#recently was reminded of it and now i keep thinking about it: pretty much all of my look is On Purpose

[puck-luck]

cole, spades, 22 (see what I did there??)

(Rip to when Cole was 22– I miss that number but I also love that he's 13 so I'm def torn)

Warnings: first time trying bondage, fingering, dirty talk, a split second of fem!receiving oral WC: 921

“C’mon, wider, baby,” Cole encourages, nudging your ankle with his elbow. 

He’s tying your other ankle to the bedpost with your most recent purchase, a relatively soft line of rope that the sales associate said was good for beginners. It had taken you a while to work up the nerve to tell Cole about the secret fascination you’d been harboring for restraints, so it’s not a surprise that the sales associate was able to sense your trepidation right away. 

“Be good, yeah? Make things easier for me?” Cole continues, finishing off the knot and looking up at you. His words are a bit awkward, although they’re not awkward enough to kill the mood. 

You’ve got some anxious butterflies fluttering around your stomach, that’s for sure, but the number of excited, anticipatory butterflies outweighs them. You’d asked for him to tie your hands, but Cole didn’t feel comfortable with that yet. He wants you to be able to push him away if it gets to be too much, if you don’t like it as much as you think you will. He’s considerate. He’s trying.

You and Cole’s sex life has always been pretty vanilla, until now. He’s a sweetheart, a true lover-boy, always wanting to show you affection and receive the same amount of affection from you. He prefers whispered words and pleasureful whines, beaded sweat along your collarbones and the curve of your back, and fluttered eyelashes that prove just how overwhelmed you are. You love all of that stuff too, but sometimes you crave more, and that’s how you ended up here.

Cole moves onto your other ankle. He’s got you on your back, cunt visible and open for him to do with what he wants. 

You admire the furrow between his eyebrows as he focuses, lips pressed together in a way that causes his dimples to appear. “You look handsome,” you say, unable to keep yourself from commenting on his expression. His concentration is the manifestation of how much he cares about making this perfect and, well, he just looks… like the man you love. 

Cole’s eyes flicker up at you and he smiles, the lines on his face disappearing. In lieu of a response, he finishes up his knot and circles his fingers above the rope, giving your joints a little squeeze. He lets go and finds his way onto the bed, hovering above your body and finding your lips with his own. His kiss is still sweet, a remnant of the vanilla sex that you’re not meant to have tonight.

“Don’t hold back,” you remind your boyfriend, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and toying with the clasp of his chain. 

“Won’t stop ‘til you tell me to,” Cole promises, referencing the plan that you both had outlined meticulously earlier in the night. “Now, let me get my fingers in you. I gotta get you begging for me, right?” He quirks his eyebrows, smirking slightly. 

You feel his fingertips swipe between your folds before he applies pressure to your clit. He moves along with that hand, rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger, then he brings his fingers to your mouth. His middle and ring finger find your tongue, plush lips brushing his knuckles. 

“Make sure my fingers are nice and wet, baby,” Cole tells you. He kisses your jaw, your throat, behind your earlobe. “I want to be able to fill you right away.”

He’s so gentle, but it’s making you antsy, which was his goal. He’s supposed to make you so frustrated and desperate for his cock that you’re trying to grind up into him, but the kick is that your legs are restrained. You can’t move as much as you want, not when you’re driven mad with lust.

You take his fingers eagerly, imploring him to do more by performing your best, and Cole finally moves. 

He inches his fingers down your body, washing away all of your hard work by leaving a trail of cool saliva in his wake. When he finally fills you, he’s not gentle. He finally switches.

You understand, in a split second. He fooled you and took you by surprise, fulfilling your fantasy of a dirty fuck when you least expected it.

His fingers thrust and wiggle inside of you, as if he’s beckoning you forward. 

“Oh my God,” you gasp, fingers clutching at his bicep. 

Cole chuckles, swooping in and nibbling your bottom lip. “Bit early to be saying that, sweetheart. I’ve barely started with you.” His fingers continue to toy with you, bumping against the front wall of your pussy in rapid movements. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could fuck yourself on my fingers?”

He brings his thumb to your clit, swiping over the bud delicately. He kneels back between your legs, leaving your upper half behind, and uses his other hand to spread your folds. Your clit is unable to hide under its hood and the barest touch has you twitching beneath him.

“But your legs are all tied up,” Cole remarks faux-sympathetically. “So all of your pleasure belongs to me, hm? I’ve got to make sure my girl feels good, since she can’t do it herself.” A smile breaks across his face, eyes taking in your red cheeks and parted lips before he leans forward and swipes his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

You cry out. Maybe Cole had been harboring the same fantasy as you deep, deep down– he’s certainly on the way to mastering his new role.

[daughterofhecata]

Should I just admit my shoes have reached the end of their natural lifespan and buy new ones? Probably. But this took 40 minutes, some glue and some embroidery floss, and now I can at least schlep them another summer.

[neverendingford]

.

[parfaitblogs]

daylight ❀ s. reid x reader

in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!

Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 

A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 

He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 

He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 

And he knew that.

You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 

"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 

"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 

Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 

"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."

He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."

Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."

"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."

"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.

He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 

"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 

"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."

You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 

"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 

"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."

"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 

"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."

You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.

"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"

On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 

"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 

"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 

"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 

"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."

"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 

"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"

"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."

You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 

"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."

"I don't know..."

"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."

"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 

"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."

A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."

"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.

His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 

"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.

"For what?"

"Crying."

"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 

"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 

"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 

"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."

He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."

"I know things," you grinned. 

"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."

"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."

"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.

"You really want to know?" 

You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 

And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.

And it dried your tears up.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sqtorux]

saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'

fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????

slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(

not proof read !

thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡

satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.

chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.

and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.

not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.

“gojo can you not-”

“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”

you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.

“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.

“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.

“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”

you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.

“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”

“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.

“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.

he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.

you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.

“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.” your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.

“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.

the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.

so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.

satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.

it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.

he just wanted you to be there. with him.

and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.

he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.

“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.

“i love you”

he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.

“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.

“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.

“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.

“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”

you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.

“alright”

you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.

“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.

“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.

[pomefioredove]

Hi uh—I would like to request platonic hcs for Diasomnia and any of your favorites with a very young Yuu? Like, not a child, but not college age either (so like 13-15 maybe). The reader is very quiet and gets overstimulated easily, but they can be very sweet—they just show their affection through actions rather than words (like giving someone a pretty rock because it reminded them of that person, without really thinking about it). Recently, my older brother passed away, and your writing has helped me lots! I hope this request wasn’t too much—apologies if it was!

thank you so much for doing what you do, it genuinely makes me happier :)

hi anon, I'm very sorry to hear about your loss, take care <3 I hope this helps

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ brotherly

summary: young yuu type of post: headcanons characters: diasomnia (malleus, sebek, silver, lilia) additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Malleus just absolutely treasures you

(dragon pun intended)

it's not strange for him to feel protective of his loved ones, but even so...

call it what you will, paternal, brotherly, either way he sees you as family

and he doesn't take such labels lightly!

he definitely has a little space in his room where he keeps everything you give him

and he's quite reciprocal, too

be it the finest jewels from Briar Valley or a glass bead he found on a walk

he quite likes spending time with you, too

let him into Ramshackle and he'll never leave

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sebek is, as always, a little distant at first

...he can be a little hard to get close to, that's all

but once he's deemed you worthy of his friendship, you will never get rid of him

he's loyal to the core

the kind of guy to start crying because he loves his friends so much

so, you're definitely safe with him

he teaches himself how to recognize sensory overload so he can get you out of uncomfortable situations faster

he keeps the things you give him on his person as good luck charms!

actually a sweetie, 10/10 no notes

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

though, out of the four, I see you and Silver being the closest

he can be a little... awkward at times

but he's got a soft spot for the meek and quiet

and he knows how overwhelming a place like this can be, especially for you

he knows what it's like to feel out of place

his friendship is full of comfortable silences and moments of peace

any time you feel overstimulated, or sad, or even just feel icky, he's got somewhere quiet you can hide away in

he's a sweetheart <3

he's just as protective as Malleus is, in a way

though he's more likely to teach you how to wield a sword and defend yourself

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the creaky old man himself!

much like Malleus, Lilia keeps everything you give him

unlike Malleus, it's... everywhere

all over his room, hidden in his pockets, he swears Grim ate one of the pretty rocks you gave him...

he cherishes the little gifts no less, though

and he'll often pass down some of his own old knick-knacks to you

(half of them have some kind of curse he forgot about. Silver deals with it)

he's basically adopted you at this point

Lilia has a soft spot for children, after all

and he's been getting oh-so nostalgic over Silver's youth, lately...

he probably makes everyone take terrible embarrassing photos together now that the family is complete

[creamiecoups]

why do u think about forced breeding with jeonghan???? also so glad that u are back

thank you anon it’s good to be back!!

now forced breeding would go crazy with jeonghan… i tried to keep it short because when i have a thought in my mind it runs and this would end up being a whole fic but i hope you enjoy it :)

WARNINGS: smut, established relationship, dark themes, forced breeding, creampie, dacryphilia, lmk if I missed anything

Something about the way you squirm and cry under him while begging him to pull out would satiate him beyond compare, it’s about possession, knowing you’d completely be his and no one could even bat an eyelash your way.

well, he just needs to do one more thing for you to forever be tied down to him.

“You’re doing so well for me, my angel.”

He’d pur in your ear, his voice dripping with honey while his thrusts would be rough and almost animalistic.

“J-Jeong…..Han….p-please,” you hiccup, carefully manicured nails now grazing and clawing at his chest for him to get off you but to no avail.

And deep down you knew he was persistent like that, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants, yet you still tried.

and he found that so fucking cute, it only made him want to be rougher, chase that high faster so he could finally spill his load into you, after months of used that stupid latex because you were too scared.

“Shhh sweetheart, I’m so close, it’s only fair I cum after I’ve made my princess cum so many times right?” He cooes again, peppering soft kisses across your sweaty hairline as a sob leaves your lips.

“Just pull out please, please im begging you hannie,” you cry out, clenching down on him harder than ever.

Jeonghan groans apon hearing his nickname fall so cutely from your lips, your pussy squelching so absurdly loud he thought the room was spinning, all he could think about was you and how he couldn’t wait to come home after a long day in a couple of months, to you and your child, you would be such a good mother, no matter if you were too young and not ready.

you definitely wanted this, you just didn’t know it yet, he knew your sadness would eventually wilt away, after all, a child is a blessing right?

He thought wrong. Although you guys had now been dating for a few months and were in love, recently Jeonghan’s possessiveness and antics had started to make you double think your whole relationship.

And tonight he finally snapped.

Seeing you casually talking to a friend from your department shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, it was harmless. but the minute that poor unsuspecting boy brushed your hair back behind your shoulder, he knew he had to do something. All carnal thoughts taking over. It was nothing, but he just needed a catalyst to finally do what he had been wanting to do since he first laid his eyes on you.

“I’m not pulling out my angel, you’re going to take me well like you always do, alright? You can do it baby,” he whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to widen slightly in fear.

Tears began spilling from your eyes as you thrashed around screaming at him to at least pull out, yet it only helped push him over the edge easier, the sight of you crying and weeping making him crumble easier than he thought possible.

Not long after he was spilling deep into your womb, pumping into you lazily as his tongue darted out to collect the salty tears staining your cheeks.

“My pretty angel, you’d look so much prettier with your tummy full…..full of what our love has created,” he purred, one strong hand leaving your bruised hip to tangle in your hair, before pushing your head down to look at your stomach, where you could clearly see the outline of his cock poking out.

The heavy shudder you let out only fueled his ego more, he knew you were always going to be his…he just liked reminders.

“W-What have you done—”

“Shhh… I’m not done with you baby, you’re gonna take as much as i give you…. I’m not stopping until you’re leaking my cum from this pretty pussy of yours for days.”

You were never going to be able to leave him now.

[dyaz-stories]

an indentation in the shape of you || Cha Hyun-Su x f!Reader

summary: Hyun-Su wants to learn how to make you feel good. The two of you experiment some more.

word count: 2.8k

warnings & tags: fluff, smut, reader is afab, explicit consent, pwp, porn with feelings, fingering, dry-humping i guess?, they're both virgins and pretty awkward but they're getting better at this, all very vanilla.

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: this is my first hyun-su one-shot without angst lol (...don't get too used to it). anyway, this is more smut, and i think it's more intense than the previous one. hyun-su is more confident in this one, and he takes charge a little more (but in other ways he's pretty subby, so do with that what you want). hope you enjoy!

There is something about watching Hyun-Su moving around in your house that warms your heart in a way you can’t quite explain. He’s seemed more confident there lately, no longer tiptoeing or stiffening around you like you could kick him out any second. It reminds you of days forever gone, when your mom used to sit at the table while doing her crosswords and your dad put music on the second he walked in through the door.

It reminds you of when this house was a home.

Right now, Hyun-Su’s fixing up a spear he’s brought here with some of your dad’s tools. It’s not his, you know that much. ‘Yi-Kyeong asked me to take care of it’, he’d said when he had set to fix it. There was something to his tone that had stopped you from asking for more, even if you think he’d have told you. He’d said her name respectfully, but with deep sadness, and you had known that there was a lot more to this story. You’d get there some day, you were sure, but not tonight.

Hyun-Su glances up at you, and you almost whip your head away to pretend you weren’t looking at him, like you’re a highschooler with a crush. Instead, you don’t even try to make it look like the long forgotten book in your lap is of any interest to you, and you give him a smile.

He stills his movements.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice is calm and deep. He sure has come a long way.

“Just like looking at you,” you answer, because it’s true, and even with all that progress, you’re not surprised when Hyun-Su looks away from you, cheeks turning red.

When he gets the courage to look back at you, though, a bashful smile illuminates his features, and you don’t think that would have happened even as recently as a few weeks ago.

“You do?”

There’s just something in the air. Something fresh and sweet and new, something that makes you bite your lower lip while you nod, suppressing the giggle that’s forming in the back of your throat. Hyun-Su’s eyes on you feel intense, and you’re not used to getting that kind of look from him. After a few seconds of that, he abandons the spear behind him to stand up and walk towards you, eyes not leaving yours for a second.

A long, intense shiver runs down your back. Under his hoodie, you can see the muscles of his shoulders moving as he walks, and fleetingly, you wonder if you’d have had a chance with him, in a world without the Apocalypse, but even that is quickly swallowed by the fact that you have him now.

He puts a hand on the back of the couch as he leans close to you to kiss you, the other coming to rest on your waist and oh, if he keeps doing things like that, you think you’ll just turn into a puddle. Your heart is fluttering, and when his hand sneaks under your t-shirt, long, cold fingers carefully caressing your skin, you think it just might fly out of your chest.

His lips move slowly against yours, and you tilt your head back as he towers over you. You feel like you’re going into overdrive from how sensual he’s being, how his tongue dances with yours as the soft sounds of the kiss fill the room. It’s not long before he’s gently pushing you onto your back on the couch, and he goes down with you, putting one knee between your legs to support himself.

And it’s all just so much. Hyun-Su’s lips, his taste on your tongue, his warm body half-covering yours, his fingers running over your ribs, and, fuck, now his knee just almost, almost pressing right where you need him to.

But this feels nice, too, and you’re not trying to initiate anything sexual just yet, so you do your best to be patient. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and find some satisfaction in the way Hyun-Su loses his rhythm at that. Knowing that you still have that kind of effect on him, even as you’re unraveling completely under his touch, makes you just a little more confident in what you’re doing.

It isn’t long before Hyun-Su’s gotten his bearings back though, and then he kisses you with renewed passion. The kiss turns less controlled, mouth crashing against yours harder, his hand tightens on your waist— before he pulls away, panting.

“Sorry,” he says before he can catch himself, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t mind,” you answer, but your voice is squeakier than you had intended.

“I didn’t mean to— I wanted to ask you something.”

His black eyes are wide, and as much as the blue eyes are like an electric shock running through you, you love them so much. You love how you drown in them, you love how kind they are, love that they are, truly, a window to his soul.

“What is it?” you whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.

“Just— What we did. Last time.”

No need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, so, even if you feel blood rushing to your face, you nod.

“I wanted to, uh, return the favor. If you don’t mind.”

It’s your eyes’ turn to widen, and you push yourself onto your elbows to better read his expression. The skin of your face tingles with how burning hot it is.

“I mean I— Sure but you don’t— You don’t have to do anything—”

“I know,” he says, shaking his head. His voice is soft. “But I want to.”

You swallow, but you lay back down. You’re more nervous in this situation than you would have expected, feel vulnerable, exposed, even if you’re all clothed for now. But you trust Hyun-Su, you do, with all of your heart, and you cannot imagine a better person to have this experience with. So, slowly, you nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” you whisper.

“Then can I…?”

He pulls on your shirt, but without putting any force into it. His eyes are on you, waiting for your approval — or whatever you decide to answer with.

You swallow.

“Um, yes, but could you— could you also…?”

He understands your meaning without you having finished, and acts on it faster than you would have expected, almost immediately pulling his own hoodie over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You’d noticed before that, for all his shyness over other things, he doesn’t seem to care about nudity all that much, but you’re not sure what to do with it.

For now, you can at least admire the work of art that is his body, his well-defined muscles and hard pectorals, and since he’s out in the open now, you give him a nod.

“Go ahead.”

He takes off your shirt like you’re made of porcelain, pulling it slowly and softly over your head, and taking his time so it doesn’t get caught in your hair. It is such a sweet sight, how focused he gets on the task, on making sure he’s doing right, so that he doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s only once he’s done that his gaze lands on your body. He stills, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but stiffen.

It might be silly, at this point in your relationship — and when the world has literally ended outside your window — but you’re feeling self-conscious. You want to fold your arms in front of your breasts, hide your stomach and any imperfection.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyun-Su says, so obviously in awe, and the weight on your stomach is replaced by sweet, sweet butterflies. “Is it— is it okay to—”

“Touch me,” you ask instead of letting him stutter through the rest of his sentence, and he almost gasps at that, pants suddenly feeling a lot tighter.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he mumbles, bright red once again, stealing a kiss from you when you open your mouth to tease.

Then he’s kissing down your neck, and you can tell that he’s mimicking the things you did to him the last time something like this happened between the two of you. You barely have time to find that sweet, though, because soon the only thing on your mind are the open-mouthed kisses he’s pressing against your skin, and how they make you so desperate to buck your hips against he’s oh so well placed thigh.

He doesn’t linger on your neck, though, soon moving down to your chest, sneaking a hand behind your back to try and unclasp your bra — something he ends up struggling you with so much that you’re the one that eventually reaches back to get it done. He’ll have all the time to learn that kind of things later. For now, there’s something on your mind, and you don’t want to have to wait any longer.

You let him slide it down your arms, then discard it, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes.

“Can I…?”

“You still don’t have to ask.”

He hesitates for a second, before going back down to press a shy kiss under your collarbone, right where your breast starts to form. He keeps kissing his way down, hands for now cautiously staying away. Finally, he reaches your nipple, and you cannot hold back a distinct gasp when he carefully wraps his mouth around it. It turns into a full moan when he flicks his tongue against it — and you could swear you feel his mouth stretching into a grin right after that.

It’s then that he cups your other breast with his hand, and you shiver. His body may be radiating heat, but his hands are cold. They don’t stay that way for long though, not with how hot you’re running right now yourself. He starts off shy over there too, at first massaging your breast gently, before his fingers dare brush against that nipple. It’s hard already, and with his mouth on the other side, all you can do is arch into his touch, moans still falling freely from your lips.

Pleasure’s running wild in your body, each and every sensation going straight down to your core, more so when his fingers experimentally pull on your nipple. You’re dripping wet already, desperate for relief, and it’s not long before you can no longer hold yourself back and buck your hips up against his leg.

He lets go of you almost immediately, glancing down at your lower body as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. When he looks back at you, his eyes are impossibly wide, his pupils dilated.

“Did you— Did you just—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call out in a sigh, running your fingers over the nape of his neck. “Touch me.”

For a second, his whole body tenses and he just stares at you. Then he exhales.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “Fuck. Um. Then I’ll— I’ll just—” He starts fiddling with the button of your jeans, and just the anticipation of his touch where you need it the most sends pleasure rushing through you once more. This time, he manages to get them off of you without your help, and there’s another slow exhale. “You’re so— You’re so—”

Wet is the word you think he’s searching for, and he’s not wrong about that. The urge to reach down between your leg to take care of the ache you’re feeling is strong, but the desire to feel him down there is all-consuming, and so you wait for him, your breathing loud and ragged.

“Tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good to you.”

He doesn’t take off your panties, probably because he hasn’t gotten your jeans fully off, and instead just pushes them to the side. He’s cautious here too, at first barely brushing against the lips, which still makes the muscles of your thighs tense. It feels like you’ve been waiting for it for centuries when he finally inserts a long finger inside you, sliding in so easily from how dripping wet you are. Your hold on his shoulders tighten, fingers digging into his skin, and even with your lips pressed tightly together, your moan reverberates through your body.

“Good?” Hyun-Su asks, and his low voice in your ears does absolute wonders to you right now.

“You can add another one,” you say, except it’s probably more of a whine, but you can’t tell for sure, not with how much your head is buzzing right now.

Hyun-Su obeys almost immediately, and you bury your head in his neck to muffle the groan that follows. You feel so good, so full, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You let yourself adjust, before giving him more instructions.

“You can— You can spread them open and— ah!— m-move them in and— Ah!”

Hyun-Su follows your advice diligently, and soon you no longer even have the strength to hold on to him, falling down onto your back with your whole body arching into his touch, following after him if he pulls out. It’s so, so fucking good, nothing you’ve ever done on your own can compare to this and you don’t know how you’ll be able to go back after that.

You’re gasping and writhing underneath him for you don’t know how long, and you’re so, so close to the edge, but you need— You just need something more, so you push yourself back up on your elbows, something harder than you’d think, when your muscles feel like jelly, and that’s when you realize that his hips are bucking against your leg. You hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now you see how obviously hard he is, and the small, almost shy movements of his hips as he ruts against you.

“Hyun-Su,” you call — you’re no longer paying attention to how your voice is coming out —, “here—”

You grab his wrist, and even if it means he pulls his hand out, something that immediately has your walls clenching around nothing at the loss, guide him so his fingers brush against your clit.

“There,” you whisper. “You can keep, uh, keep your fingers inside and— and touch me there, too.”

He nods, pushes the fingers back inside. There are a few seconds as he figures out how to best put his hand, and then when he strokes your clit with his thumb, you almost immediately lose it. You only have the presence of mind to lift your leg up, just a little, so it presses against his hard cock.

It’s his turn to freeze and to let out a moan then, one obviously surprised out of him.

“You should feel good too,” you manage to mumble through the haze of pleasure.

“But I— I want to make you feel—”

“We can both feel good,” you answer, and Hyun-Su just cannot resist kissing you again. It’s messy, tongues clashing together without much control, but fuck, he cannot explain or control the way he feels about you.

You come just a few moments later, waves of pleasure crashing through you all at once as his thumb circles your clit, fingers deep inside you, moving at a tranquil pace that lets you feel all of his movements inside you.

When you open your eyes again, he’s above you, staring at you lovingly.

“Good?” he asks.

Better than that.

“That was incredible,” you tell him though even that feels like an understatement. You love the way he obviously preens under your compliment. “But— But what about you? Didn’t you—”

You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him.

“I, um, I’ve already—”

He’s turning bright red again, but you understand without another word. His jeans are still on, and you haven’t even actually touched him, and yet he still came in his pants, against your thigh, while fingering you.

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed.

“Oh,” is all you can truly think to say. Then, shyly, “Want to go get cleaned up?”

“Together?” His voice is soft, questioning, but his eyes are in yours, comfortable instead of avoiding. You nod.

Later, you’re still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, his face buried in your neck. And you, too, are comfortable.

There’s just something in the air, something fresh and sweet and familiar, and you think something you haven’t let yourself explore all that much, even if you’ve known, deep down, for a long time.

It just might be love.

and here we are! this one felt a lot smuttier to me than the previous part, but it was fun to write about this relationship in a less angsty way, too. maybe i should let them be happy a little more lol. anyway, i hope you liked it! next part probably won't be smut, but i don't know when it will be out. i have a new, time consuming internship that doesn't give me a lot of free time, so i don't know how much/when i'll have time to write. but i definitely have more stuff i want to write for this couple! so don't hesitate to comment and/or reblog to give me the motivation to write after work lol, and i'll also be answering my asks when i have time!

[vonlycsnn]

✧ — PICTURE PERFECT

~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.

SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.

- cw/tw: none.

- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.

Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work. 

You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.

Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.

Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?

—

"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"Just give them a call. Trust me."

—

And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected. 

You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one. 

Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means. 

Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.

Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.

And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.

To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.

As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.

—

"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.

—

Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.

"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.

But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.

Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.

But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.

Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.

You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.

"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"

You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.

After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.

—

Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.

You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.

"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.

"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.

"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.

You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.

After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.

Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.

"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."

The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.

"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.

There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.

"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."

[hanrinz]

ᰔ. — your boyfriend, rin itoshi worries too much about you. a party can never stop him anyway. f reader.

“c’mere, sit down.”

your boyfriend, rin said as he tugged your hands gently as he led you to a bench. grabbing you by your shoulders to let you sit. dropping on his knees, dirtying his expensive pants that he had recently bought yesterday.

reo had invited the both of you to his party, something about a celebration of sorts for their recent victory.

though your boyfriend didn’t want to attend, with it being a pain for interrupting his time with you—his words not yours—a little convincing on your part did the job anyway.

the party was great and all, well you had expected it anyways. reo does have the knack for these kind of things, knowing he’s been doing this for as long as he can remember.

as the night goes on, you meet familiar faces, namely your boyfriend's teammates, who seemed to be overjoyed. you really had a great time, and you're pretty much sure rin did too.

(even if he was pretty much stuck by your side and if he was ever apart from you, his hands always seem to find it’s way to any expanse of your skin.) but soon enough the party just drained the life out of you. your dress sticking uncomfortably on your skin, the music just blasting in your ears, a headache pounding in your head.

and you really, really tried to stay for a little more—just out of courtesy, but rin noticed.

he always does.

finally, he thinks to himself.

a reason to bail out, he’s sure these losers can understand if the two of you leave early, he just can’t wait to come home and just have the night together all to yourselves.

and so he did, he gently dragged you towards the dooor out of reo’s house, taking your purse and phone as he whispered lowly in your ears.

“we’re leaving.”

“already? but what about reo?”

“he wouldn’t mind,” he interjects as he walks slowly beside you, your hand still laced with his. trudging as you try to navigate your way despite the alcohol taking its effect into your vision. as you open the door, the cold air of the night greets you, and it was rather nice.

you can finally breathe.

the still quietness of the city had quelled the storm in you, the dark lonely city offers its comfort to you. and you really like times like this, just this moment of the two of you alone with each other. hand in hand, aimlessly walking in the dead of the night. you turn to the man beside you, a small tired smile creeping up its way in your face.

now that you think of it, you don’t mind escaping everything if you could always have a moment like this with him.

“thank you for accompanying me tonight.” thank you for agreeing to you to come even though he doesn’t want to—is what translates to rin’s dictionary that was made for you.

rin looks at you briefly and looks away just as fast before responding.

“you don’t need to thank me, it’s nothing.”

noticing the tip of his ears all flare up as the color of a rose, you suppress the laugh in your chest as he plays it off as something as ‘nothing’. your boyfriend is totally like a cat who hates showing affection, sometimes you just want to kiss him.

you would’ve run or just go wild in the street just from the millions butterflies that flutter in your stomach if not for the incessant pain in your feet—your heels are killing you. it has been two hours since it’s been bothering you, trying to ignore it the whole time you were in the party.

not being able to keep up with his long strides despite his slow pace.

it’s definitely because of his long legs.

rin noticed once again, as always. which led you to this present moment of him kneeling down for you. his hands working on unclasping the straps of your heels, taking it in his hands as he stood back into his height.

he stares for a moment, tilting his head a little, that kind of reminds you like a cat.

suddenly, putting your phone in his pockets, taking off his jacket and tying it around your waist. taking you by surprise, but you let him do it anyways. turning around, his back facing you as he kneels once again.

this was a rather unusual gesture from your boyfriend, is he offering you a piggyback ride? you wonder what has gotten into him.

might as well savour this opportunity, don’t you think?

you got on his back, his hands coming around your thighs and his jacket acting as protection on your lower body. rin was warm, always been so cuddly and huggable. you lean into him, with a small smile hanging on your face.

“thank you, rin.”

he scoffs at that, “i told you, its nothing,” yet the heat that reaches the tip of his ears never gone away.

“i know,” you whispered. “but still, i had fun today and i really wanted to go out with you. you didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

you were met with silence, but you dont take any offense in it. because it’s just him—its just rin itoshi, it’s just the man you know of for years and have come to love.

“...we can always go out if you’d like,” he pauses. “and i did it, because i want to. don’t you ever forget that, idiot.”

you laughed at him once more.

“okay.” you promised, with a wide grin forming on your face, that rin can imagine even if he can’t see you from his back and it feels good.

everything was good when he’s with you.

◞♡ likes & reblogs are highly appreciated! i miss rin like crazy guys this draft is like from march last year lmfao

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Doc-Ringo⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

✮ Yandere! Boothill x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: There's a slick black-clad little gal who's been messing with his bounties recently. Boothill's been dying to rustle her up and take a bite

⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, war trauma, Genie trying to do a cowboy accent.

⁺���𝄞₊⁺: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett

And I don't hardly know her,

But I think I can love her,

Ah, now when she comes walking over,

I've been waiting to show her,

My mind's such a sweet thing

I want to do everything

What a beautiful feeling

It's not like the movies, they fed us on little white lies.

~💜

The first time he sees you there's a tempest of bullets rattling off his chest. Metal singing metal, as shells vie for an opening. It's all very lethal,

like the center of a rabid dust storm. Kissing death and sucking in her poison. Boothill can't tell where the bullets are coming from only that there's a dozen at a time ringing over his head. He shields his face with the metal of his forearms peaking through the gap to catch a glimpse of black.

Pure black.

That's the first thing he notices as your frenzy yields, You're clad in black from head to toe, even going so far as to dawn an eerie familiar mask. He's seen this scene play out somewhere before, he just can't remember where. "Morning mister", he likes that voice, jejune and teeming with confidence. It reminds him of himself, back when the sunset used to mean something and he could still feel wheat stocks under his soft palms.

"Howdy lil'lady I reckon you're in my way. Mind stepping aside before you get yourself hurt?" Your answer comes in the form of an aimed pistol, spine straight, midnight serape caught on the wind. He thinks you look a little too much like the folks back home -back when there was a home- blood boiling over eager for a fight. His bounty is standing just over yonder, blocked partly by your stubborn shadow. Boothill doesn't think twice before firing two rounds.

He's met with four...

He's in a cheap motel on Penacony, screwing in bolts that came loose. In the end, you laid claim to his bounty. Dragging him away to the hills. He's left growling at the thought, bested by a muddle-fudging fox. Lil gal probably ain't never even been in a proper shoot-out. The screwdriver cracks under his metal fingers. Boothill ain't about to start letting some pretty little thing get in the way of him and his targets.

The TV screen flickers to a melancholy monochrome. The films are old, distorted, crippled in parts. But he keeps them around, much like everything else about him, it's a bygone thing refusing to die.

He still likes to play them from time to time, trying to elicit the tastes of home. Hearing Nick and Graey setting plates out for dinner as his siblings rush downstairs. The movies are older than the new universe in more ways than one.

They come from a simpler time.

He'd always wondered why someone would bother painting such precious things in black and white. Spilling melancholia into picture frames, leaving everything tasting of vodka and vanilla.

It doesn't matter though, not really. All that matters is the sound of hooves on sand and bullets shooting. So long as the cowboys live their stories, everything else can be forgiven.

But this time something's off. The bandit's black mask shines through, gleaming something awful making him grind his sharp teeth. That damn mask, sitting pretty over a sly smirk. it reminds him of you, little cutie with your slick attitude. What bandit goes around doing hero's work anyway? What kinda twisted little lady are you?

He's getting mighty sick of this. Do you think you own the universe or something? "Been seeing way too much of you lately." There's sand in his Synesthesia Beacon his voice coming out horse, brittle. He kicks the head of an IPC lackey trying to drive home a point. "You getting on my nerves cutie". The ground looks nothing short of a graveyard, bodies scattered some piled. The blood paints the sands in a deep maroon, reflecting the glint of the distant stars. The last soldier is cowering behind you, his whimpers singing in Boothill's ears, one more bullet, that's all it'll take. "This one's mine" you mutter, and he wonders for a moment if the dry weather is getting to you too. "Not a chance pumpkin" his gun's drawn, firing bullets before you can even feel for your holster. The smirking bullet impales your abdomen, aimed point blank at the officer's head. But before the last body can be claimed you kick the man out of the way.

"Damn it" Boothill's anger is tangible, he knows you can feel it between your teeth. He's going to kill you, tear off that star-saken mask, and riddle you with bullets. You're getting too confident.

He doesn't notice your bullets at first. Protostars trying to act all rough and mighty. There's a temporary cluster of dust, a fraction of a second where his eyes aren't pinning you down. That's all it takes and then you're off. Sinking into the darkness and swimming away, taking his target with you.

It's only after the initial anger wears off that Boothill notices a tear on his thigh. A letter scrawled on the frayed leather of his pants. So you've started leaving your own marks, ay cutie?

He almost wishes he could feel the sting of your blade on his flesh. Feel your nails scrapping along his shoulders as he pins you to the ground.

Boothill fires at the moon.

Next time.

Next time for sure....

He's been chasing you for some time now. But catching up with you isn't as easy as he first thought. Seems like you go wherever the wind takes you and he's too busy with revenge to be following your capricious whims. The IPC ain't going to kill itself you know. And Boothill damn well wishes you'd start sitting still. He's heard from a reliable source that the IPC soldiers are throwing a little get to together down in one of the bars. Just a happy birthday for a colleague, nothing fancy. The thought alone makes his mouth water, place will be crawling with pests just waiting to be gunned down. Maybe tomorrow he'll try looking for you again, but tonight? Tonight's his night.

The neons have dulled now, they never were terribly bright to begin with. Penacony may be the land of dreams but not even dreams can stop reality from seeping through. The bar's loud, some new pop singer's music blasting from every speaker. Boothill downs his drink, liking how the ice cubes chime like a bad omen. He shoots the speakers first, needing some peace to focus on what comes next. The peace corp's lackeys are drunk, they stumble over themselves trying to reach him. He shoots each one like a kid playing carnival games. It's almost too easy...

The door is stampeded over by a heard of reinforcements. Somehow even in his drunken daze one of those yella-bellied lapdogs called for help. They're swarming the place like panicked rats, pushing past tables and chairs. Firearms aimed at his head. And for the first time, in a long, long time, Boothill feels a sliver of panic run down his bionic spine.

Motherfudger...

Boothill hears the familiar tumult of bodies hitting the ground before he sees what's actually going on. He feels you before he actually sees you. You're pushed up against his back, guns drawn locked, and loaded. "Heard you needed some help" Even though you offer your usual bravado, Boothill still picks up the nervous lilt in your voice, despite everything he thinks he likes it. It almost tastes sweet. "Best get away before you get yourself hurt little fox." "And let you have all the fun? Never."

"Certe murmur pugnando" Boothill laughs, he remembers those very words coming from a buddy of his before a duel. 'At least we'll die fighting' Somethings never change, even if you've carved out every principle from your body with a rusted kitchen knife. You'll always have those pesky morals stuck inside. He hears you chuckle, wonders if you find it odd that a rowdy galaxy ranger such as himself knows a dead language.

Well, he knows a lot about the dead.

The shoot-out lasts longer than he'd have expected.

But the real surprise lies in how neither of you are dead. Boothill's half laid across the bar, looking at you from under his hat. You're making him a drink following his instruction like a good little wife, not contradiction dressed in ebony. Gunpowder withers on his tongue, the bullet smoke permeates the air mixing with the gleeful tang of spilled blood. "Your drinks sure are complicated" you mutter pushing him his cup before picking up a bottle and reading its labels. "What's so hard about it pumpkin? Little bit of white gem and gin. All's you need." He sips your drink slowly, savoring your flavor. He imagines he's gulping you down, holding you for ransom behind his teeth, feeling your delicate little fists pounding against him. "I don't drink" you mumble as you sit across from him, you look so damn elegant, like a little princess from a fairy tale he use to read to a certain someone. You drink deeply from your glass of ice and water. Boothill focuses on the gentle motion of your throat. He licks his lips, trying to push down the thought of ringing such a fragile thing between his palms.

"So little lady, s'about time you start answering some questions...The hell you doing? Running off with my targets?" You set your cup down, eyes locking on his, there's the deficiency he's missed all night. The trigger hair that's just waiting for the right push. "They're not your targets...not really. They're just people. People whose planet got muffed up. I've been trying to gather them all in one place." For a second Boothill thinks you're talking about his planet, his home, his people. But it only takes one more look at you to understand.

"So, how'd yours die?" There's shrapnel in his throat when he asks, open wounds bleeding once more, filling his throat with bitter memories.

You stiffen, and he knows he's thumbing a broken bone, letting his finger dig between the cracks and snapping their frail linings. "Don't know, wasn't there. All I ever got to see were a few limbs, nothing enough to make a full person." you squeeze the glass until your knuckles turn white.

There's vindication rooted in your veins.

He knows the feeling all too well.

"We ain't so different you and I, reckon we make a pretty good team." His metal fingers lace between your soft skin, tracing the lifelines like an old map.

There's a goldmine hidden behind your lips, he imagines he'll have to kiss you to find the little nuggets. Your lips part, eyes filled with an odd-looking sympathy. What he wouldn't give to feel your plump lips bleed between his jagged teeth. "So..." you ask as his mechanic heart skips a beat. "What about yours?"

You've been laughing for five whole minutes. Boothill shouldn't find the noise as ethereal as he does. His anger lays heavily on his bones, he should be even angrier, lounging a bullet through your thick skull. But he finds the noise a little too perfect to disturb its source. Even if it's only created at his expense. Instead, he has half a mind to slap you, hard enough to shut you u and another to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe. "Damn hell so funny, cutie"

You look at him with those luminous eyes. Filled with pain and riddles. Boothill never did like solving puzzles. He only likes tearing things into bits. He needs you spartan, easy to read and use, and kiss. Not something he needs to piece together first.

"Dear stars you have no freaking idea how ironic you are." You say between bursts of spiteful-rooted giggles.

Why do those words sound so haunting like a ghost kiss? they should open phantom pains, but they sure as hell don't. Why do you always leave his head spinning? Boothill rolls his eyes, then leans over to pull down your mask. You jerk back, rewarding him with a dark grimace. You're out the window before he can ask your name.

"See you next time, cowboy"

"Next time I'm drawing blood"

The moment's over.

Fiddlesticks..

That night, Boothill dreams of you. He's lying in a stiff musty bed. It's too dark, even the moon is scared of showing her face.

Boothill dreams of the old saloons back home. Of their cracked wooden floorboards and the worn-out plush of chairs. In the dreams, you're wearing a black lace gown, like the saloon girls used to. He finds it all too funny that even in his dreams you still haunt him in black. Only now you're smiling, really smiling. Not that sly smirk, or mirthless grin you gave him back in the bar on Penacony. No, this here is a genuine smile and he's damn sure he's the one who put it there. You reach out for his hand, he feels warmth.

His

Yours

The dream is thick and dense like swimming through molasses. In another scene he's dragging you through the old doors, laughing as bullets and card chips hit the floor. There's a horse waiting outside. His horse. At least he thinks it used to be his. He pulls you up roughly in front of him. He's high off the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the rugged reins. High off the steed he holds in a vice grip between his thighs.

He's riding faster than he's ever ridden before, clambering for the sunset trying to engulf the sun. You hold on tight, pressing your cheek to his chest. His heart is beating something fierce between his ribs. He feels like an Aeon watching the universe collapse under his galloping feet.

He feels alive.

With the sun's rays behind you, Boothill could almost mistake you for the star-dwelling angels Nick used to tell him about. There's something poetic in all of this. The cowboy standing off against the black fox.

Dare he call it cinematic?

Boothill creeps closer. Tilting his hat and watching you flash a nervous smile through his lashes. "Volo sentire te inter dentes meos" so you know that dead tongue too. "You will soon darling, that's what I'm hoping for" his reply only dwindles your smile.

He's missed the old duels. Missed staring into the eyes of the one who could kill you. It's all a matter of skill and luck. Whose faster, who the aeon will trust?

Somewhere in the distance, the tumble weeds begin to rattle.

"Now"

His bullet glides through the air, piercing through the dust and sand. Your bullet reverberates from your gun a fraction too late and ricochets past his cheek. Leaving a juicy trail of blood.

But his bullet was aimed at your chest.

And Boothill never misses...

You want vengeance he won't deny you it.

So long as you stay by his side.

He'll tuck you away somewhere safe.

Somewhere you won't be leaving him again.

Boothill cradles your body to his chest. "I promised you blood little fox, and Boothill never goes back on his word." His cheeks hurt from smiling as he lays his hat atop your head. He's Picking you up and walking into the sunset. He knows a good ol'doc who'll patch you right up. And then it's a happy life together.

Well for him anyway.

The end

Taglist: @hihellomy @salhanskkdbfkekfb @gasoline-eater @sp1cym0chi

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s interrogation II

Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo

Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.

Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!

All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.

I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.

Enzo Berkshire

Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.

Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”

Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. ��He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.

Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.

Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.

“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!

“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”

Blaise Zabini

Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”

Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”

“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.

“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.

“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.

“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”

Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.

“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.

“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.

“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.

“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.

Draco Malfoy

“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.

“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.

“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.

“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”

“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.

Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.

“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”

“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.

“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.

Theodore Nott

Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.

”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”

Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”

”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”

“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.

“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”

Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.

Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!

[kingconia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS MUCH WORSE THAN THEM

(Aka. In their ’signature’ character trait.)

A/N: Idia was left out, because this author had no idea how to write his part.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— It is not a secret that Riddle might appear a little bit obsessed, when it comes to rules. He knows all of them, and he merely can't understand how others can be so careless!

— And since no one learned them, excluding him, they trusted with each word he said. Mostly, Riddle said truth, following the codex precisely;

— But, oh, he is still a human. Sometimes, he can make mistakes or confuse things...

— That is why, when a new student of his suddenly stood up to point out at his mistake, Riddle doesn't even know what to do: be happy that there is someone else like him, or get annoyed for a necessity to admit his wrong?

•

”Hmph, how dare you call yourself a housewarden of Heartslabyul, when you can't follow elemental rules?”

As other students gasp, shocked by this kind of braveness, Riddle feels his cheek heating. Either from anger or from a strict gaze of yours, that reminds him much of his mother.

”You said that the ’only ever drink tea with slice of lemon on even thursdays’ rule is under 53 number,” you repeat, with hands on the tips, and with no care to Trey, who tries to stop you.

”That, I did,” regaining his coldness, Riddle admits.

Truth to be told, he sensed that he made some kind of mistake with this one. But recently he had been more tired than usual, and it is not like someone else know those rules but him, right?

Right?

”Well," you huff. ”It is under number 35.”

Oh.

”I...” Riddle tries to ignore others eyes on him, fingers digging in the fabric of his pants.

He fights an urge to lie about checking other students, instead of admitting his fault. You don't give him time for any of that.

”Well, keep that in mind then,” you say. ”I expect my housewarden to respect our dorm rules, after all.”

With that, you merely leave.

Riddle has a very mixed feelings about this encounter...

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— When headmaster Crowley stops him not for yelling at him for missed lessons, but to speak of another troublemaker from Savanaclaw, Leona is caught off guard;

— It appears, a new freshmen, gained a quite awful reputation. You seem to be sleeping all the time—you did, in the ceremony; and you do, if you appear on lectures, though, mostly, you don't at all—and the only good thing about you is your surprisingly high grades;

— Truth to be told, Leona is just amused by that. All those warnings some pretty familiar, so, he decides to see you himself;

— Of course, Leona couldn't expect you to be so familiarly annoying!

•

”Shit,” you yawn, a frown touching your face instantly. ”Dude, you must have a really good reason to wake me up.”

Leona blinks; his curiosity changing with irritation quickly as he hears you speaking so carelessly, while stretching under the tree, not even standing up to meet him properly.

”Oi, brat, pay some respect to your housewarden!” He hisses. ”Perhaps, you are forgetting who are you speaking with?”

”Leona-sama,” you sigh tiredly, not impressed by his answer, ”I can't pay respect to someone, who thinks that distracting me from my power nap, is fine.”

Leona is speechless. Mostly, because he doesn't know how to argue about this—he agrees that sleep is more important than anyone or anything in this school, after all. But the amount of disrespect...

”Do you have an idea of your reputation? Headmaster plans to expel you from the school if you continue like this.

Leona internally cringes from these words.

”Sure,” you hum lazily. ”Good luck with throwing off the best first-year student, just because they find those lectures boring.”

Leona can't even answer to you properly. You just fall asleep as soon as you stop speaking, with your tail wrapping around your legs peacefully. At least, he understands Ruggie now...

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Azul makes a quick background check on all of his students, of course. For safety reasons. More or less;

— So, he is surprised, when one of the freshman, who happens to be you, is too secretive. Azul can't find anything on you at all, even the smallest piece of information, and so, he gets curious;

— His first plan—to get twins stalker on you—fails, when you catch them in the action, somehow. Even worse, you somehow make a pact with them, which stops them from trying to dig in your past more...

— Your next step is to send Azul invitation for a little friendly lunch in the Monster Lounge. Sadly, when he agreed, he couldn't know that was expecting him here...

•

”I am failing to understand a purpose of our meeting,” Azul locks his hands together, staring at you without even blinking.

You make another sip of the apple juice you ordered, lips stretching in a soft smile.

”I am here to offer you a pact, Azul-sama.”

Azul almost bursts in the laughter. Who do you think you are, making this bold offer, going against him? What an amusement.

”Oh? Surprise me, then.”

”As far as I know, you spent last three weeks, trying to gain a little information about me. But, oh, all for nothing. Just as I tried to find an answer for a few questions considering you and the Monster Lounge, and failed... So, what I am proposing, is to exchange our secrets mutually,” you wink. ”What do you think?”

How stupid of you to think that he will agree on something like this!

”And why would I want to make a pact with you?”

Suddenly, you search for something in the inner pocket of your jacket. And as you find some envelope, you offer it to him.

”Because you don't want this to get leaked, perhaps?”

It takes a few minutes from him to process what is inside, but when he does, colours leave his face instantly.

”Y-you—”

How did you?..

”It is a deal, then.” You laugh.

Azul hates how there is nothing he can say to you...

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Kalim tries to befriend each student of his house naturally! But, sometimes, others don't want to return his sentiment as he is too loud and too naive for them, so they avoid him or offer a fake sympathy;

— So, when one of the students rushes to befriend him first, smiling widely as they met their old friend, Kalim is very, very happy!

— You match instantly, your undying energy and enthusiasm about everything bringing you close as soon as you start speaking;

— Even better, you take him seriously, too. It is something other do rarely, seeming him stupid and air-headed, but you know that is more than that. It goes in both way, after all.

•

”I... I must admit, I am very happy to be your friend,” you muse softly, back pressing to the carpet as both of you taking your short flight around the school. ”I think, I annoy a lot of people here... But I am not annoying you, am I?”

Kalim looks surprised with this question—after all, you knew him better than anyone!—as he rushes to shake his head in denial.

”No, no! You would never.”

You hum, turning on your stomach slowly. Head pressed on your crossed hands, you nod at him.

”That's good. Thank you.... And, Kalim?”

”Yes?” He asks, mirroring your pose, your shoulders pressing together.

”I think you are amazing housewarden, too. Don't allow anyone think otherwise.”

Before you manage to understand, Kalim is already tucking you on the back, to hug rightly. Just how you always know what to say to him, or how to make him happy?

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Everyone knows that despite his tight schedule, Vil always checks on all of his students, so they could fit standards of their dorm;

— He takes more time to deal with new students, though. Most of them are still not aware of Pomefiore rules and expectations, so, he needs to speak with all of them individually;

— So, Vil is slightly taken aback, when someone is already instructing new students before him. He watches as you explain others common rules, while giving them random advice on how to enhance their skin and hair routine, basing on different problems and offering interesting solutions, curiously:

— Of course, Vil can't wait to speak with you personally!

•

”Y/n Y/s, right?” You pause your speeches, nodding at Vil, who just entered the room. ”I had been watching you for a while, and, I must say, you have impressive qualities. And style, too.”

Vil partly expects you to become all shy over his compliment—that is what happens usually, at least—but, instead, you became even more serious than before.

”I appreciate that, but I believe my wish to help other classmates is partly selfish. And selfishness shouldn't be praised.”

It is not what he thought he will hear.

”And how so?” He asks with unhidden curiousity.

”I strive for perfection, and perfection can only be achieved by the hard work,” you punctuate firmly, raising your chin higher. ”But I also believe that your surroundings should fit you—and so, my dorm, classmates, and housewarden should meet my expectation for myself, too. Therefore, I need to guide them in perfection alone with myself.”

Ah.

Vil can't help but smirk. What an absolute pleasure to speak with someone, who knows what they are doing, who has right morals!

”Well, well,” he folds arm on his chest. ”I can't wait to see more of your hard work, then.”

”I would never disappoint.”

But as the conversation is finished, Vil already knows who is going to be the next housewarden, when he leaves.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When Lilia tells him that they now have another half-dragon creature in the Diasomnia, Malleus is partly curious. It is a rare thing to have someone of his own kind, after all;

— But, of course, Malleus can't just walk to you and start a conversation. Instead, he tries to see you more often; in school or corridors;

— It doesn't give him much. You seem very cold, and other classmates ignore your presence constantly, though, you don't seem to be interested in them, either;

— He finally has a chance to speak with you personally, when he finds you walking around gargoyles in the evening, though.

•

”Malleus-sama,” you bow your head, noticing his presence even earlier than he announces it. ”Good evening. How this one can help you?”

”Y/n,” he slightly nods, examining you closer. ”If I am not mistaken, there is party for the first-years in the school. Why are you here?”

Malleus can't help but notice hints of confusion, raising in your eyes, before you cover it with the usual stoic expression of yours. With a quiet sigh, you start petting the statute affectionately, much like an animal.

”Is that so? I am afraid, I wasn't invited, then.”

He rewards you with sympathetic look.

”I see,” he adds, awkwardly: ”I am sorry to hear that.”

”Oh, no time for regrets,” your fangs bare in a smile. ”Actually... Malleus-sama, I planned to ask you something for a while, but never had a chance to speak with you before. Can I?”

”Of course.”

”Headmaster told me, that you are leading the club of the researches that are dedicated to gargoyles... And so, I wanted to know what I need to join it. You see...”

As you start rumbling about the importance of gargoyles, Malleus can't help but wonder why he saw you as someone cold before. Was it something others thought of him, judging by short glimpses of his attitude in school?

But it doesn't matter anymore. He thinks, your company is very enjoyable, after all.

[miguelsslvt]

miguel o’hara x fem! reader shower sex

word count: 796

TW: smut, nsfw, fingering, miguel is a little cutie

A/N: happy kinktober my loves, enjoy the smut, welcome to the club;)

Miguel had been quite busy recently. And when I say quite, I mean very. You two used to have sex at least once every day, but now you’re lucky if you guys can even see each other during the week. You understood it was his duty to protect the multiverse and keep it in order, but damn you’re starting to think Lyla might be more important then you.

Thats why, on one night, Miguel finally got back after being out for 4 days. You two had barely even spoken. He looked tired, as you walked up to him, hugging him softly. ‘God you look shattered.’ You said, pointing at his eyeballs. ‘Didn’t you sleep in the spare room at HQ?’ You asked, he nodded. ‘Yeah, but you know what the beds like.’ He reminded, as you nodded. ‘yeah.. pretty bad. Cmon, lets get you cleaned up. You smell like crap’ you teased, as he chuckled softly, holding your hips as you both went into the bathroom.

this had been the first time in exactly 2 weeks and 5 days you had seen Miguel naked. And god, it was like a bottle of fresh water. His tan kissed skin, his abs and muscles flexing in just the right way, his v-line looking delicious as always. it was like he was sculpted by a god. You both got into the shower, the hot water going on both of your heads, as Miguel pulled you right on top of the shower head, as you gasped and giggled in surprise. He laughed softly, kissing you passionately.

You kissed back of course, missing this sweet side of him. Its quite uncommon to see Miguel be human for once.

Things got heated pretty quickly. He had picked you up by your thighs, pinning you onto the shower wall. your hands gripped around his thick neck, as your tongues danced together. He let go soon enough, panting. ‘We haven’t.. in so long..’ He said between pants, you nodded. ‘If you don’t want to-‘ ‘I’ve been craving you for weeks, love.’ He whispered, the water still hot on Miguels back.

He kissed you again passionately, placing a finger inside you. ‘Missed this sweet pussy..’ He growled, lacing another finger inside as you gasped in pleasure. Sure you’ve fingered yourself this week thinking about Miguel, but nothing can compare to his long, huge fingers.

‘god.. mig..’ You moaned breathlessly, as he just shut you up by kissing you once again. ‘..you ready, mi amor?’ He cooed, taking out his fingers and putting his tip just on your hole. You nodded desperately. ‘please.. you don’t understand how much I’ve needed this..’ You confess, as he plunged all 8 and a half inches inside you. You moaned out loudly, gasping as you felt the same usual heat as you always do when miguel is filling you up.

‘You okay..?’ He asked, groaning. You nodded, leaning your head on the cold shower wall. ‘y..you can move..’ You said, as he nodded.

He started thrusting into your slowly, as his pace soon sped up. You moaned in ecstasy, eyes glued onto Miguel. he was a panting mess, his hands grabbing anything of you as he could. Your waist, your thighs, your tits, your neck, your hands, everything.

‘fuck.. you feel so good, sweetheart.. could stay stuck with you like this forever..’ He whispered in your er, as your lower stomach felt hot as he thrusted deeper. harder. Your mind was foggy and clouded in lust, all you could think about was Miguel and how good he ws making you feel. ‘M..Miguel.. gd feels so good..’ You whispered, whining a little. He chuckled slowly, lifting you chin to look up at him. ‘Its okay, keep your eyes on me. i’ll always be here, okay?’ He said, kissing you sloppily. ‘Always gonna be here to fuck my girl the way she deserves.’ He said between the kiss, as you moaned softly, hands trailing up and down his abs, feeling the same familiar hot coil down your stomach.

‘g..gonna.. Miguel..’ You whined, as he nodded. ‘I know. I know..’ He whispered, as he got faster and harder with the thrusts, so hard you swore you started seeing stars. You let out a loud moan of Miguel’s name, as your eyes rolled back, cumming on his cock.

miguel kept going, biting his lower lip, grunting as he groaned loudly beside you ear, mumbling something in Spanish as he came deep inside you.

You both panted together, the sound of the shower still there. You could worry about the water bill later.

You looked up at Miguel, as he kissed you passionately.

‘We’re not done yet, my love.’ He said, his voice husky and deep. god, you knew you were in for it now.

[ito-itonomen]

I recently read that blood can hypothetically be used in Baking as a substitute for eggs and this obviously reminded me of toh bc it's been over a year and that show still lives in my frontal lobe lmao

Like, when I first heard Lilith talking about making all those blood based recipes w Gwendolyn I thought "yeah that checks out it's the boiling isles where people eat spiders and eyeballs why wouldn't they cook with blood too"

But now I'm actually thinking it could be deeper than that?

Griffin eggs are expensive, they're not cheap to keep in the house and they're an awkward size too, once you crack one open, you can't exactly use part of it and then store the rest for later, at least not easily, and even so it would spoil quickly. (This I know from experience due to some expiriments in curing egg yolks lol)

Spiders have been mentioned to give milk, and it's likely that spider eggs are also sold, probably pretty damn cheap in bulk too, but spider eggs are more similar to fish roe, and wouldn't be any good for baking.

So, what do you do if you're from a poor or lower income household and want to make a batch of cookies or maybe a cake for your kid's birthday?

You use blood. A cheap, easy to come by staple in any market, available in all varieties from fruit blood to livestock, can be kept in a frozen until you need it, and full of nutrients and similar enough in the makeup of it's proteins to be used as a substitute for eggs.

And magic has been able to keep food frozen for hundreds of generations. Only wealthier individuals might know a good baking recipe involving eggs, but every common witch and their mother has some old box or notebook tucked away in the kitchen containing some faded recipe in great great grandma Meabh's handwriting for a nice blood velvet cake or blood sugar cookie.

In summery I think that in the owl house universe baking with blood is actually a charming practice rooted in multigenerational witch culture and a staple of hard times.

The only reason we wouldn't see Eda cooking with blood, naturally, would be due to Luz's dietary restrictions forcing her to go the much more expensive route but I bet king has all sorts of cute childhood memories of Eda baking those old family recipes from her own childhood and the smell of bloody sausages for breakfast and fango-blood bread on a rainy day

[thelovehypothesis]

Lights, Camera, Flirt

Carlos Sainz  x Fem!actress!reader

From this request!

Summary: On set, Carlos flirts endlessly, and sparks fly—both on camera and off...

a/n’s: This is a recent request!

warning: fluff, fluff, fluff!

The soft hum of the studio lights buzzed as you stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your leather  jacket. It was a polished but casual look—a perfect fit for today’s shoot promoting Formula 1, a new venture for you. Being an actress, you were used to long hours on set, but working in a sports-adjacent environment like this felt different. The idea was to bring more eyes to the sport—broaden its viewership—and someone thought it was a good idea to pair you with one of F1's top drivers, Carlos Sainz.

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect from him. From what you’d heard, Carlos was a total charmer. And while a little flirtation could be fun, you were determined to be as professional as possible. The last thing you needed was to get flustered in front of cameras.

The crew buzzed around you, adjusting lights and preparing equipment as you tried to focus. The director had explained that today’s work would involve some casual interviews, behind-the-scenes shots, and some promo clips where you'd playfully interact with Carlos to showcase the fun side of the sport.

“Alright, ready to go?” the assistant director asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You nodded, taking a breath. Just a job, you reminded yourself.

Then, Carlos walked in.

He was every bit the picture of a star athlete. Dressed in his red Ferrari team kit, dark hair perfectly tousled, and a confident smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, he exuded a kind of effortless charisma that made it hard to look anywhere else. The energy in the room seemed to shift the moment he stepped on set, all eyes automatically drawn to him.

“Hola,” he greeted warmly, walking over to you, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“You must be the one and only Y/N Y/LN I’ve been hearing so much about.”

You smiled, offering your hand. “That’s me. I hope I can keep up with a star like you.”

His hand was firm but gentle as he shook yours, holding it just a second longer than necessary.

 “I think I’m the one who’ll need to keep up with you,” he said, his voice a low murmur, his accent making the words seem smoother than they had any right to be.

You let out a polite laugh, already sensing that keeping things professional around him was going to be a challenge. But you were here to do a job, and so was he.

The crew gathered around, making final adjustments as the director explained the shots they'd be filming. The first segment was an interview where you and Carlos would chat about the upcoming F1 season, his team switch,, the thrill of the races, and how someone new to the sport—like you—could get into it.

“So,” Carlos started once the cameras were rolling, “how much do you know about Formula 1?”

You leaned in slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I know enough to know you’ve got a pretty packed season ahead of you.”

He raised a brow. “And enough to know I’m probably your favourite driver now, sí?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the flirtatious tone in his voice. But instead of letting it throw you, you tilted your head playfully. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see how today goes before I make any declarations.”

Carlos grinned, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused by your deflection. “Challenge accepted.”

Throughout the interview, he kept up a steady stream of light banter, occasionally throwing in a playful comment that made it nearly impossible for you to keep a straight face. Every time you tried to steer the conversation back on track, he’d toss in something cheeky, making the crew laugh as you struggled not to break character.

“So, what about driving?” he asked at one point, his expression a little more serious. “Do you like fast cars?”

“I think I could get used to them,” you replied smoothly, knowing full well where he was taking this conversation.

Carlos’ eyes sparkled with a playful glint. “Maybe I’ll take you for a spin sometime. Show you how a real professional handles a car.”

You bit back a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you said, shooting him a knowing look, to which he winked—an actual wink.

The director called cut, giving the crew a short break while the cameras reset for the next segment. As you stood to stretch, Carlos approached you again, his tone a little softer but no less playful.

“You’re good at this,” he said, nodding toward the cameras. “I almost believed you weren’t enjoying my flirting.”

“I’m trying to stay professional,” you teased. “You’re making that a little hard.”

He chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. “I think you’re doing a fantastic job. It’s not my fault I’m irresistibly charming.”

“Modest, too.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”

Before you could respond, the director called everyone back to set for the next shoot—a light-hearted promo bit where the two of you would be doing some silly races with miniature cars. As you both knelt on the floor, lining up your tiny cars for the race, Carlos was back to his antics.

“Loser has to buy dinner,” he quipped, positioning his car.

You raised a brow, not missing the suggestiveness in his tone. “What makes you think I’ll lose?”

He flashed that infamous grin again. “Just a feeling.”

“Don’t count me out just yet, Sainz,” you said, focusing on the little car in front of you. “I’m competitive too, you know.”

As the mini-race began, the room was filled with laughter and cheers, the silly nature of the task making it easy to relax and have fun. Carlos, of course, managed to sneak in more playful comments as you battled for first place. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself smiling more than you probably should have.

In the end, you did lose by a fraction of an inch.

“So,” Carlos said, standing up and offering you his hand to pull you off the floor. “Where are we going for dinner?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning as you took his hand. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Si,” he said, laughing softly. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s a night you won’t forget.”

His tone was teasing, but there was a warmth in his gaze that made you wonder if there was more behind his playful flirting. It was clear that Carlos wasn’t just charming for the sake of the cameras—there was something genuine in the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to enjoy your company.

As the shoot wrapped up, you found yourself lingering on set, chatting with Carlos long after the cameras had stopped rolling. You couldn’t deny it anymore—Carlos Sainz was more than just a flirt. He was kind, funny, and had a way of making you feel completely at ease, even as he teased you relentlessly.

“So,” he said, his voice soft as the two of you walked toward the exit. “About that dinner…”

You smiled up at him, finally giving in to the undeniable chemistry that had been building between you all day. “I think I might be free tonight after all.”

----

Hope you liked it! and let me know if you want to know how take dinner went.....

-Lots of love, Em.