mom. But that didn't mean everything was smooth sailing between them.

But still, he showed her his work.

In the basement she marveled at the portal. "What's the big red button do?"

Adam's eyes went wide, "Lilith don't!"

But she hit the button, ever curious. The portal turned on and it sucked Adam inside.

"ADAM!!!"

The portal malfunctioned and black smoke came from it turning it off nearly exploding it. Lilith stared in disbelief, what the fuck had she just done?

-

Adam looked around panicked, he had never been in here before and he didn't know if he could leave.

A gloved hand gripped his chin and Lucifer smiled at him. "Welcome home darling.~"

[inspirationalucky]

EPIC: THE ITHACA SAGA PROMPTS & STARTERS.

of course, go ahead and change names/pronouns/words/etc as necessary to fit your muse or the situation! please do not add more lines/prompts to this post!

The Challenge

"I'm supposed to choose a suitor."

"They don't know that every night I unthread all the work I've done."

"I'd rather lie than allow them to think they've won."

"I never thought that I'd resort to this."

"I don't know much longer I'll last"

"Could it be some kind of sign that my world is all about to change?"

"Is it finally time for the challenge I arranged?"

"Though I never thought that it would come to this, just know I'll be here buying you time."

"Time is fleeting, it's running out."

"Time to be the man of the house."

"Let the arrow fly once you know that your aim is true."

"I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you."

"Though I never thought that this would be the lengths we go for love, I would not have it any other way."

"Though I never thought that it would end like this, just know I'll be here waiting."

Hold Them Down

"Screw this competition. We've been here for hours."

"No more delays."

"Can't you guys see we're being played?"

"This is how they hold us down while we slowly age."

"Where in the hell is our pride and our rage?"

"Here and now there's a chance for action."

"We can take control."

"Burn it down to ashes!"

"Channel the fire inside your soul!"

"Haven't you noticed who's missing?"

"I heard today he comes back to town."

"I say we wait 'till he arrives."

"When he docks his ship we can breach it."

"Let us leave now, today we can strike"

"Hold him down while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones."

"Cut him down into tiny pieces."

"When the crown wonders where the prince is, only the ocean and I will know."

Odysseus

"For twenty years I've suffered every punishment and pain."

"I come back and find my palace desecrated, sacked like Troy!"

"I... have had... enough."

"Somewhere in the shadows lurks an agile, deadly foe"

"We have the advantage! We've the numbers and the might."

"You don't understand it, this man plans for every fight!"

"Keep your head down! He's aiming for the torches!"

"Our weapons... they're missing!"

"He's using the darkness to hide his approaches."

"We're empty-handed, up against an archer."

"Our only chance is to strike him in the darkness."

"We know these halls! The odds can be tilted!"

"You think I don't know my own palace? I built it!"

"You've destroyed the serpent's head. Now the rest of us are no longer a threat!"

"Forgive us instead so that no more blood is shed."

"Let's have open arms instead!"

"Damn, he's more cunning than I assumed."

"While we were busy plotting, he hid our weapons inside this room."

"I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings left his armory unlocked."

"Now that we have armed ourselves, let's make the bastard rot."

"Throw down those weapons and I ensure you'll be spared."

"After seeing what the King will do to us? We wouldn't dare."

"I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I've come prepared."

"Your very presence has doomed the king, young prince. We don't fight fair."

"We've got company, and he's made a grave mistake!"

"There's a chance for us to win."

"We can still defeat the King if we all attack the Prince!"

"Capture him! He's our greatest chance."

"Make the King obey our command, and if he won't I'll break the kid's hands."

"Mercy? Mercy!?"

"My mercy has long since drowned. It died to bring me home."

"As long as you're around, my family's fate is left unknown."

"You plotted to kill my son!"

"All of you are going to die!"

"You have filled my heart with hate."

"All of you who have done me wrong? This will be your fate!"

I Can't Help But Wonder

"All my life, I'd have died to meet you."

"I thought about your name so much it hurts."

"For twenty years, I dreamt of how I'd greet you."

"Now you're here, and I can't find the words."

"All my life, I'd have died to know you."

"I never could outgrow you."

"I can't help but wonder what your world must be."

"All this time I've wondered if you'd embrace me as your own."

"For so long I've felt alone."

"Look how much you've grown!"

"Oh, my boy, sweetest joy I've known"

"Twenty years ago, I held you in my arms."

"Oh, how time has flown."

"I used to say I'd capture wind and sky for you."

"I held you in my arms, prepared to die for you."

"I can only wonder what your world has been."

"All I've ever wanted was to reunite with my own."

"For twenty years we've wandered, but today you're not alone."

"I'm finally home!"

"You were never one for hellos."

"I can't help but wonder what this world could be if we all held each other with a bit more empathy."

"I can't help but feel like I led you astray."

"What if there's a world where we don't have to live this way?"

"If that world exists it's far away from here. It's one I'll have to miss."

"I've got one endeavor: there's a girl I have to see"

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?

"Is it you? Have my prayers been answered?"

"Is it really you standing there, or am I dreaming once more?"

"You look different... your eyes look tired."

"Your frame is lighter, and your smile torn."

"Is it really you, my love?"

"I am not the man you fell in love with."

"I am not your kind and gentle husband, and I am not the love you knew before."

"Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?"

"Would you love me all the same?"

"I know that you've been waiting for love."

"What kind of things did you do?"

"I hurt more lives than I can count on my hands, but all of that was to bring me back to you."

"I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat."

"Do you realize what you have asked me?"

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him you!"

"I will fall in love with you over and over again."

"I don't care how, where, or when. No matter how long it's been, you're mine."

"Don't tell me you're not the same person!"

"You're always my husband, and I've been waiting for you."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

One (☝️) freebie plz. For whatever verse your heart desires (or a new one if you have an idea)

"You never have cash," Vanessa mused, watching you pay for a couple pairs of new pants and a new dress with now straightened out bills.

"Not usually," You hum, "Logan handed it to me this morning and told me to do something with it- I'm assuming that was his not-so-subtle way of telling me he can hear me struggling with my jeans in the morning."

She snorted, "Not like I want to give him credit, but he probably didn't notice. Or he's too distracted by your boobs. He probably just knows there's stuff you want to buy and haven't yet."

"Probably," you take the bag and your change, "I just don't even know where to start."

"Not telling your mother," she recommended, pulling you towards a stand that sold smoothies. "God I'm thirsty, my treat. Can't let you get scurvy or something."

"As long as it doesn't have bananas in it," you say, crinkling your nose. "Ugh."

"I told Wade NOT to bring the banana bread," she laughed, "I don't think he really believed that you were gonna puke."

"Well- he found out." You lean your head on her shoulder and look at the menu, "The peach one sounds good."

"And hopefully won't make you puke."

"Peaches are fine. As long as they aren't canned."

____________

Logan let himself into your apartment cautiously. Feeling better now that he was clean and in clean clothes. Construction was hot, dirty work, but it paid. And that was important.

There were some new baby things, carefully put away in the corner where you'd been putting them until you could organize it all and he could smell something beef based and savory cooking in your crockpot. But it was quiet.

It made him feel weird as he walked across the floor.

But then he peered over the sofa and smiled a little. You were snuggled into a blanket and asleep. Trigger eyed him warily and Logan pressed a finger to his lips as he walked around the sofa and knelt to kiss the side of your head. "Hey, Princess," he murmured, stroking your arm.

"Hm?"

"Tired today, huh?"

"Wasn't even trying to go to sleep. Just settled down to watch a show," you tell him, yawning. "Was waiting to hear back on some stuff."

He smiled a little and stroked your hair, "Must've needed the sleep, just didn't want to scare you poking around in the kitchen."

"It's beef stew. There's bread in the oven and I made brownies," you hum, stretching.

"No wonder you needed a nap," he chuckled.

"Brownies just sounded good. And it's cold out today. Figured you were tired of Wade's chicken experiments and would probably want something hot."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said, feeling himself blush. You thought about him? He didn't think you poisoned it either. "Kid's got a sweet tooth, huh?"

"At least I know they like brownies. And not banana anything."

Logan snorted, "I owe them a pony on their 5th birthday for making you throw up on Wade when he shoved that bread in your face."

"I couldn't even stop it-"

"Better than it comin' out your nose. And I bet he won't just shove shit in your face again."

"There is that." You sit up slowly and rub your eyes, "If you gimme a second I'll make some plates and-"

"Just stay there," Logan said, "I'll get it. Do you want water or-"

"Ice tea, please."

"And a brownie."

"Or like 2. Two is good."

[bitterfishiesstuff]

Let's see if tumblr takes this down lol

Angel/demon au that was inspired by @letshareapapou (let me know if you don't want me tagging your every time I give credit. It's the easiest way I now of to link people to you).

Ficlet and greyscale ver under the cut

Tech frowned as he felt one of the souls tied to his church falter.

Sometimes it felt hopeless, the very human cycle of seeking redemption and falling back into temptation. A cycle as old as they existed.

What right did a demon have to preach of faith and love, when he'd fallen from grace for questioning and a supposed lack of emotion? Was he leading his small flock of wayward souls even further from finding their own paths? Did his very presence make them more likely to sin?

It was a possibility. Most angels insisted coruption was in demons very nature.

The rustle of feathers and the smell of gun oil, an odd scent for an angel Tech mused not for the first time, tugged at his senses just enough to pull him from the downward spiral he found himself in more and more often. Wracked with guilt, he didn't react when the angel touched his shoulder to straighten his robes.

"Humans fail. It's what they do." Crosshairs rasp did little to sooth, his words even less.

"... He was progressing. I assumed-" Tech froze as a chill arm wrapped around him. For as brightly as Crosshair could shine with grace, he was always far too cold.

"You'll get him back on track."

"I need to go to him."

"When you've calmed down." Crosshair countered firmly. His hand adjusted heavy robes, lovingly patched and added onto over the years. "Which I can help with.'

Pale wings dematerialized. Humans would only see two normal men if they had walked in on them, which couldn't happen. His home was filled with to many wards, angelic and demonic for a human to ever stumble in unwelcome. Tech could still see the golden wings framing Crosshairs halo though.

"My flock-"

"Will be here Sunday. Including your wayward lamb." The angel declared with such confidence Tech knew he was going to make sure of it personally. "Your tail is showing, and you're leaving scorch marks on your floor. If you go out to him now, he'll think he's damned and never come back."

Tech looked down to see cloven hoofs burned where his shoes had touched wood with a defeated sigh. "I have not earned your grace."

Crosshair smirked, his hands pushing off the robe he'd fussed over just a few minutes ago. "Silly preacher. Remember your sermons. Grace is given, all you have to do is ask."

Tech grabbed the hands undressing him, and held them tightly. He took his worries, inspected them, and then handed them to the high power that had cast him out. They still listened to him. They always had, even when he stepped too far from the light.

"Please."

[russellsppttemplates]

Omg I love all your work! 🫶🏼

Can you do Fraser and Clara maybe they are dating and nobody know and Carlos catch them in her room and call Lando?

Im so sorry if my English is bad, is not my first language!

Note: thank you 🫶 don't worry about it, english isn't my first language either!

The Norris family had joined you for a family vacation, everyone travelling directly to Mallorca after the race.

"My sunburn from yesterday is still quite red, I'm going to my room and read there today", Clara reasoned as she saw everyone else get ready to hang out by the pool.

"That's smart, cariño, do you want me to reapply the cream?", you asked, wanting to make sure she was being diligent about it.

"I can do it myself - if I twist my arm like this, I can get there", your daughter exemplified before heading upstairs.

Everyone else seemed to enjoy the time by the pool, you choosing to swim instead of just sitting around until you felt something snap, "Oh! Crap!", you hissed, holding the top of your bikini to your chest as one of the straps ripped from the band around your back.

"Is everything alright?", Matilda asked you, brushing her wet hair away from her face.

"Yes, just my top strap ripped, I need to get a new one", you said as you stepped out of the pool, Carlos helping you with a towell, "Actually, amor, can you get it for me, please? I'll just get the floors wet and then someone will fall", you asked your husband.

Carlos nodded, kissing your cheek and heading up to your room. On his way there, he noticed Clara's bedroom door was open and he took a peek inside, seeing his daughter cuddled up to his friend's son. Clara's head laid on Fraser's chest, the teenagers taking a nap as Carlos recognised his daughter's book on the Norris boy's hand, his thumb marking the page.

Walking to the hallway's balcony, he waved Lando over, calling him to join him upstairs.

"Do you want me to help you look through your wife's swimwear? I'm not sure how comfortable I fe-oh! Oh", he gasped as he noticed his son cuddled up with Clara.

"Do you think they're together?", Carlos whispered.

"Wouldn't you be together to do something like that?", Lando mused as he watched his son's protective hold on who he assumed was his girlfriend.

"We have to tell the wives", Carlos said as they walked downstairs.

"Damn it", Lando muttered under his breath, "I have to tell my wife she was right about this", he tsked, receiving a raised brow from Carlos, "she has been saying that they're dating for a couple of weeks now".

"Happy wife, happy life", Carlos patted his back, "you have to tell her she was right".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[xelasrecords]

The Oasis Is Beautiful From Up Close

Han Jumin x Reader x Kim Jihyun (NSFW)

Jumin, you, and Jihyun are having an intimate photography session and fooling around because you and your lovers are no longer at death's door.

A vee polyamory in which you're romantic with Jumin and Jihyun while their relationship is platonic.

Words: 2.9k

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Hold it—yes, right there. You're lovely, my dearest," Jihyun said in a half crouch.

Your sharp gaze held the camera steady as shutter sounds filled his cluttered bedroom. He didn't set up any professional lighting and relied on the late afternoon sun to accentuate your profile. After doing a lot of shoots together, you both preferred this session to be more personal and intimate without the high-end magazine polish.

This started because you had been teasing him more than usual, after all. From not wearing a bra to flouncing about his home in a scanty dress the whole day, Jihyun's hands had been all over you until he collected himself enough to commence this photoshoot.

Jumin had also been the one to suggest you not to wear anything underneath.

They both liked what they saw and you liked being watched with unrestrained desire.

Jumin was now looming behind his best friend, clinging so close that Jihyun had to shift him bodily away. It didn't matter though. He would just glue himself back to Jihyun's side. He needed to learn everything there was to know about modelling photography or he would be cursed in not being able to capture his beloved's beauty.

He had repeated this more times than you could be bothered to count.

When Jihyun accidentally knocked his elbow into Jumin for the third time, you decided to put an end to Jihyun's suffering. Jumin's ribs would live to see another day, but you weren't sure if you would at the rate this photoshoot was going. "Jumin, do you want to take a picture of my corpse?"

Jumin gave you an incredulous look. "Why would I ever dream of doing that?"

"That would happen if you don't let Jihyun take good pictures of me. I'm rotting here. Rotting."

His brows furrowed and he lifted your arms and twisted your head side to side. "No, you're not. You're perfectly alive. And beautiful."

"Jumin, could you please move aside? You're covering her whole body." Jihyun's voice wafted from behind.

Jumin uttered an apology and swiftly assumed his original position beside Jihyun. He studied Jihyun's laid-back stance, the camera's distance from his body, and the firmness of his grip, and mimicked him with stiff precision. "So that is how you take a good shot," he murmured.

You rolled your eyes and laughed. It was impossible to be annoyed at him when his curiosity about mundane things kicked in. You struck another pose, looking over your shoulder with your back turned to them. You tried to compose yourself, but the sight of Jumin suspended in a robotic half-crouch was so absurd that you had to cover your smile with your arm.

"Jihyun isn't crouching anymore, you know."

Jumin's hands didn't fall away from his phantom camera, fingers crooked to form a perfect rectangle. "But he was when he took the previous shot."

In a minuscule gesture at Jihyun, you motioned your head towards Jumin.

A childlike grin bloomed across Jihyun's face. He directed his camera on Jumin's trembling body and clicked the shutter button.

Jumin blinked at him. "Isn't she the muse of the day?" he asked, still retaining the same posture.

"You're much more entertaining to shoot than me," you chirped.

Jihyun let out an airy chuckle. "I'm giving her a break. Perhaps you want to take the spotlight while she's resting?"

"She's supposed to be the model of the day."

You looked pointedly at his bent legs then glanced at Jihyun, who only shook his head in resignation. You pressed your mouth before laughter escaped you and posed again. Jumin's eyes flitted back and forth, trying to comprehend what had passed between you and Jihyun.

You shrugged and blew a kiss at him, mouthing I love you, and Jihyun captured your gesture. When he approached you to take a close-up shot of your face, Jumin inched closer as well. He was so desperate to take a peek at the viewfinder that he butted heads with Jihyun.

Jihyun yelped and rubbed at his temple. "Sometimes it feels as if I have adopted a koala who can't let go of me," he said, albeit with a smile.

"You feed him with too much patience."

"Would you two stop bad-mouthing my effort in taking focused shots of you? This is unacceptable. What have I done to withstand this slander? You should be more understanding of my love." Jumin huffed out his suit jacket and crossed his arms with a dramatic flair. "And I would make an adorable koala."

You placed Jumin's hand on your waist and he drew you in by habit. "Our next photoshoot can be of you in a koala costume." You tickled his chin.

"We have been very understanding of you, my friend." Jihyun clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No professional photographer or model would want their session to be obstructed."

"And yet here you are, still alive and breathing in this room." You winked. "Aren't we generous?"

Jumin scoffed. "Do you suppose I should be alive and breathing somewhere else?"

You planted a kiss on his lips. "We want you here."

Not a moment later, you felt his fingers weaving into your hair, tugging at it with pleasurable force. You pushed your body up against him when you heard zooming and clicking sounds from Jihyun. Jumin ran his thumb across your shoulder and slowly dragged the strap of your silk dress down, humming in affirmation. You gasped as he trailed kisses down your neck and sucked at the skin on your collarbone.

In the haze of it, you blindly grabbed at Jihyun's shirt. He complied without resistance and positioned himself behind you. You slumped against him, indulging in the warmth of their bodies enveloping you. You could feel them everywhere; Jihyun was tucking your hair aside to kiss a sensitive spot behind your ear, while Jumin's hand had crawled up your inner thigh and was sliding his fingers into you.

You reached up for Jihyun, and his lips were on yours in an instant. It was a soft nip in the beginning, searching for your permission, and you gladly let him in. He deepened the kiss and your hips bucked against Jumin's fingers, earning a chuckle from him.

With his other hand, Jumin took the camera from Jihyun, freeing him to use both hands to roam across your breasts. Then slowly, Jumin pulled out his fingers and brushed them against your swollen lips. You sucked on them without a word, keeping your gaze on him the whole time while you swirled your tongue around his fingers. You knew he liked seeing you like this, knew what he was imagining you doing instead.

You wanted to turn around to face Jihyun, but Jumin stopped you. "Don't move. I want to immortalise you in this state. The lust in your expression is terribly tempting." He smiled at you and stepped back. "Jihyun, wrap one arm around her and cradle her face with your free hand. Show her off to me."

"He is strangely good at directing," you murmured into Jihyun's ear.

"It's hardly strange when a huge part of his job is telling people what to do." Jihyun obeyed Jumin's directions and pulled you closer. His touch was exhilarating, and the thrill rose exponentially when you noticed Jumin's satisfaction.

"Fortunately for the two of you, you get off on being told what to do," said Jumin who had an acute sense of hearing when it concerned Jihyun's and your opinions.

You smirked. He did always know you well.

Jihyun kissed your temple. You leaned your head against his chest and his hand snaked up your neck and rested on your jaw. You parted your lips, sucking in a breath, and pushed out your chest until your rumpled dress almost exposed your body.

"You can take a photo now," said Jihyun.

Jumin bent forward at a lower angle than was probably necessary, and clicked the shutter button with a palpable jolt that reverberated throughout his limbs. You raised your eyebrows and Jihyun tilted his head in question.

Then, Jumin had the audacity to look shocked at the brief preview on the camera screen.

Disbelief passed across his features as he fell back onto the bed.

You suppressed your smile and sat beside him with Jihyun in tow. The said bed was really a mattress strewn across the hardwood floor with swathes of blankets thrown atop it. Jumin had not given up on coaxing Jihyun to buy a proper bedframe, but you had.

Whatever floated his boat into dreamland.

"Let me see," you said.

Jumin scrunched his nose and zoomed into the picture. "Your nose and lips are clear. Not so much of your eyes, or even your hair. But Jihyun is a blur."

"Fitting." You looked deep in thought. "You know how hard it is to comprehend his essence as a whole."

"My essence?" Jihyun's response came out bewildered.

Jumin folded the heap of blankets so Jihyun wasn't constantly shifting in place, but Jihyun just draped it back around Jumin. Knowing that his body ran colder than the rest of you, you were touched that Jihyun was thoughtful to this degree. He had always been. It was one of the many qualities you liked from him.

"Please don't theorise. This isn't an art piece up for discussion," said Jumin.

"I'm simply giving you a leeway to rationalise your mistake," you said, sitting sideways in Jihyun's lap. He was still looking at you quizzically, but he placed his hand on the top of your thigh and squeezed it.

It sent a buzz of current throughout your skin and you shivered.

"I will do better." Jumin sighed. "Someday I will master Jihyun's photography skills and finally deserve your compliments."

You ran your hand through his tousled black hair. "You take good enough pictures."

"I'm aware that I have not been able to capture all your facial features in one shot."

"My nose was quite pretty in the one you took yesterday."

"That was the only visible thing in the photo."

"You have humbled him." Jihyun chuckled. "He was never this receptive of his photography flaws. I had given up and chosen to keep the blurred Elizabeth the Third pictures to myself. It's the intention that matters, after all."

"Intention must translate into execution," Jumin insisted. "It's imperative that I practice as much as I can."

"Today's picture is already an improvement." You climbed out of Jihyun's lap and lay on the bed. "Come, I've missed you two." You patted the space on your sides.

Jihyun flung himself on the mattress with a soft thud, arms out wide, and your body bounced on impact. You laughed and wormed into his embrace. The golden rays from outside the window fell on just the right places: his lush turquoise hair, the delicate arch of his nose, and his pale, pale skin so thin that you could easily discern the blue veins running below.

You had to convince yourself that he was healthy. He was all right. All of you were finally happy.

His blood was no longer shed on skirmish grounds. He could finally exist without having to fight for his right to be. Jumin did not have to uphold Jihyun's reason to live anymore, because he had found many reasons to.

Or maybe there were only two. But that was enough.

He gleamed now, instead of being swallowed by the light. He was wholly, completely Jihyun.

Jumin knelt on the mattress and looked down at you with tenderness so sincere that your heart clenched. "How long I have waited for this moment," he said, his slender fingers lightly dancing along your cheek.

"It has been months, but I still can't believe our dream could be a reality." You kissed the inside of his wrist, letting your lips linger on the small of his skin where his pulse beat. "It had seemed like a foolish delusion then, but now I get to relax with you without anything weighing my mind. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm missing something crucial and hell will be unleashed upon us again before we're ready."

"You can believe it now. Both of you have fought so hard," said Jihyun. "We're safe, and no one is in danger. Especially not me," he added, and winced. "I know I have been the source of all your headaches."

"No use dwelling on something we have forgiven you for." Jumin seized Jihyun's wrist. "But I would prefer it if you don't attempt another martyrdom. No more in-fighting. No more battling against rogue ministers and cult leaders. Not if I can help it." Seeing Jihyun about to protest, he cut in. "You have used up your apologies for this month. Don't you dare try."

Jihyun obediently shut his mouth.

All of you had lost too much to go through another wave of apocalypse. RFA almost disbanded and you carried the guilt everywhere for not being able to keep them together. C&R nearly went down, crushed under the weight of false accusations, dragging Jumin with it. Jihyun would never redeem himself back in Rika's eyes, but she came out alive and was in a hospital far away. Lost affection was better than a life lost.

Every day, the three of you help each other to live. One day, then another, then another. Nightmares still came, but at least they didn't come true anymore.

You hoped they wouldn't.

The security that came with freedom was hard-won. You didn't intend to lose it again.

On that note, having security also meant you were free to throw bizarre questions out there.

"I have a riddle," you blurted.

Synchronised groans came from both of them.

"It seems we're about to be tortured," Jumin said.

"Perhaps she will have mercy on us this time," suggested Jihyun.

Putting on the most earnest expression you could muster, you turned to Jihyun. "Who would you choose if you could only save one of us?"

Jihyun's eyes grew wide and Jumin exclaimed, "Why would you do that to him?"

You shrugged. "Too simple? I'll add more details to the scene."

"You possess a hidden sadistic desire," said Jumin.

Jihyun laughed. "All right, let's hear it out."

"Jumin drives us into a lake and the car is rapidly sinking, but you only have the strength to save one of us. Who would you choose?"

Jumin sat up straight and pointed at her accusingly. "That is a mockery of my driving skill," he said. "Though I admit I'm also curious to hear Jihyun's answer."

Both of you faced Jihyun with glimmering, hopeful eyes.

"I'd rather go with you both," he finally said. "I don't want to live a life without you."

That was a sly tactic to divert the talk to a solemn reflection. You wouldn't have it. He had to give a satisfying response or you would grill him until night arrived.

"But by doing so, you would lose our single chance to live."

"Save her." Jumin—that bastard—took pity on him instead of taking your side. "That would be the right course to take if I was the cause of our fictional death. One must keep a clear head when danger is imminent. Be logical."

You glared at him and whispered to Jihyun on a decibel where it shouldn't be called a whisper, "He's calling you stupid. Just sacrifice him."

"But he's right," Jihyun said. "I tend to use my heart over my head when someone needs me."

"This is why you're easy to tease." You sighed. "So, who's your heart calling for?"

"We all know he loves you, as do I. We would work together to save you," Jumin said, and Jihyun nodded with much eagerness.

You sputtered and scrambled out of Jihyun's arm. Curse their unwavering connection from being intricately intertwined since they were young. Served you right for loving two best friends who had been more than willing to present themselves as the sacrificial lamb to save your life.

"I get no say about my life or death?"

"You already handed over your choice to Jihyun. Now we will do as we see fit." Jumin was suspiciously smug when he declared it.

You swatted his shoulder without exerting any real strength. "You always find a way to cheat the system."

"It's not cheating if you never explicitly stated the rules and presented them with numerous loopholes."

You threw your hand against your forehead in the style of a faint-hearted Victorian lady receiving the most grievous news and tossed yourself back on the bed. "I have lost interest in this game."

"Some ideas are most poisonous to their creators." Jihyun chuckled, and put your hand away.

Unlike with Jumin, you found it harder to shoot antagonistic glares at Jihyun. Unlike Jumin, it was not in his nature to prod at you and challenge you into debates for mental stimulation. Unlike Jumin, he relented without much fight so it would only make you feel worse for teasing him too much.

Bickering with Jumin was a recreational activity, but it would be akin to kicking a wounded puppy if you did it to Jihyun.

"I hate it when you two join forces. I can never win against you," you grumbled.

Laughing, Jihyun kissed you and laced his fingers with yours. You held it against your stomach, deep gratitude washing over your heart. Jumin tipped up your chin, brushing flyaway strands from your face and smiled down at you.

Their touches, their gazes, they all confessed the same thing—something that existed between the three of you like it was the fundamental truth of the universe. A baby fresh out of the womb didn't need to be taught to breathe and cry. You didn't need to ask what it was. You didn't even hesitate.

Finally, you thought. No more wondering if tomorrow would come. You were loved and were fortunate enough to live out this life with them.

There would always be more days.

Footnotes:

The second half of this fic is inspired by the exchange between grieving Jihyun and MC from All That Is Lost that didn't make the cut:

"I doubt he could do it if he were told to choose to save only one of us." "Dear Lord, Jihyun." She laughed with tears in her eyes. "Let's not put him through more suffering." I took out the grief and repurposed it into something lighter. You're welcome.

This is my first romcom of the year and my first romantic smut ever!! I thought depression had stolen my motivation to write happy things, but turns out, I can still claw my way back here. It had been a healing process to write this. For the first time since I started here 2 years ago, I didn't worry about whether it's good enough. I just put myself in their headspace and found my joy in writing again.

Every time I write a bubbly romance I imagine snatching these characters away from the torment of their routes and plopping them into a utopia where nothing bad can touch them.

Header Corner:

Since this fic has both mature themes and playful conversations, I thought a mixed media style would be perfect to convey these elements. Then, I used velvet purple tones with a pop of yellow and comic speech bubbles to further strengthen the concept.

A quick process overlook!

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[pinguwrites]

Drabble: dark!william teases and degrades whore!reader in semi-public

pairing | william killick x reader

Warnings: kind of DUB-CON, william’s lowkey abusive, slapping, fingering, use of whore, public sex, reader used to be a prostitute, use of sir, reader’s implied to be a foreigner

“You know how many men have begged me for a night with you?”

William slammed you against the brick wall, careful that you didn’t injure your head. He slapped you across the face to gain your attention, but it was rough and made you cry out with pain. He grabbed your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him.

“They come to me during work, when they know you’re at home,” he started, roughly pulling your skirt up to reveal the panties you had on underneath.

“Please!” you begged, shivering from the cold air. “Not here — someone could see — ”

“ — they start off slow, telling me what a lucky man I am.” William ripped your panties apart, exposing your cunt. With how loud he was being, you were sure someone would come around the corner and see you two. “Then they start complimenting you. How obedient, how pretty, how exotic you are. Like you’re some damn trophy.”

You pathetically squirmed and cried out, “I didn’t know!”

“Surely you must have,” he said, feigning a confused tone, while his fingers spread the wetness to your clit. “With the way they were eye-fucking you. I know you’re not stupid.”

Your lower lip wobbled. “I-I — ”

“ — or maybe you are,” William mused, pressing his thumb against your clit. You jolted in pleasure, filled with embarrassment and shame. “Those men, the one you were flirting with at the party. They joke to me about passing you around. You know why?”

You didn’t say anything, too focused on the way he was rubbing you. With bent knees, you tried to keep yourself upright, but truly, the only thing that was keeping your balance was William’s hold on you.

“They want to fuck you,” William continued. “Some of them don’t even care — they ask me straight out, ‘Your wife was a whore, wasn’t she? Do I have to pay extra now that she’s married?’”

William slapped your clit, making you yelp, before he plunged two fingers inside. “I tell them no. But the way you were acting tonight . . . maybe I should have let them.”

“No!” you whimpered, pressure building up inside. You grasped his uniform, desperately clinging to him as you moaned and writhed.

“No?” William repeated. “Then why’d you let one of them kiss you?”

You hadn't seen it coming, honestly. It took you by surprise, but you were too far into a haze to properly express that.

"I-I didn't know what he was going . . . to . . . ah, don't stop."

William stopped, and pulled his fingers out. You whined and pressed your body up against him. "Please," you mewled, "I was almost there."

"Stop complaining!" he snapped. "Do you know what it's like for me to have to deal with this?"

You finally burst into tears, losing what remaining composure you had. "I'm sorry!"

William's eyes softened. "I know, I know you are. But you have to be punished. Do you understand?"

You nodded your head, sniffling. "Yes, sir."

When you first met William he was so sweet and gentle. You had just finished the night with a rude customer, and was roaming the empty streets in search for another. It was cold and dark, and you were hungry, but you were willing to sacrifice your well-being for more money, in that hope that one day you could have enough to quit this job all-together. When you saw William, you assumed he would be another arse of a soldier, but then he offered to take you in for a warm bath, and from there your romance blossomed.

He didn't care about your status. He wanted to marry you. His love was harsh and passionate and unforgiving, but you could handle it. You could take it, and he knew that. That was why he wanted you. That was why he chose you.

It was only that sometimes he could get a little carried away with his words. But he always meant well, didn't he?

"Turn around, and put your hands against the wall."

Trembling, you did as he asked, sticking your arse out. You closed your eyes, praying that no one would walk by. You could hear the sound of William unbuckling his belt, and you braced for the coming impact.

"I'm doing this because I love you," he reminded, before giving the first, painful blow.

You squealed in pain, knowing that you were going to be here a long while before the lesson was over.

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