#snob report

[thurstongrey]

[speakspeak]

The Snob Report shared a post on Instagram: "Helen & Me. Inspiration is everywhere! • • • ‘Stride’ from 1969 by Helen Frankenthaler

[sameteeth]

ok im sure 1 million people have said it but weather report is autistic as fuck

[dreamings-free]

28/5/23

[grollow]

Gotta love the post office. sdndskggds

I made an order for a Cosmo Air Light notebook and a Tomoe River notebook a couple weeks ago. It was listed as shipped and ?? went missing in Seattle somewhere. It's been "in transit" since the 6th with no scans.

Meanwhile, I made another order from the same place (For different notebooks) less than a week ago and that one's out for delivery right now.

I'm so annoyed because I wanted the red Tomoe for Shades of Black. I can use the Black Hole one, it certainly fits considering everything, but I had something else in mind for it.

Rah rah rah give me my red.

[that-one-dude]

Reporter: Where's Clark?

Superman: Oh I dropped him off somewhere safe, he says he might take the time to bring donuts for the office as apologies for missing a bit of work. Ah, that humble farm boy.

Reporter: ..okay what about Bruce Wayne?

Batman: Rich snob thinks he's better than us and ran off.

Oh he thinks he's so funny

[syoddeye]

consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

~~

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

~~

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’. 

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger. 

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.” 

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?” 

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains. 

“i mean, this part’s weird.” 

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect. 

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.” 

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”  

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

[cuntdevil]

★ ONE KISS AWAY FROM LOSING YOU!

THIS JUST IN . . . nanami kento has been caught booking a hotel room with a mystery person. we couldn't capture a clear photo of the person, but it's definitely someone not in the royal family's caliber. who could it be?

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, nanami kento, angst & sexually explicit | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 2100 words.

╰┈➤ prince!nanami kento, afab!reader (she/they), nickname: love/my love, secret relationship, pleasure dom!nanami, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, praise, not proofread.

( author's note. ) while writing this, i thought of the song, like i'm gonna lose you by meghan trainor featuring john legend. and honestly, that's the entire vibe for this fic.

A SECRET ROMANCE BREWING? NANAMI KENTO CAUGHT WITH A MYSTERY BEAUTY!

By Gojo Satoru | Sunday, May 5, 2024 | 01:30 PM EST

While the past few months have been a bit lackluster when it comes to the Nanami’s, this week I’m happy to report something very enticing to our readers’ eyes. Just two days ago, the young prince, Nanami Kento, was seen entering the extravagant hotel, the Renaissance, with a hand clutching onto his forearm. Not dressed in his usual pristine attire, I nearly missed him, but I’d  recognized those bulking arms and stark blonde hairs from anywhere. (It was also his signature round glasses that gave him away.) 

The mystery beauty by his side, however, was able to keep a much more discrete profile. With a hoodie on, they kept their heads down as they entered the beautiful hotel. With some dignity and honor, I had left the two alone to enjoy their time together (and because the prince is quick on his toes), but it’s no doubt what they’re going to do. Nanami Kento is regularly discussed as a man that goes by the books. Rarely shed in any negative light— minus the rumors that he’s a stuck up snob and thinks highly of himself— people have been speculating when this clean streak of his would come to an end. I’m just happy I’m the one to document it. 

For more news on the world of the royals, rich and famous, please subscribe to our newsletters or download our app through Gyomei Plays for a discounted price of $0.15/month. Get sizzling news on not just the Nanami family, but hear on what Duchess Maki is up to and about her solitary confinement after murdering the majority of her family after the passing of her late twin Zenin Mai, or snoop into rising Indie artist, Geto Suguru, and how his new album is turning out. I hope to bring you more tantalizing articles very soon. (Hopefully unveiling the mystery partner of ex-goody-too-shoes Nanami Kento.)

—

MAY 3, 2024

Nanami Kento has never been in love before. Has never allowed himself to. He knew that this life he was born into wouldn’t allow for it. Keeping his heart chained and locked, he couldn’t quite understand just how you managed to find the key. And his mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of just how easily he had given in to you. 

Is it because of your glistening smile that your eyes and lips that you did when he first met you? A simple waitress that was doing their job in the fancy restaurant that his parents had reserved a table for. His parents had requested for the best and in return, had gotten you. The dark bags under your eyes was enough evidence of your exhaustion, yet you kept such a relaxed yet kind tone even when his parents were snipping at you. They could never be satisfied. 

Is it your voice and how you carried such a melodic laugh? He had made a comment about one of the choices on the menu, making a snide remark about oysters and just how he couldn’t escape them. It was under his breath. Truthfully, he didn’t expect you to hear it, but you did and you had let out the cutest laugh with a subtle snort at the end that led his parents to grimace. However, the two corners of his lips had curved upwards and he started showing more interest.

Is it because even in dim lighting, you still managed to shine? That while he broke his internal promise with himself as he got to know you, no matter where the two of you went, you managed to be the center of attention is his mind? From renting out places for the day to spend time with you to booking hotel rooms to enjoy the night in each other’s arms, he’s come to memorize every course of your body. He’s memorized every curve and every angle that he needs to put you in for the light to hit just right to continue to make you flourish. 

Even in moments like this, where he’s checked the both of you in and has led you upstairs. Making a few wrong turns before arriving at the room and hastily opening the door, where he gently pushes you on the bed and captures you with the length of his body. He switches on the bed lamp because he wants to see you. He wants to look into your eyes as he breaks his promise over and over again, falling deeper for someone that he knows that in the end, he’ll have to let go.

—

No matter how habitual it is, you find yourself giggling into the gentle and feathery kisses Nanami places on your lips. And no matter how habitual your giggling is, Nanami can’t help but peer down at you every time you do so. The way your nose would scrunch together as your small laughs make his heart race. From small pecks to elicit more sounds to swallowing them up and dragging a moan out of you instead. One hand that caresses your face while the next holds onto your waist, traveling down to unbutton your pants. Loosening its grasp, Nanami dips his hands between the hem of your pants and underwear, feeling your bare skin against the palm of his hands. Your stomach tenses with anticipation as you continue to kiss him back.

Your hands tangle into his blonde locks, squirming underneath Nanami as he nears your core. Yet, he stops right as he’s a mere centimeter away, dragging his hand out and gripping onto the fabric of your bottoms. You whine despite his tugging against your clothes, wanting the touch of his fingers against your cunt— to feel his thick digits stretch your tight walls. Just the thought alone has your arousal seeping through the crotch of your underwear as your hips forcibly rise above the sheets as Nanami pulls off the tight-fitted pants. 

“God,” he huffs. “As much as I love these on you, I hate the trouble I’m going through to remove them.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not as strong as you look, big boy,” you jest, gently jabbing at his chest; his still clothed chest that vibrates as he chuckles. And while he might say your smile is glistening, his is your entire world. Such a stoic man portrayed by the media, you consider every chance you get to make him smile a blessing. Just as hard as Nanami’s falling hard for you, you’re trapped in the clutches of how strong your love for him is as well. You yearn for him just as much as he does— if not more. 

It’s not because of his socioeconomic status within society. It’s because of his brown eyes that are like a hot cup of coffee. Piping hot as just one sip will rejuvenate every bone in your body, giving you the energy to keep going. When you stare into them, it’s as if your lifespan has extended exponentially. He’s given you life. That itself is all the power that you need.

So attentive and genuine with each and every action he makes. You don’t care about the price tag listed upon every gift he’s given you, but the practicality and meaning each of them have. He’s listened to you, followed all of your “pointless” ramblings about the things you like and dislike. He’s shown interest in all of your hobbies and quirks, and in return you do the same. And whether or not you both end up liking it, you both enjoy the quality time spent together. Because who knows how long this will last.

“You’re right,” Nanami chuckles in agreement. “I’m always weak when it comes to you.”

You shutter before whispering, “I hate how you can make something so corny sound so seductive.”

With yet another chuckle, he leans down; his lips ghost yours. “I try.”

—

You’ve come to realize that Nanami is a relentless man. Two strong hands that have your legs pinned up and pressed to your chest. A painful and compromising position, your muscles ache as your pussy is exposed all for Nanami to inspect. Brown eyes that seem captivated and mesmerized by how your juices have clung to your folds, making your cunt shine like porcelain. You crane your head to look down at him, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watch his thumb press down on your clit.

Your heart beat rises, pattering heavily against your chest as you watch the man dip lower to taste your pussy. A chaste kiss planted before his tongue teases and prods at your hole. A hum that reverberates against his chest as he instantaneously decides— delectable. His lips that pucker around your clit, sucking on your dark nub as your mouth falls open and your head falls back. Your toes curl as you feel Nanami knead at the skin of your thighs while simultaneously eating away at you. His eyes have fluttered shut to further savor your taste. 

His tongue explores your caverns and you pulsate around the feeling, closing your eyes shut to engrave this moment in your soul. You mewl and whine, calling out his name in such prosody.  Your hands travel to tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging at them as your pleasure grows stronger. Nanami grunts at the pain you cause. 

Eyes opening, you peer down at Nanami, watching how his muscles flex and contract as he holds you down. How he has his face buried between your legs as he laps up your pussy with an insatiable need. He barely comes to a stop before one of his hands leaves the comfortable position of holding you up to slot in between your lips. Two thick digits that glide in between your folds, collecting your juices before prodding right at your entrance. You clench needily as you wait in anticipation for the stretch they’re going to give you. Mewling out his name “Kento” in such a way before your grip on his hair tightens. You don’t have to say anything else. The tone in your voice is all that he needs to decipher what you want— you want more. And Nanami Kento is always too willing to give you whatever you want. He’d give you the world. 

Two knuckles deep into your pussy, the juices of your cunt seeping into the fabric that Nanami feels bad for the maid that’ll be left to clean up their sex-induced mess. You squirm in his hold, back slightly arching despite the hold he has on you with one arm. His fingers thrust in and out of your sex, unrelenting as he’s determined to bring you to yet another orgasm. Such a messy process unbefitting for a prince, but the lust tinting his eyes lets you know there’s no going back from this. 

“Kento,” you cry out, feeling his fingers curl inside you. Your swollen clit is still in the mouth of a dragon as he claws at the insides of your walls. “‘S too much! Please— please!”

Your words say one thing while your body says another. Your hands push him closer to your mound despite your squirming, an internal battle that you’re having with yourself. And sometimes he’s convinced himself that only he knows just what you need. He breaks away for a moment, lust-blown eyes with your slick coating the bottom half of his face. Nanami says, “it’s okay. I know you can take it. I know you take whatever I give you.”

His voice dips, becoming deeper than it already is. It has your stomach coiling as you feel that familiar heat as your nails dig into his scalp. Against your pussy, he breathes, “Fuck.”

“‘M g’nna— I’m—” 

Nanami coos, silencing you as your lips tremble. “Shhh… It’s okay, love. I got you.”

Your mouth goes dry, only able to croak out a few undecipherable noises before you’re cumming against his tongue. Nanami laps up your taste, cleaning you up with the pink muscle inside his mouth. When you come down from your high, your voice trembles as you mutter, “Kento, I love you.”

His heart pounds against his chest. While not the first time you’ve said this, it still elicits this reaction. He stammers, not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he does, too. He’s just got too much. “As do I, my love.”

—

“Y’feel so good,” Nanami breathes in the crevice of your neck, hips thrusting back and forth as your moans and whines fuel the room. “You always feel so good.”

His once perfectly kempt is now messy, hanging over as he rises from the crook of your neck. A hand comes up to caress your face as his brown eyes meet yours, staring at each other with such heavy longing. “Gosh, you’re so beautiful.” Your eyes crinkle, welling up with tears that threaten to spill. You can’t quite identify the reason for them. Are they for this overwhelming amount of love or is it for the fear of the future? “So are you, my prince.”

・SIDE NOTE: nanami as a prince ? hicks & sniffles in one breath, goes feral and bat shit crazy in the next. im not well.

[variety-fangirl]

Thinking about bodyguard!tsf141 x rich daughter reader. I'm imagining that Taskforce 141 has come back from their missions and decided to retire early after having many conversations about being done and just wanting to relax. They've done their fair share of time and sacrificed so much that, let's be honest, they fucking deserve it. Eventually, they leave and settle down in a nice home built to house the four behemoth sized men, out in the middle of nowhere and away from society. They have trucks to go grocery shopping when needed and use their spare time to pick up a hobby of interest to them each. But let's face it, they would all go stir crazy after so many years of being in wars and doing the unthinkable. Quiet is not something their used to.

So, they decided to pick up a job suited to them all that wouldn't get boring. They decide on being bodyguards, special trained bodyguards for the elites, and rich snobs. Do they like the rich? No, no, they do not. But, it's a familiar ground of some kind, and they'll feel most comfortable in familiarity. Hey, at least the pay will be good. Not that they need it, but every little helps.

So, they get everything set up and make a name for themselves. A big name at that. Where the top dogs notice and they become popular and sought after in the field. I mean, it really didn't take long or a lot of hard work. Their good at what they do, and they know it, too. So good, in fact, that one of the richest men in the country hears word of them and requests a meeting. After all, being as rich as he is, you make enemies. Powerful enemies that are not afraid to go to the extreme to get what they want, your empire that you've built on drugs, money, and the blood of said enemies and others.

They were, of course, expecting the security detail to be for himself, but when they turn up at said meeting, the guy is surrounded by guards. Big ones at that. Not as big as them but close. He's secured to the nine, as is his home. So naturally their confused. If its not for him, then for whom?

That's when your father explains about you. The prize of his life, his beautiful and single (unprotected as he put it), daughter. One who is headstrong, stubborn, and stands her ground. Only agreeing to have a security detail if you get to choose them. Naturally, when your father had shown you lists upon lists of potential bodyguards, you snided at them all. None of them had the experience you were looking for, ones that you could genuinely trust with your life. And wouldn't try to control you like your fathers choices had or reported your every little move to him. So when you stumbled upon their profiles, you immediately knew they were the right choice.

Upon hearing your name called by your father, you entered the room. You were pleasantly surprised by the sheer size of them all, overpowering and swallowing the expensive sofa they sat upon. You didn't try to hide your smile. Instead, you kept your eyes on them and studied their every move. You were entranced by them. Their big, burly, and rough exteriors of pure muscles and scars. Men who'd been through and seen things that people should not, their eyes haunted by the ghosts of those they had killed or had been killed from their mistakes. They were everything you wanted and didn't know you needed.

And they were not expecting you to walk into the room. You whose face was like a beautiful angel, soft and gentle, and a presence that commanded the room, but eyes that held such horrors. Eyes of a soul who had suffered and witnessed things you should not have. Someone who, from the moment they set their sights upon you, gave them an overwhelming rush and need to protect you.

"We'll take the job."

[yuyu1024]

Honeymoon

Pairings: Wonwoo × y/n

Genre/tags: marriage, non idol

Warning: fluff, not really smut but suggestive, pet names, cursing, semi-public

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N:

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

It's honeymoom trip to Italy. And here you are sitting by the pool of the vacation house your husband rented, alone and lonely.

He have been very preoccupied. It's not by choice but something terrible happened in the business that needed his attention. Being the boss, the son of the owner of their company, he is expected to be present on meetings so he have been on his laptop most of the time.

So to break down what your schedule have been so far is:

Day 1 was a bit okay. You guy arrived, slept and ate a lot. Also luckily to have the night time to yourselves where you got to have a date night and walk around with him and also make love before crashing to dreamland.

Day 2, phew, that started very hectic. He got the call from Korea and everything spiralled. It ruined his mood and then he had to say sorry to you. Even you had a call from home, from his parents explaining what happened so... its. Alright. You are sort of used to it. You've dated him for awhile so, you've seen some of it already

Day 3, still hectic but this day, finally he have time to eat and breathe. Though he still stayed at your room and been on calls.

Day 4, today... it's boring now. Well for you. You've finished the book you started reading yesterday and you've gonne shopping already as well. You want your man. You need your husband. So funny how you miss him even though he is just in the room.

You've had enough. You need to do something or else, he will continue working.

***

[Wonwoo's phone buzzes]

💖: i miss you.

💖: pls come and join me here at the pool.

🖤: almost done.

You pout as you see his response. You are not happy. So in exchange of being disappointed, you decide to trigger him.

Wonwoo is a very shy, timid and proper person. He is very put together. Though He look cold or a snob because most of the time because of how he carries himself around other people; Wonwoo is still a gentle, sweet, caring and kind person. But one thing most people don't know about him nor even his parents probably is how conservative he is. Especially when it comes to you.

His main reason why is, he does not want to share you. Your body is his only. No other person have the right to see, touch or even admire from afar. He is protective like that.

So to make him come down to you quick, you take a very risky video by the pool. A video of you removing your long white lace kimono revealing your white two piece bathing suite. And then teasing him by pulling the string around your neck, showing him a nip slip. On purpose.

💖: [video sent]

You smile proudly as you see him view it the second it got received.

[Phone buzzes]

"What the fuck are you doing?" He sounds pissed

"Sunbathing..." you mumble as you lay down your back on your lounge chair. "My husband is busy... he prefers to do meetings than to spend time with me on our honeymoon..."

He sighs heavily. "Y/N... you know why..."

"I know." Now you sound bitter. "But isn't two days enough? And by your secretary's report everything is doing well now right?"

"It is... I just--"

"What you're doing now is your regular work. And you chose to work than to spend time with me." You are more pissed than you thought you were. "Maybe you should just fuck your work and then give birth to more workaholics mini you. Ugh!" You got up from laying down and then end the call before throwing your phone inside your straw bag. "I should just probably fly back then..." you mumble to yourself

You angrily slide your feet into your sandals, put on your kimono on and drag your straw bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" He emerges from the door, finally.

You roll your eyes away and stomp your way into the house, walking pass him. Dramatic but it felt right while doing it.

"Y/N... honey..." he calls as he follows you to wherever you are moving to.

You enter your shared bedroom, saw that his laptop is still on the desk. "I'm just going to get dress." You say while sounding more disappointed that ever. You also looked like a child that their parents said no when you ask for a treat. "I changed my mind about swimming..."

"Honey..." Wonwoo holds you by the waist, stopping you from entering the walk in closet. "Don't." He snakes his arms around you and kisses your neck from behind.

"You just want me to go swimming so I'll leave you alone in our room... so you can work..." your snort. "Maybe we should've not went on honeymoon then."

"Stop... please..." he hugs you. "I'm sorry... I got carried away... I'm not used to having vacation... I went overboard... I admit it... so please... forgive me..." he turns you around to face him. "Please?"

You stare at your husband. His hair is still messy and he is still in his pajamas. "Turn off your laptop and phone then..." you pout. "They can handle it on their own... we just have a few days left here before we leave..."

"Okay." He says, smiling

"Promise?"

"Promise." He hums before kissing you on the tip of your nose. "So... should we go and swim now?"

You try to surpress you excitment but you can't really hide it which made Wonwoo chuckle.

"My wife is so darn cute." He says before scooping you off the floor. You yelped by the sudden action but you automatically put your arms around his neck.

***

However, instead of actuallt swimming around the pool, your husband instead just cornered you in the pool and didn't stopped making out with you.

He started from rubbing your arms to help you warm up a little because the water is cold to rubbing his pelvis in you whilst sucking your soul through your mouth. He does not even care that his glasses got splashed by the water. He is just focused on kissing you and skimming your body with his hands.

"Honey..." you breathe as he goes to your neck and nibble your skin, inch by inch.

"Hmm...?" He does not stop kissing your skin. He even reached your collar bone and then shoulder

"I thought we're swimming..." you giggle

He stops and looks at you. "We are at the pool right?" His lips curves into this cheeky smile. "For me, we are swimming..." he adds before going back to kissing your neck

"But honey..." you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands laying flat on his broad shoulders. "The pool is so big... its a shame we don't do a few dive or... float on that cute little pineapple floaty."

He sighs whilst his lips is still on your skin. "Why? Do you want to show everybody your body?"

"Honey... you know we're alone right?"

He tilts his head to the side, acting like he does not know. Or does he really?

"Wonwoo... seriously?" You pinch his cheeks. "We're alone at this house... the staffs only comes in the morning up to two in the afternoon."

"Oh."

"See? You being so busy that you already forgot what they told us on day1."

He licks his lips and a smirk spreads across his lips. "That's good then..."

"Hm? Why--"

He crashes his lips again to you but this time its more aggressive. And his hands, its not just sensually skimming your body now. It has more intentions than that.

"Ugh!" Your mouth suddenly drops open, eyes in pure shock and also lust when his fingers starts rubbing your clit. "Wo...Wonwoo..." you breathe

"Your mine..." he says before he goes lower so he could reach for your chest area. "All mine." He kisses your exposed skin under that swimsuit and he leaves a very very big mark after he sucked your skin.

You arch your back a little and spread your arms around the rim of the pool. And then you lift both your legs to wrap around his waist.

"Do you want me to continue, honey?" He asks

You nod. "Please..."

He pulls the string of your buttom, revealing you under water. "We don't need this." He waves your undies and then throws it to the nearest lounge chair. "And probably, we don't need thid either..." his palms your tits over the thin cover. "This is barely covering your beautiful tits..." he says

"I only wore it for you...." you say before planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, teasing him as well down there. "Your hard." You whisper while you squeeze him.

"How can I not? I have my beautiful wife in front of me... wanting me..." he cups your face and kisses you. Slow and sensual. "Maybe we should get out of the pool and find a more comfortable place... I can't still risk anyone... hearing my wife moan... its for me to hear and enjoy only..."

[badperson-8]

Butting In (Part 1) Lucifer, Mammon, Levi

Male/AMAB MC finds an intriguing sex toy – a magical fleshlight, which is automatically connected to the body of whoever haunts their sexual fantasies. How will each brother react if MC succumbs to the temptation and uses the device?

amabMC x Lucifer, amabMC x Mammon, amabMC x Levi

3.5k words | NSFW | Porn without plot | gn!pronouns MC | AO3 link

Content Warnings: Dub-con | Anal Sex

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

Lucifer

Lucifer sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He’s been sent to the House of Lords on behalf of Lord Diavolo for a brief check of their quarterly financial report. But what should’ve taken him at most two hours, stretched into several-hours torture, due to the incompetence of these noble fools. The accounting department did their best to analyze and categorize all the expenses, but Lords were so utterly incapable of providing any reasonable data in time that the finished report turned out to be an incoherent mess.

So now Lucifer is stuck in a place full of insufferable snobs, damned to do their job instead of them. At least the most excruciating part is over: he had to personally collect all the additional papers from each Lord, and now he only needs to compare the numbers. The demon has already sent all the accountants away; if they didn’t succeed the first time, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be of any use. Lucifer prefers to work alone anyway.

The only two things that motivate him right now are a huge cup of the strongest coffee ever known to demons and potential revenge. If Lucifer manages to find any traces of financial machinations, Lord Diavolo will take this matter into his own hands. And when he’s on the case, it’s useless to hide behind the high status of a noble. The Future King deals with problems swiftly and mercilessly.

Lucifer smirks, takes a sip of coffee, and focuses on the documents in his hands. The demon occupied the office of one of the Lords after he unceremoniously kicked out the owner. The room has too many golden decorations for Lucifer’s liking, but at least the chair is comfortable enough. The soft rustle of papers and the rhythmical ticking of the clock help him concentrate and ignore intrusive thoughts about one particular human who waits for him at home… Perhaps there are actually three things that motivate Lucifer right now, but his pride will never let him admit it.

A sudden shiver runs along Lucifer’s body, making him twitch and almost spill all the coffee on the documents. The demon immediately lets go of the cup and straightens up, trying to figure out what the hell happened. But Lucifer doesn’t spot anything unusual, only the same ticking of the clock breaks the silence of an empty room.  

The second shiver strikes him just as suddenly. This time it’s stronger, it pierces his mind and makes him grab the edge of the table, looking for support. Lucifer feels the ghost touches on his body, which concentrate on his backside. He unconsciously presses his hips against the seat in an attempt to hide his delicate parts from the unknown intruder. But to no avail. The unstoppable force concentrates on his most vulnerable part of the body, pressing inside and massaging the tensed walls of his entrance.

Lucifer bites his lower lip, trying to contain all the embarrassing noises deep within; a thin stream of blood runs down his chin and lands on one of the documents, staining it and coloring the white pages red. His trembling hand wipes off tiny drops of sweat from his forehead.

The Avatar of Pride is not capable of panicking, as simple as that. He has everything under control, no matter what happens. But now, for the first time in eternity, Lucifer doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and confused; the burning desire to twist the neck of whoever does this to him and the baffling temptation to submit to these new sensations are tearing him apart.

Lucifer chooses the first option, concentrating his magic on the faint traces of the curse that makes him lose control over his body. The demon frowns as he mentally untangles the magical energies and reaches the source of the disturbance.

It’s MC, it’s their life force, their magical energy. Lucifer senses the power of some kind of artifact nearby, but its magic doesn’t look dangerous. The demon sighs, letting his tensed muscles finally relax. He feels an all-consuming relief at the thought of MC being the one who’s behind this. It’s them, they are responsible for all this nonsense. Of course, who else would it be? He should’ve figured it out sooner.  

A gentle pressure on his insides continues, it seems MC doesn’t use the artifact to its full potential yet, preferring to check the toy with their fingers. Lucifer leans back in his chair and spreads his long legs apart. He could fly all the way to the House of Lamentation, confiscate this suspiciously powerful artifact, and lecture them for several hours straight, but…

Lucifer’s line of thought is interrupted by a sudden sensation of some liquid inside him. The demon frowns harder as he feels his cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. He closes his eyes, not to see how his hand unzips his pants and lets out his neglected boner. He doesn’t want to accept this. Lucifer shouldn’t be so agreeable towards the fact that he is being used as a sex toy. Even if it’s MC who does that. Stroking his dick to such foul sensations feels almost like a betrayal of his Pride. He should ignore his urges and…

The touch of a much bigger object feels shocking, no matter how much Lucifer anticipated dreaded the next stage of MC’s curiosity. It feels so much hotter than their fingers; it stretches him open inch by inch without meeting any resistance from Lucifer’s body. He breathes out sharply and tries to stop his hips from trembling. What a disgrace.

Lucifer clenches his fists, stubbornly ignoring his own growing excitement. But despite his efforts, his thighs spread even wider, chasing the feeling of the hot and pulsating flesh, magically conjured to bring Lucifer pleasure. The damn artifact is too good at recreating MC’s dick, too good at imitating all the deep thrusts. The demon can bear this for only so long. He snarls, grabs his dick, and starts stocking it with hungry desperation.

A quiet moan escapes Lucifer’s lips, but he immediately shuts his mouth with his hand, trying to save at least some dignity. The quicker the pushes become, the more difficult it is to contain all the moans. As Lucifer feels MC coming inside him, he bites his hand as hard as possible to muffle the final embarrassing sound. He growls as his fangs pierce his own skin, and his dick finally releases.

It takes him some time to regain his senses. The rhythmical ticking of the clock slowly returns Lucifer to reality. The demon silently stares at the pile of documents, now partially covered not only with his blood but also his sperm. He lifts his trembling hand and snaps his fingers to set the whole pile ablaze.

…They say that after one of the offices in the House of Lords burned down, together with important documents, the whole establishment had to work overtime to restore the lost data. It’s still unknown what exactly happened; some rumors mentioned a black-winged demon flying out of the office’s window in the direction of the House of Lamentation. But the strangest event that surpassed even the fire in one of the core institutions of the Devildom was no doubt the fact that, despite the sudden calamity and overdue financial report, Lucifer was walking around with a huge, bright smile on his face.

Mammon

Mammon is in deep shit. For real this time. He breathes heavily, peeking at five demons from around the corner. He sighs with relief as they march past his hiding spot and lovingly presses a giant bag full of money to his chest.

From Mammon’s perspective, this whole situation is exclusively the fault of these stupid morons. Who the hell keeps their money in cash nowadays?! These idiots were simply begging to rob them. How could Mammon say no? He will use the money better than they ever could anyway. MC was saying something about a new phone…

Mammon quietly swears and squats behind a dumpster, merging with the shadows. One of the demons returned and is now standing uncomfortably close to his hiding spot. Mammon needs to get out of here before they find him. He should make a run for it once the path is clear.

He squats lower, firmly hugging the bag in his hands. And he almost falls on his ass once he feels some kind of movement inside this very ass. Mammon shivers from disgust at the thought that he seems to be infected by damn tapeworms. He knew that a dinner at that shady restaurant was a bad idea. But seriously, how many are there? Or is it one thick-ass worm? It sure feels like it.

Despite his struggles, Mammon does his best to keep an eye on the demon next to him. They seem to have taken a break from the chase and are now simply smoking a cigarette.

Mammon can’t wait for too long, he needs to escape now while he has this chance. It seems he has to use just a little bit of violence. This demon is relaxed and completely unaware of their surroundings; it will be easy to jump them and knock them out within seconds. Gently, of course. Mammon quietly cackles as he slowly approaches the demon, still half-squatting and holding the bag in one hand.

But just as Mammon is ready to commit yet another crime, the fucking worm starts squirming again. The demon quietly moans, then immediately slams his mouth with his hand. The loud slap almost alerts the smoking demon, but they shrug it off.

“Must’ve been the wind.” They mumble, lifting their head and glaring at the stars. The sky is so beautiful today.

Meanwhile, just several feet away from the romantic demon, Mammon is having a mental breakdown. What the hell was that? No, Mammon didn’t just moan thanks to some stupid parasites, it’s a blatant lie. He tosses the bag on the ground and tries to turn his torso backwards to check his butt. It doesn’t help in the slightest since his jeans cover everything, so Mammon can only stare at his ass with disapproval.

His whole body suddenly shivers, making him drop to his knees and close his mouth with a hand once again. He feels something sticky and moist inside. At first, this strange sensation bothered only his asshole, but now it’s spreading deeper, all the way inside…

Mammon blinks away a single tear, trying not to panic. His medical condition is certainly dire, maybe he’s even dying. No, Great Mammon won’t die from some stupid worms, or whatever this is! He’ll find a cure; he just needs to escape first. MC will have to wait for a new phone a little longer, though; it seems that all the money will be spent on Mammon’s medical bills…

A sudden pressure on his asshole sends goosebumps all over Mammon’s body. He has to cover his mouth with his second hand, falling all the way to the ground. He’s now lying on his stomach, trying to regain his senses. Mammon feels something pushing inside him. His legs tremble, losing all their strength. His brain is trying to process everything that is happening but completely gives up once the ass gets attacked by powerful thrusts. Mammon’s erection is pressed uncomfortably to the ground through his jeans. He can’t even change the position, or at least take off his pants, since his body has fully betrayed him. The violent shivers shake Mammon’s body; he spends his last energy keeping his hands close to his mouth. Otherwise, the whole neighborhood will hear his whimpers.

Mammon’s mind is completely shut down, maybe as a way of precaution. At least the poor demon can’t reflect on the whole situation and be terrified of being either hopelessly ill or cursed. He can only focus on deep thrusts that hit his prostate over and over. The only thing that bothers him right now is his dick, still trapped in his jeans. He presses his hips closer to the ground to get at least some friction.

Mammon closes his eyes, breathing heavily into his hands. He’s so close, just a little more…

He’s suddenly being filled with something so hot that it heats up his insides; his ass unconsciously starts to greedily absorb this mysterious substance. Mammon trembles violently as he finally comes all over his pants. His last vocal moans break through the shield of his hands, shattering the surrounding silence.

As Mammon slowly returns to reality, he feels that his ass is now completely fine. He also feels that he is now surrounded by five angry demons who are ready to beat the shit out of him.

…MC is caressing Mammon’s soft hair as the demon complains to them about his rotten luck. He managed to escape in the end, which was a miracle, even with his abilities to run faster than anyone in the Devildom. The demons didn’t succeed in hurting him, but they took all their money back. Mammon doesn’t care that much about the money, though, being much more concerned about the possible disease. And MC just silently pats his hair, gathering their courage to tell Mammon about that one cool thing they found… And how it can actually be responsible for all of today’s misadventures.

Leviathan

Levi is bursting with excitement as he strolls around the comic-con. The amount of merch for all his favorite shows is simply unbelievable; and all the talented cosplayers make him wish he wasn’t such a shut-in otaku. To take a photo with any of them would be like a dream come true, but he’ll reach this major milestone some other time. He already has a huge reason to be proud of himself today.

Few reasons, actually. First of all, he came to this comic-con alone. All alone! Him! That’s right, he doesn’t need to ask Beel or Satan to come with him anymore. He doesn’t need any emotional support to come to this place, full of people… scary strangers… maybe they all think that he’s gross… or he smells bad…

Levi shakes his head, using his personal method of overcoming such anxiety attacks. All he needs to do is imagine MC, who holds him by the hand and smiles brightly at him. Yeah, that’s better. They always do this when he’s about to panic. Levi can’t give up, he promised that he’d have fun on his own.

The demon sighs, wishing MC was here with him. Lucifer forbade them to leave the house after they broke something when they were fooling around with Mammon. Levi frowns: this greedy scumbag always finds a way to mess with him, and now Levi has to spend the day all alone. Mammon ruined their date, and…

No-no-no-no, it wasn’t supposed to be a date, alright?! It WASN’T! Levi just offered MC to come with him, that’s all. He didn’t actually hope… That would be just silly, right?! Right…

Levi shakes his head once again, adjusting his stockings. Heels are not so bad, but these stockings are constantly trying to fall down. Maybe his legs are too skinny for this…

Hm? Oh yeah, that’s actually the second reason why Levi should be proud of himself. When he finally decided to invite MC on a da-… to hang out, he decided to consult with the professional, namely Asmo. He gave him some strange advices, like not eating too much during the day to avoid getting too dirty down “there”. Levi didn’t know where “there” was exactly, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. Other than that, Asmo had some great ideas: he assured Levi that MC would really appreciate it if he showed them his true passion. Specifically, if Levi put on his Ruri-chan costume, with stockings and all.

This idea got him really inspired; Levi spent several days preparing the costume for the show. So when the da-… the hangout was cancelled, he couldn’t just leave the costume at home. So he quickly made a giant sign “No photos, No touching, No interactions”, and came to the comic-con dressed in his pink dress.

Levi has never been prouder of himself. Despite everything, he paid homage to his favorite character. He wishes MC could see him right now…

“Ngh…” Levi winces, almost dropping his sign to the ground. His thighs firmly press together, slightly shaking from a sudden, unknown sensation between them. The demon blushes heavily and sprints to the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls.

He tosses the sign on the floor, lifts his skirt, and tries to inspect the area beneath. Levi did his best to make Ruri-chan’s costume as authentic as possible, which obviously included the right type of underwear. So now the demon carefully gropes his hips, covered with pink silk panties, in search of anything unusual.

His fingers dig into the silky fabric as he feels a strong tremble that concentrates in the area of his butt. He almost tears his underwear with his claws, trying to fight the unexpected weakness in his knees and not fall to the floor.

Levi gathers his strength, reaches the toilet lid, smashes it closed, and lands on it, breathing heavily. He would have never thought that it would be so hard to do such mundane actions, but he feels exhaustion after this little feat. He’s so confused by the riot of his own body that he doesn’t know what to think. Levi feels something slowly pushing inside, stretching him carefully. The only thing that prevents him from starting to seriously freak out is the fact that this unknown force immediately finds his weak spot.

The demon loudly screeches as something starts applying more pressure to his prostate. His dick already peeks out of the pink panties, leaving wet stains on the underwear and the skirt.

“Excuse me? Are you all right?” Someone knocks at the door of Levi’s stall, making him freeze. He squeezes his skirt in frustration as he shakily replies:

“Y-y-yes.”

That’s the best he can do, but luckily the stranger finds this reply passable and leaves him alone. Levi feels as his butt and asshole get covered in something sticky and warm, and he shivers in terror and anticipation. Wait, “anticipation”? No, Levi doesn’t enjoy this insane situation, not at all!

But self-reflection can wait. If the pushes renew, his voice will betray him again. And if this happens, the whole comic-con will hear him, and he certainly can’t let this happen! Levi needs to find something to block all the sounds ASAP. He looks around, trying to find something useful, but there aren’t many things in toilet stalls. Maybe something on him… Oh!

A genius idea graciously visits him. One of the main pieces of Ruri-chan’s clothing is, no doubt, her cute pink hat. Levi mentally apologizes to Ruri-chan for using her iconic hat in that way, takes it off, and shoves it in his mouth.

Just in time for a new stage of thrusts to start. This time they are much more intense. Levi feels how his fangs tear the soft fabric of his precious hat. But his idea mostly works: all his moans and whines are muffled, they are just quiet enough not to alert other people. He grabs his skirt, panties, his own thighs – anything other than his dick. Levi doesn’t want to do it like this. Not in the toilet stall, surrounded by strangers. Not in the Ruri-chan’s dress. Not without MC…

Levi slightly relaxes as his thoughts concentrate on MC. If he imagines that it’s them who inserts their dick inside him, he’ll manage to get through it. His brain successfully tricks itself, almost actually making him believe that it’s MC who is behind this cruel joke. If it’s them, it’s all right, Levi thinks, and allows himself to touch his neglected cock.

He strokes it desperately, focusing on his vivid fantasy of MC. His hole starts pulsating eagerly as he dives into his imagination. Whatever is on the other side must’ve felt how welcoming his hole became; the thrusts get faster and harder, almost making Levi fall from the toilet seat to the floor. He quickens the pace of his strokes to match the impatient pushes, squeezing the hat in his mouth with all his might.

He comes the moment he feels the hot release of an unknown entity inside him. Colorful circles flood his vision, leaving him completely strengthless. He tries to catch his breath, lazily thinking about the ruined costume, especially the pink panties he accidentally tore up. Now he needs to somehow clean up and hurry home, seeking refuge in MC’s arms. He’ll never go to any event without them again.

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

P.S. The art doesn't belong to me, it's an official art from Shall We Date: Obey Me! (You, Me and Devil's Coast card)

[genz420]

Cabin 12 Headcannons 🍇 🎭

Masterlist | Rules

Content: Cabin 12 headcanons

Warning: Memiton of addiction, but Dionysus is the god of wine so..

The cabin with the closest siblings in my opinion

I feel like Mr. D would only have 2-4 demigods at a time

So that leads to them being super close

They all tend to have the same features of curly hair and purple eyes

A dead giveaway to who is their parent

They would all tend to be on the bigger side

Not that they are not strong, they are 

But they would not have the typical Greek god look

Their beauty would be intoxicating though

Like the type of beauty where it’s obvious god is real because it’s not fair

Best hair in camp tbh

Also, Mr. D claiming them would be totally different from his usual trick with demigods and trying to get wine

Just straight up points at them and announces that they are his spawn 

Some are the typical party-lover extroverts who can make friends with anyone and everyone

Then there are the theatre lovers introverts who have a close group of friends but when it comes time for the play of the summer they give the best performance that the camp would ever see

Mr. D def makes the camp do plays

He is the god of wine and theatre and can’t have wine

Would force the campers to do theatre to make them just as unhappy as he is

Big English teacher making students read Shakespeare vibes from him

Not Drama teacher vibes

But no matter what kind of kid they are, they would totally memorize Hamilton to spit the Hermes cabin

Because Hermes is Lin-Manuel Miranda 

They are rolling with the LGBT+

Whether queer themselves or the biggest ally ever

They are also the campers who give the best advice and the type of friends who are always the go-to shoulder to cry on

They are the Camp therapists. Let's be real

I feel like they would get along best with the Demeter, Apollo, and Aphrodite cabins

They have the best relationship with their godly parent

Because no one can convince me that Dionysus doesn’t love his children 

I feel like they would either have a horrible sense of direction or the best because of Ariadne

Addiction gene goes hard

Might not be to a substance, but they all definitely have that one thing they can’t live without

Especially have one drink that they love

I like to think that they all have a thirst that can’t be quenched unless it’s with that one drink

Also, they have the best or worst palates ever

Like that one person who only eats chicken nuggets and fries or the one who will eat everything and be a snob about it

They are cat people, not dog

Would definitely be responsible for the export of Strawberries 

Bec even if the Demeter cabins help, when a Dionysus kid grows the strawberries it is hard to stop eating them

The most unserious counsellors in camp

Would definitely take a bribe not to report something 

Because their dad ain't going to do shit in punishing them

Chiron might tho

Also, the worst people to play cards with

They def cheat and win 

But if they are not winning they become the biggest sore losers 

Uno is banned in the cabin for sure

Dionysus demigods are the best for the reason of not having daddy issues in a camp where everyone has daddy issues in some way

They can’t shit-talk their dad

He’s right there

I also think most of them get to camp at a young age and are probably not year around campers

But the ones who are year around make sure that camp, during the off-season, is hospitable 

Would probably team up with the Hermes cabin to sneak in movies and mortal world media 

They plan the best parties for the campers

They are the type to join a cult and end up becoming the leader

Dionysus campers are often overlooked but I just feel like they would be the backbone of camp

[chaithetics]

To Sit in Hell with You

Pairing: Kendall Roy x f (afab) reader Part 1 Desperate to Please Word count: 2.8K Dividers: @thecutestgrotto Warning: 18+ MDNI, smut, language warning, enemies-to-lovers? Feels more like reader's one-sided beef lol. Reader has no physical descriptions, it's you! Not proofread! A/N: I hope you enjoy and would love your thoughts, I'm sorry for how long this took! This might become an actual little series...? I appreciate all comments and reblogs! 🫶Forehead kisses for whoever knows what the inspo song is (title and a line or two snuck in).

The AC had been programmed to be refreshingly cold, as if it could possibly replicate the cool New York morning breeze, as you sat in your glass pen giving yourself a self-induced migraine by afflicting your eyes with more reports and press releases. 

It was a Tuesday morning, it had barely been a few days since that gala, it wasn’t even the middle of the week yet and you wore a black turtleneck with the highest neck you could find in the whole New York state to hide the evidence of that cursed gala. 

The evidence of Kendall Fucking Roy, as you should say. 

The text came in before it was even 10:00 AM yet, it was from a number that immediately set off the fire alarm in your head. It was too early in the day for this, too early in the week. You stared at the text longer than you’d like to admit and at each character you thought about how he felt, how he made you feel. You wanted to block his number each time you remembered it was saved to your phone but you couldn’t find the willpower to do that right now. 

Your finger fidgeted with the collar of your turtleneck and you itched slightly at the spot where he’d left a gargantuan hickey, the memory of his wet lips made your cheeks heat up and it was all you could think of while looking at his text and memorising his number. Just in case if you ever made the stupid decision to delete or block his number. 

Before you knew it, you’d sighed and sent a text message back and you were signing out of your computer and leaving your office. You justified it to yourself, as you stood quietly in the elevator you told yourself it was fine as you didn’t have another meeting for almost two hours, you had time. Plenty of time. 

You made sure that the limo would stop three blocks away from your office and you put on a big pair of dark sunglasses before you left the PGM building. It made you feel more like a serial killer with a cap on as well rather than tailored incognito chic as you walked to the stupidly large private car waiting. He’d texted the plate before and the car waiting stood out like a sore thumb anyway. It would be impossible to miss but that’s just how he is. 

He remembers what he thought that recent night at the gala, the last time he saw you. It’s burnt into his membrane. How you’d looked, how he’d thought to himself that you were a piece that should be front and centre of the Louvre. But now? Seeing you step into his car with such poise in your movements, the beauty in your side profile, he’s glad that you’re not. You’re too beautiful to be appreciated by the masses, by sweaty tourists or overeducated snobs. You’re a beautiful custom masterpiece that only a man like him could have the means to appreciate. 

You looked around the limousine, seeing the little prince’s chariot in daylight was different, your eyes scanned around quickly. Kendall froze for a second, immediately noticing your eyes searching. 

“What? Not nice enough or something?” He asks almost mockingly with a slight defensive air in his voice as he tilts his head and his eyebrows go up. 

“It’s fine enough to sit in hell with you.” You reply tilting your head back and adjusting your pitch to meet him with an almost equally mocking tone. 

“Wow, that’s… you’re so fucking- uh, how many english lit papers did you take at college again?” He’s further charmed and smiles widely. 

“I don’t know, maybe three?” You answer with a sigh and look out the window.

You do know. It was definitely three. 

“Well if you keep it up, when you get sick of PGM, I think we’d love to publish whatever slam open mic night button poetry collection you have uh, y’know marinating up in there. I’ll even oversee it myself.” Kendall teases. 

“You learned to read? I remember others doing that for you back in college.” Your head whips to face him quickly as you retort. But you do almost laugh at the fact that he knows of Button Poetry. A slight smile starts to come out onto your face. 

“In other contexts this wouldn’t be very uh, arousing, y’know?” 

“I’m glad you enlightened me, I’ve spent the last few days pondering over what arouses you.” 

“While I’m not complaining and I don’t mean to fucking like mansplain and-but it would’ve been more uh productive if you’d approached me with that question rather than pondering on your uh, lonesome.”  Kendall chuckles and then pulls his phone out and you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. “What? I don’t want to see and give notes on your dick pics.” You say it as bluntly as you can and he chuckles with that large, cocky grin that takes over and transforms his face. It feels like it transforms him as a whole person. 

“You sure? I’m still trying to figure out how to take uh tasteful ones, make them look artful y’know? You can’t spare uh-a few fucking pointers?” He teasingly questions as his mouth quirks smugly. You roll your eyes, he’s a little shit and he knows it. 

“Couldn’t you date a photographer or an art historian?” You tease with a grin starting to come. 

“Your instagram is aesthetic enough. Like that uh fucking tree photo-” 

“My instagram is private!” Your brow furrows as you look at him. Kendall chuckles and shrugs looking at you. “You’re such a shit.” You say looking away out the tinted window with an exasperated sigh. 

“Sure, but you’re here… And not complaining…” He shrugs his shoulders up and flashes that signature grin. 

You tilt your head and look at him, scanning your eyes up and down, he does look handsome today. The suit is smooth, his white button up shirt is as crisp as ever, he’s freshly shaved. You couldn’t say no to those big brown eyes, they saw right through you and melted you down into a gooey puddle. 

“Fikret? Can you take another lap around or two, please?” He presses the button down for the privacy screen after his driver, Fikret nods. 

He puts his hand on your cheek, holding your face, his touch is gentle but firm as his lips start to move against yours. The kiss starts softly but the urgency quickly becomes clear as his mouth moves against yours, seeking more. 

He always is, he’s always looking for more and seeking more. Nothing is good enough. Nothing can ever fill the void, nothing ever gets close… But you. So he’ll push and ask for more, have his mouth seek more of you out without even needing to say a word.

You hesitate for a moment and tilt your head back but you let him in, opening your mouth up for him and you feel him instinctively smile against your lips as he dips his tongue in, exploring more of your mouth again. 

“You could be… uh… fuck, more expressive in your texts…” He whispers against your mouth in between kisses. You pant and keep your eyes closed as you feel his breath against you. You can feel his hand travelling down to unbutton and unzip your trousers. 

“What?” You whisper back, feeling his hand snake its way down underneath your underwear. 

“So short… Had me overthinking your uh punctuation.” He chuckles dryly against you as his eyes search your face, his pupils start to dilate and he doesn’t even bother to tease you over the panties. Something he’d usually do. 

You put one hand onto his thigh and squeeze him there as you sharply gasp, feeling his fingers start to tease through your folds, your arousal is growing and it’s something he knows. He can feel it and you squeeze his thigh tighter as you feel him tease you and start to spread your growing slick all over you as if he’s sensually finger painting. 

“Oh…” You blink your eyes tightly shut, screwing up your face for a few seconds as your pulse speeds up and you can feel your cheeks heating up as his breath fans across your face. As you dig your nails in, you can’t help but breathe him all in; his shampoo, mouthwash, cologne. It’s so intoxicating and overwhelming. 

“You’re already so wet…” He whispers in awe but you groan, hearing the smugness in his voice, as his index finger starts to tease your eager hole. “Probably got wet as soon as you read my text…” 

You start to chuckle at that but then Kendall presses his index finger in and you whine out as soon as you feel him inside of you, starting to explore the inside of you with his finger as your walls quickly suck that little digit up. 

He’s watching you as he starts to speed up his movements and enter a relentless pace, you’re quietly moaning and overwhelmed. You need more… And you don’t like the fact that you’re the only who is becoming a mess and more of one with each second. You need to even the playing field. 

Slowly moving your hand from his thigh you reach it up to try unbuckling his belt. He knows what you’re doing but he doesn’t stop, he instead seems to slow his movements down a little and adds another finger in. You moan out but you’re slick enough for it to slide right in. 

After what feels like minutes but is really seconds, you finally but sloppily unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers. He lets out a groan and you try to tug his trousers so it’ll be easier to free him. Kendall stills his fingers for a moment and lifts up so you can quickly tug his pants down a little. 

Ken lowers himself down again with a groan and you put your hand down to his boxers to free his girthy, red head that is already starting to leak. 

“Fuck…” He mutters out as you wrap your hand around his girthy length and slowly move your hand down to his base, you can feel his coarse, dark pubic hair tickle your hand as it sits there. You look at his eyes, they’re closed as he leans right into you, his fingers still inside of your pussy as you start to move your hand up and down his throbbing length. 

His breathing speeds up as your hand works him. He’s so thick and girthy and as his fingers start to speed up again, being squeezed by your walls you can’t help but think about how it would feel if it was his cock thrusting in you instead of his fingers. You’d feel so much fuller. You’d really squeeze him.

You let out a whimper at the combination of those thoughts with how his fingers are now curving slightly to rub against the soft spongy spot inside of you. You arch your back away from the seat and whine loudly, forgetting that you’re in a car and then forgetting that the car isn’t some billionaire self-driving bullshit but instead billionaire with a private driver bullshit. 

You bite your lip as his fingers continue and he groans against you as you keep moaning and pumping him. You give him a slight squeeze as you keep stroking him, you can feel the pre-cum weeping out and starting to drip out, adding as a natural lubricant for your hand’s movements on his sensitive length. 

Kendall starts to whine and buck his hips more into you, you watch him. He looks so lost in pleasure as your hand perfectly tugs and squeezes him, so needy and almost pathetic. You love seeing him like this, you want to see him like this more. It’s a thought that’d scare you in your not-near-orgasm mind but right now it just turns you on and fascinates you. You know he’ll look even more perfect when he comes. 

You both keep stroking each other as your backseat is silent minus the sounds of laboured pants, whines and moans fill it. You can feel your heart racing and cheeks flushing as he keeps going, Kendall keeps pumping his index and middle fingers into you and starts to use some of your slick to rub it around you, you can feel his thumb start to circle your clitoris and it's heavenly. He’s applying the perfect amount of pressure and you’re struggling not to cry out. 

“I’m getting… Fuck, Ken, that’s gonna…” You whine and whimper out with less shame than you ever have around him, you do your best to keep pumping him, your hand moving faster as his fingers continue to bring you over the line to orgasm. 

He pants and nods, not slowing down at all, keeping at the same miraculous pace. 

“Come for me baby, go on…” He whispers between his groans and grunts. His voice is hoarse and needy. You nod and keep pumping him as his thick thumb keeps circling your bundle of nerves. 

You cry out, your eyes rolling back and you’re not sure what colour it is you see as pleasure takes over every molecule of your body. You come and you come hard in his car as his fingers work you through it, his fingers feel perfect. You pant and gasp, you quickly blink and try to slow down your quick breathing a bit. 

Kendall is watching you in awe, there’s nothing hotter than watching you in pleasure. You don’t even need to be touching him, he could get off alone just from touching you. Or not. Whatever you preferred. 

But he’s not going to complain about the fact that your hand is still wrapped around his throbbing cock and that you would’ve felt it twitch in your gentle hand as he watched and made you come. He smiles as he feels your hand continue. 

Your hand starts to move a bit faster again. Now that he’s made you come and breathing feels a bit easier and more natural again, you’re determined to unravel him as well. You’re yet to learn but it doesn’t take much of you to get him there, your touch is pretty magical and he’s honestly been touch starved for as long as he can remember. It’s heaven just when you look at him. 

Your hand keeps moving and he groans out as you continue, he tilts his head to press a messy kiss to your lips, trying to tangle his tongue with yours and teeth clash and you keep pumping him. You’re the most magical person he’s ever met. And he’s so lucky, he knows how lucky he is. 

Kendall can’t help it and he’s bucking his hips up to meet your hand more before he even realises. It’s not long before he starts to whimper at you stroking him and he then spills all over himself and your perfect hand. His come is thick and hot and he whimpers. He closes his eyes and pants. You smile as you watch, taking in how his face contorts into pleasure and the dopey smile he wears once you’re done. 

He gestures down to a spot in the car where there’s tissues. You clean Kendall up and your cheeks heat up as you see his release over his clothes. He’ll go home and change, he has a spare suit in here anyway. He gives a multitude of organised and calm excuses that make his pale cheeks turn a rosy pink and you can’t help but smile at it. He shouldn’t be this cute or hot or sexy. Or anything. 

You almost think about doing more with him, how it would feel for him to throb in your heat. You seriously consider being late to your work meeting but there’s no way you can take him and then fix yourself up enough to your standards and then walk into the office. It’s too much, you have too much dignity to ignore the logistics of it all. You sigh as you look at his stupidly handsome face, that smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

You both tidy up and when you’re satisfied enough. You’re eventually brought back to the same spot that you’d been picked up in. You look at Kendall, he chuckles and smiles. It’s a laugh at the beginning but you’re not quite sure yet what it’s the beginning of. It would be a lie to call it the end and you head back to office as unblemished as possible. 

It’s impossible for you to quite understand what it means to Kendall. What he’d already do for you. He doesn’t care if you’d dismiss him, roll your eyes at him but he needs you. He believes nobody could understand you like him and he wants to do the same for you. A pair nobody would’ve chosen to haunt at the back of the Louvre or wherever love was meant to exist.

Lovingly tagging: @waystarkia @maraschinodreamo @hunzzzzz

[yodeler12]

Tim Joins the Batfamily Early Prompt:

Gotham County office of Child Permanency and Placement:

Two exhausted workers trolled through their very tall stack of their many cases, and their extremely short stack of available foster homes. As they sorted through the backlog, the office clerk came in and dropped another file on the desk.

"Got another one for you Montero, Whit. Exotic location this time, Bristol Heights."

"Bristol, we haven't had a case from Bristol for two years. The richies either don't hurt their kids or they hide it real well" griped Montero.

Whit opened the file, "Hey Monty, you know the Drakes, from the society pages you're always reading."

"Those wannabe Indiana Jones yuppies? Yeah, what about 'em?"

"They got arrested abroad, Kasnia it says, stealing cultural artifacts."

"HA! Couldn't have happened to a nicer pair of snobs. What's with the report?"

"They've got a seven year old, boy, nanny turned in the report, says the authorities froze the Drakes' assets, she hasn't been paid so she left the kid at Bristol PD."

"So let's add the kid to the placement pile, the Richie Rich kid can deal with foster care I'm sure."

"No dice, the Bristol PD file has an addendum from Gotham PD, says the Drakes got financing for their dig from Sal Maroni, and if their assets are frozen..."

"He might go after the kid, fan-freakin-tastic. Should we give him to GCPD to put in a safehouse or sumthin?"

"Nah, let's pass his case over to Santos, she did the Todd kid's adoption by Wayne, and he is an emergency placement option. He's got great security, we'll see if we can get the kid there. At least there he'll be safe from the Maronis and from foster parents who want his money."

And so it was that Tim Drake, utterly obsessed with following Batman and Robin around Gotham City but not yet aware of their identities was placed in Wayne Manor and the awkward dance of keeping their nightlifes secret while trying to keep him from sneaking out into danger began.

[shidouryusm]

𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚ -> You're so cool. It makes me hate you so much

Kuroo x reader (gn)

word count- 2.5k words (excuse me wtaf?!)

content: hinted rivals to lovers, mutual pining, lots of bickering between reader and kuroo, mention of cunt (not in smut way).

A.n -> once again this is my worded desire of having a rivals to lover trope in my life. Also it's my first time attempting so let me know how it is. not proofread bruh it's almost 2:30am here.

The night arrives with all its glory of darkness. People marching out in costumes – fake  crimson blood dripping off the sides of their lips while face smothered in white paint, or dark cloaks shrouded their body while a skull mask decorated their face.

Loud music blares into life through the screen of your phone as you watch a small snippet of a party that was getting wilder and wilder via your bestfriend/roomate’s instagram story. She just took a swig of her drink and you were concerned how is she going to hold herself up.

Hollers of enjoyment and rhythmless singing along to songs were mixed with the deafening bass of music.  Everyone was out and about…everyone except you. 

Well, with a stuck up snob as a professor who assigned a report immediately the morning after and with final exams edging near, you had no option but be the bummer and cancel on all invites, leaving your costume hanging sadly on your closet and get down with laptops and notes. 

Frustrations bubbles inside you and FOMO nearly kills your motivation to even study. You put aside your phone, not indulging in moping over other people’s stories anymore. A sigh leaves your lips as you continue finishing the report you wished you didn’t procrastinate. 

Your mind still ponders over the party that you could have went to.

“well at the end, the little A’s splayed all over the grade sheet would be worth all of it.”

You attempt to console yourself. You shall compensate by scoring the top on the finals and rub it on the face of a certain ravenette. Smiling devilishly at the thought.

You hate to admit but a majority part of you keens to perform the best in this elective course that has remotely no relation with your major is to beat that one particular student in your class.

Kuroo Tetsuro. 

The overachieving dumbass nearly topping every exam that he takes. Waltz around the campus with a smirk that urges all the nerves in your body to break through and act on their accord to strangulate him. It’s been only the second time that you matched a course with him but no one in university was more competent than him when it came to pop a vessel in your forehead. 

You don’t even recall how the dynamic between you two ended up like the way it is but you would rather throw yourself from a cliff, down into a lake of acid before thinking about being civil, let alone be friends with him. 

Maybe you are exaggerating, you consciously think, before the memory of him completely destroying your arguments in a debate just a few days back resurfaced in your brain. 

The smug smirk and quirked eyebrows that he flashed your way after the professor referred his points as “seemingly unbeatable” and “you could learn a thing or two from him!!” made your insides fill with bitter grudge against him once again.

But are you the one always getting the short end of the stick? Absolutely not. You are positive that your feelings are reciprocated by him whenever you raise your hands to critic his works. The narrowed hazel eyes and scorned face mirrors all your emotions whenever you bite back his words with equal wit and banter, effectively shutting him up. And that fills you with brimming satisfaction. 

However, amidst this back and forth competition of getting the better grade and constantly critiquing each other, your eyes don’t miss out the way he looks. The unmissed tension that lies between the space whenever you both get in close proximity always leaves you a little breathless, like you’re holding your breath whenever he’s this close. The way his lips looks so glossy whenever your eyes land on them. Your mind subconsciously wondering how they might ta-

Tsk

You snap the book shut and click your tongue in annoyance. Why are you even thinking about him? Pretending that your brain did not just conjure the thought seconds ago, you open your book and return back on doing your work, your mind occupied with newfound competitiveness against him. 

--

The clock hit 10 pm when you rose from the chair, your back stiffened from being in this position, like any wrong movement could crack it. You decide on a quick shower to relieve yourself from the piling stress and stiffness. 

Just as you were finishing up with your skincare, humming while a towel robe drapes your body and hair saturated with water, a series of doorbell broke through your comfortable bubble. Constantly pressing the button like some stubborn kid wanting a trick or treat. 

“If you keep on ringing like that, you best believe I'm tricking your whole lifetime” you mutter as you hurriedly prod towards the door. Opening it with a bit more force, you are met with your stumbling roommate, head hung low and the smell alcohol reek off her. Her feet barely doing any work to balance her and no sooner than that, she topples over, wrapping herself around you.

“Yui?! Oh my goodness. YUI! Are you okay?” you barely register the second person accompanying her as you try to retrieve your passed out bestfriend.

“I don’t think she’s gonna wake up anytime soon”, the deep voice rang through your ears. Your brain processing it two times to reconfirm you actually heard that before your eyes finally landed on the second company. 

His hair was spiked up as usual in his bed hair. Eyes the same batch of hazel and honey. A white dress shirt adorned his upper half, sleeves rolled till the forearms and finally your eyes zooms on his nearly cat-like face. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” your tone carrying equal measures of accusation and surprise. He scoffingly laughs, “well I certainly did not drop by for a chat and some tea time with you. If you haven’t really noticed, your bestfriend is shitfaced to the point of no return. So me, being the gentleman I am, dropped her off.”, you roll your eyes till it reaches your forehead, a snide chuckle escaping your mouth.

“Humour me. You and gentleman don’t exactly fit in one sentence.” you taunt, drawing a sigh out of him. 

“Just like you and compassion, kindness, gratitude, appreciation do not?” he sneers. Before you can retort, you feel Yui’s weight slip off of you and you hastily try to balance her before she falls face down.

But an unconscious person carries weights like a sack of boulders, making it difficult for you to handle. You look over Yui’s shoulder to see Kuroo still standing, a look of pure amusement plastered on his face as he enjoyed the mess in front of him.

“Mind helping?” you bite back at him, barely able to hold the now tumbling Yui. Kuroo swiftly steps in, draping one of Yui’s hand over his neck and balancing her. 

“There’s a nice word called “please”, but of course you wouldn’t know.” you hear him mutter breathily. 

“People lend a hand voluntarily without asking in such situations but ofcourse, kuroo the entitled tetsuro needs a laminated invite card” you dryly say, watching his eyes narrow and mock hurt creeping up on his face. 

“For someone looking pretty as you, you surely got a foul mouth” kuroo hums and you act like your heart didn’t do an unsolicited somersault at that, you clear your throat, muttering a low "anyways" and focus on guiding your bestfriend from the threshold of the door to her bedroom. 

Grin crawls on kuroo’s face knowing he did hit it where it was supposed to be. 

Once settled into the bedroom, you carefully take off her shoes, and remove little of the makeup that she got smeared all over. Her hair was matted with tangles and a little remnant of her puke dried on the side of her lips, that you quickly wipe with a wet towel. 

“What made you all drunk like you lost your lover, Yui?” you wonder out loud. Yui was in no condition to answer so the only response you received from her were snores.

Kuroo chuckles behind you, the sounds of his laughter making you turn. He was leaning against the study table. His stance radiating confidence and ease even in the silent room.

“Haven’t you got a party to attend?” you ask him. He clicks his tongue, “nah not feeling it anymore. I already got out of there with your piece of a work best friend so don’t really see a point going back.”

“Did she talk your ear off with her breakup lore?” you genuinely laugh. The sound of it reaching Kuroo’s ear, further travelling down to his heart, tugging at a string. 

“I wouldn’t say she was a sad drunk, she was hollering, singing tunelessly throughout the car, surely embarrassed the shit out of me”

“Well, if there’s anything that is left of you to get embarrassed, that is. Pretty sure she cockblocked you rightly” you say slyly.

“Says you. Weren’t you destroyed in pieces in that debate? Should have learned a thing or two from me” kuroo snorts out his sardonic laughter as he parrots your professor’s words back at you. Purposely riling you up. 

You step in closer, jabbing your pointer at his chest, “listen you. You made points stupid enough to leave anyone clueless right at that time” you hiss. Stupid counter-attack but he really grinds your gear with comments like that. 

“Points stupid enough to be “unbeatable”. Let’s accept it, sweetheart, I was better. Wouldn't kill you to do this” he grabs your pointer finger, bringing it close to his lips. For a sec, you think he's gonna kiss but he soon lets it go.

Acting like a million thoughts didn't run through your head, you quip against him.

“Uh huh? who’s leading the assignments and questionnaires then?” you proudly retort to which Kuroo shakes his head. His face inches closer, closer till remnants of his cologne hits your nose. 

“Is this why you stayed at home? Busy being a nerd? Didn't digest your defeat well?” you can feel the jeering lilt in his voice, and closely enough you could even see little evil horns sprouting at the top of his head. 

“looking for me in the crowd? Also being ahead in your work doesn’t count as being nerdy. It’s productive. I’m pretty sure I’m way ahead of you while you slack away in parties” 

“Oh yeah? What if I was?” Kuroo steps towards you, scooting a bit to the right. Now towering over your figure. You unknowingly took a step back and press against the edge of the table. You could make out how sculpted his body was underneath the white shirt, illuminated with the golden light radiating from the study table. His hands reach against your sides, knuckles brushing against the towel robe. You momentarily forget you were in nothing but a robe like that and soon heat creeps up over your cheeks and neck. He dips down till he’s face level and now you could make out the pools of honey that his eyes possess. The shirt was unbuttoned till the first two buttons and that exposed a healthy part of his collarbones and the expanse of his neck. The space between you thick with the tension and shared breath and your eyes once again land on his lips, to which you lick your own. 

Kuroo cages you between him, the scent of your shampoo now directly reaching his nose. It’s so significantly you that he audibly inhales, the sweet fragnance of creamy vanilla and coconut engulfing his senses. 

" you were what?" you glare.

"What if I was looking for you in the crowd? Had a few things to say anyways" his stare was intense, voice holding a little rasp and breathlessness that skipped a few of your breaths as well.

Kuroo wouldn't lie, he actually felt grateful for the drunken Yui back there for landing him into this situation.

The moment you had opened the door and he discovered you like that, he was itching to be closer to you. His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of your towel as he grips the table on either sides of you. His eyes landing on the way you lick your lips and he tries his best to not get ahead and close the gap between them. His mouth curves into a smirk at your faltered expression, drinking in the way you look so cute. 

How can a girl with whom he engages in a tooth and nail fight when it comes to academics can invade his thoughts like that? Randomly popping in his thoughts throughout the day and making his insides feel giddy. The front he has to put up to prevent his real emotions reaching his face makes him feel like a teenager with a stupid crush. So he acts his usual self, suppressing all the little hints of affections and thoughts he harbours for you.

But to his relief, he is sure that he is not the only one who feels the exact same way. Annoyance, competition mixed with the little hint of affection. Constantly wanting to push each other to perfection and having thoughts that blends perfectly with one another. Without the constant bickers, you both would be a team that is formidable. 

You don’t know how much time has passed while you are still like this. Your hands rest against the table right beside his and you look at him. Not wanting to break the little staring competition god knows who started. Kuroo reaches over your ear, his breath tickles you slightly as he whispers your name. Your heart thrums like it is daring to leap out. His voice holding a musky timbre and the way it sounded like dulcet almost made you forget all the times he made you want to strangle him. 

“Tetsuro…” you reply with a breathy air, not daring to break the silence that has befallen. The light snores were drifting away into the background and the only place mattered to you was this little section where you and kuroo were attached. 

“Tetsuro huh? Not sure I’d ever let you call me kuroo again, darling” his lips curve into a smile and you shamelessly ogle them. Apart from the times he manages to be the menace, he really is handsome. it is not your first time registering it but the way you are looking at him like it’s the first time is really debatable. 

“I’ll call you an insufferable cunt instead” 

“Ouch that hurts” he grumbles, still unmoving. His left hand slide over the table and it’s almost encircling you. His face scoots closer to you as if a millimeters distance will close the synapse between you. He reaches over your ear once again, finding amusement in the way it causes you to shiver ever so slightly. “You have to know this, Y/n.” kuroo huskily says. 

Anticipation bubbles inside you, as you itch to know what he’s gonna say next. 

“It’s just…I…” you wait with patience, intrigue written all over your face.

“I…already submitted up the report that you slacked on and had to finish it, leaving out on all the fun.” he brings out a file that you had freshly printed out before shower, “impressive work, darling. But as always there are some mistakes you ought to fix” 

“KUROO TETSURO GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE” you bombard him with a series of slaps across his chest while he half-heartedly dodges them, his unfiltered hyena laughter ricocheting off the room. Yui groans in the background to which you both pause before you silently launch your onslaught of attacks.

In a series of punches and slaps, you drag him towards the exit door when he grabs your hand, stopping you. Tugging your closer, this time his hands wrap against your back and once again he crouches down, whispering against your ear, an act that you discover freezes you against him.

Unfortunately enough for you, he seems to realise that too. 

“You should let Yui get shitfaced like this often so that I get the lucky opportunity to see you in a towel robe more. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” His fingertips traces your jawline before his hands reach down your head and give a gentle pat.

uhh..what.

The tapping of foot indicates he has left, his presence still enveloping you, along with the hint of his cologne wafting through the living room. You contemplate on calling in sick tomorrow.

Damn you, Yui.

I'm not sure how to feel about this. may not be my absolute favourite but this is very self indlugent (not surprising). This is very rushed and it's me writing about kuroo after such a long time so lmk how I did!!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

tagging: @tetzoro , @kuroosexuall , @itadorey (cos I saw u not being able to see the posts on dash :(( ), @sookisaurus @quirrrky @sir-kuroo (I looked at the tags and went :0 I deadass thought I had tagged you, my most longest kuroo lover moot in this app how could I not include you im so sorry boo)

[tessa-liam]

A Royal Misadventure

Book: The Royal Romance Finale

A Smoke & Mirrors AU series one shot

Pairing: King Liam Rys x F!MC Queen Riley Brooks-Rys OTP 

Rating: Teen 

Category: fluff

Warnings: a couple of swear words 

Words: 1167 

Prompt: Inspired by an ask from @peonierose 

“I was wondering how would your MC/ OC embarrass their kids? Or the other way around?” 

__The Palace Courtyard___ 

The first week of the social season was officially underway which meant that it was time for the annual royal garden party. On a balmy, early summer afternoon, it was one of those events that managed to bring together nearly all the key players of the royal court, politicians, diplomats, nobles and close friends of the king and queen together.

Liam was busy talking with Ana de Luca and other reporters from national press outlets, while Riley was surrounded by ladies from the court who were pestering her with endless courtly questions. 

-And the five-year-old twin princes had gone missing.  

"Shit! ... Fuck!" ... Leo growled under his breath when he realized his twin nephews were missing after searching the hedge maze. Drake, sitting with Maxwell near the outdoor bar, looked at the frazzled former crown prince in amusement as he downed a full glass of scotch. 

“Rys?! What did you do?” Drake stifled his laugh, as Leo muttered to himself ..."I told them not to go in there. I've no idea how they even got out." 

"I think that's the point of a maze, Uncle Leo, to get lost," eleven-year-old crown princess Eleanor said matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes. 

That’s all it took for Drake and Maxwell to explode in laughter, shaking their heads. 

"You know, sometimes you are too smart for your own good," Leo said, scowling at his niece while ignoring the snickering and chortling of his friends. 

Eleanor cheekily grinned at her uncle. Leo stared at her, thinking to himself that she's been spending time together with her dad far too much lately, sighed in frustration.

"Do you want some help looking for them?" she asked sweetly. 

"You'd do that? Your mom would kill me if she found out that I let you go alone. She already is annoyed that I let you play hide and seek with them the other day.” 

"Why are you so desperate to find them? I'm sure the nannies are with them." 

"I'm the only one who knows their hiding spot and I can't even find it, so I have to look." 

"What's in it for me?" 

"You get to hang out with your cool uncle," he smirked. 

"I've already hung out with you enough for today," she replied with sass.

"Oh, come on, Ellie, do you really want to sit around with all these snobs and old people. I thought you hated this stuff." 

"Fine, I'll help, but only because you called me Ellie, and if Mom catches us, we'll both be in big trouble." 

Leo smiled to himself. He loved getting his way. 

Eleanor, however, was very clever and observant. She'd figured out the hiding place a few days ago. She wasn't going to let Leo know, but she decided it would be fun to mess with him a little. 

She took him through the maze, making it seem like she was actually looking, but leading him around in circles. 

"This is never going to work. What are we going to do when Mom realizes they are missing?" 

"I don't know, Ellie. They were here a moment ago, and now they're gone," Leo replied. 

She was interrupted by an eruption of laughter from the bushes, as the twin princes jumped out. 

As Eleanor and Leo turned into the center of the maze, Mara, Riley's personal guard, called out, "Princess Eleanor, your mother and father are aski..." 

"We were right here the whole time, Uncle Leo," said William, laughing. 

"Ha! Ha! You two little shits!" Leo exclaimed sardonically, yet relieved.

"Mommy said you aren't supposed to say bad words, Uncle Leo," Stefan said. 

"I'll deal with you later," he grumbled. 

___ 

Returning to the courtyard, Eleanor took her place beside her father as he and Riley chatted with Ana de Luca and her crew. 

"There's my favorite 11 year old," said Ana de Luca. 

"Are you here to interview me?" Eleanor asked. 

"Actually, yes, I was hoping to get some insight from our future queen." 

Eleanor rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to her parents, who were watching the exchange with amusement. 

"How are you enjoying the social season so far?" 

"It's great, everyone is really nice," Eleanor replied diplomatically, sounding bored. 

"Okay, Princess Eleanor, Cordonians want to know.  It's your parent's wedding anniversary coming up.... can you share some secrets about your mom and dad?" 

Eleanor glanced over at her parents, and they gave her a nod of encouragement. 

"Sure, what do you want to know?" she replied. 

"How does the King and Queen show their love?" 

"Sometimes, Daddy plans surprise date nights for my mom, like picnics in the hedge maze or candlelit dinners." 

"That's very romantic. Anything else?" 

"Hmm, Mommy leaves little love notes for Daddy in his study, and he keeps them all in a special box. And they always hold hands and they hug a lot." 

"I see, that is very sweet. Your parents live a very hectic life. How do they support each other?" 

"Daddy always holds my mom's hand when she's nervous, like during official events or speeches." 

"Do you think they still love each other like they did when they first met?" 

"Definitely! I overheard my mom telling Auntie Hana that she and Daddy are still best friends and have so much fun together. Sometimes, I hear them talking and laughing late into the night in their room. They have inside jokes that only they understand, and then they burst into laughter together.'" 

"Awww. That is so adorable," said Ana de Luca, before turning to face the camera. 

"You heard it here first, the King and Queen are still in love and living the happily ever after they always wanted." 

Liam and Riley smiled proudly, as Liam snaked his arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him. 

"Thanks, Ellie, that was amazing," Riley beamed, giving her daughter a high five. 

"Yes, Eleanor, you did a wonderful job," Liam added, smiling with pride.

"Thanks, Ellie," said Leo. "Maybe someday soon you can run the kingdom with your smarts." 

Eleanor giggled, "Yeah, maybe." 

___Thank you for reading___

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