#tall morning-glory

[thebotanicalarcade]

n1_w1150 by Biodiversity Heritage Library Via Flickr: Curtis's botanical magazine.. London ; New York [etc.] :Academic Press [etc.]. biodiversitylibrary.org/page/476990

[girlinlovewiththeforest]

common morning-glory (ipomoea purpurea)

[okiller7o]

Next generation mane six

[swankpalanquin]

dreary rainy day with cool breeze :) :) :)

[ferallair]

Here's a bug I found. And a flower I grew.

[headspace-hotel]

you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

[geopsych]

The morning glory vine grew all summer. It’s enormous, broad and tall but until now all it grew was leaves. Then today finally!

[nightingale-prompts]

Space Fae- DCxDP prompt

So ending up in another dimension wasn't necessarily part of the plan. The plan was to stop the portal from being opened and letting countless demons flooding the mortal realm.

Constantine had said portals were finicky and interrupting the summoning can throw off the destination that the portals go to. But not the hell sounded pretty good.

So Tim might have "accidentally" ended up on the other side of said portal after attempting to see what was in it. He didn't actually think he'd fall in.

On the other side, he ended up in what he thought was a lounge. It looked like one or maybe it was a living room.

Regardless 4 tall luminescent figures looked at him from their reclined positions.

Their bare starry skin was bearly covered by translucent shawls. Their bodies were dappled with constellations against their colarshifting skin, it was like looking at space itself but cut out and melded to humanoid forms. It was clear they felt no need to cover themselves when they were so radiant as is.

The figure in the center of the room who was reclined on a fainting couch laid her eyes on him. Her eyes were a glittering blue surrounded by amber lashes. Her long hair was a metallic copper that moved like molten metal. She was the tallest as she stood up reaching 10 feet. You'd think she was a goddess at first glance. Her shroud covered her head to toes stopping short of the floor. She donned copper rings and necklaces around her with form.

The other 3 figures gazed at Tim with curiosity.

The tallest male had red patterns of stars on his skin like a dying cosmos against his dark skin. The main difference between him and the tallest female was her skin glittered with hues of purple stars against the black space. But he was mostly void. His eyes glowed like blazing red dwarfs determined to not go without a fiery blaze of glory. His ashen-tinted shroud was wrapped around his hips with a silver pin. His hair was a metallic silver. The only part of him that caught the light. He crossed his arms as he stared down at Tim at 9 feet tall.

The smallest girl stood only 7 feet tall. Her white hair flowed upwards in a ponytail that moved like a cloudy mist. Her skin was a bright cluster of colors like fireworks. Her skin was so bright the black spaces of her skin didn't exist yet because the space she embodied was so young and new. She mainly shined shades of blue and white of new stars Her green eyes were so bright they glowed a mint green. Here shroud was tied around her like a dress with a golden chain. She bounded towards Tim only to be stopped by the last of the figures who leaned down to meet Tim's gaze.

The last one was male...kind of. Male and female of these beings were judged only by their outlines so far and their way of wearing their translucent coverings. But this last one was neither but completely breathtaking. Their Lazarus green eyes framed by silver eyelashes like fresh powdery snow. Their long white locks reflected like the morning sun shining off untouched snow making holographic like rainbows ripple down the hair. His skin was a swirling mass of cloudy green stars. The center of their body made up the center of a rotating galaxy around a star. His shroud was tied in a toga that fell off one shoulder. He accessorized with jade bracelets and earrings that glowed eerily on his arms, legs, and neck.

The 8-foot-tall being placed a finger under Tim's chin and smiled kindly. He said something to the others and a language he didn't know. It sounded like humming.

There was something in that sound like it promised everything Tim had ever wanted could be found here. Limitless knowledge, love, and someone who understood him in every way.

Then Tim was thrusted back into his dimension with faint memories of his time there. Learning, flying, a warm embrace, and the faint taste of nectar on his lips. The memories faded to vague dreams when he crossed the threshold and only minutes had passed since he left.

[star-suh]

Wet Dreams

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: sub top himbo (attempt) mingyu, established relationship, somnophilia, pet names, restraints, unprotected sex, blowjob, musk kink, tummy bulge, breeding and facial, dumbification, implied second round.

—

mingyu was a heavy sleeper, there could be a tornado right outside his house and he wouldn't open an eye. he is also one of those big muscular dumb guys something that make him cute to some people but for others (yn) it made him even hotter. after some time of knowing each other and watching how their connection grew stronger by the days they decided to be a couple.

one night yn confesses something to mingyu, “you see, i wish we could go for a second round but you always fall asleep” he pouts. “aww baby i'm sorry” the tall apologizes “it's just that being with you makes me feel so good that i want to give you all the pleasure”, he kisses his forehead and taps his chin as if he was thinking about something.

“next time even if i fall asleep you can keep doing it with me, if you manage to keep it hard”...

one morning yn woke up for no reason and he hates that, it was 6:30 am, and when yn wakes up he hardly can go back to sleep. looking for ways to entertain himself at such early hours something under the sheets caught his eyes. mingyu's big dick standing in all his glory forming a tent with the white sheet “wood morning to me” murmured yn.

he quickly went to his closet and from a drawer he takes out a pair of red ropes that he uses to tie every limb from mingyu to each corner of the bed. the big dumb guy barely moves, it's like he doesn't feel the burning sensation of the ropes around his limbs. yn positioned himself in between his legs and started to smell the other’s dick and balls “such a manly musk”. his tongue went up and down on each side of that fat meat, making sure to leave it as wet as possible. slowly he tried to deepthroat him, relaxing his throat so he can swallow more and more each time. he finally reach the base of the shaft but quickly pulls out feeling his gag reflexes kicking in “this is so good” he slaps the saliva-smeared cock in his face leaving some of it on his face. “naughty boy who knows what you're dreaming about that is making you this hard, damn!” the bottom exclaimed, feeling it throbbing in his hand.

“hngh” mingyu moaned, yn stopped thinking he woke up but he didn't. he supposed it was just a reflex of how good he was feeling right now.

he aligned the already lubed tip right under his hole and slowly sat down on it, feeling how that thick dick stretched his walls. he was just halfway through and yn was already a moaning mess, that's how good mingyu's dick felt. when he bottomed out he waited some minutes to start moving. up and down with gentle hip movements so mingyu doesn't wake up, he was also being careful to not squeeze that hard.

“shit mingyu, i love your dick so much” unconsciously yn sped up his movements, just chasing his pleasure, “my fucking god, i want more of you… fucking ruin me” drool dripped down his chin, his hooded eyes trying to focus on something but failing at doing it. he bounces more and more fast, not caring anymore if mingyu wakes up he just wants that cum deep inside his bulging tummy “fill me up baby”.

mingyu felt some heavy weight on his crotch area so he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times to focus and see what was happening, it was yn's back and he kept staring at it while moaning and grunting, “yn?” he asks and the other stopped his movements, “yes?” he replies with some shyness laced in his voice. “what are you doing?” the top asks. yn bit his lip *looks like he woke up but his brain didn't* he thought and resumed his riding. after what feels like a long time mingyu realized that yn was fucking himself on his dick, he watched how that hungry hole swallowed all his inches, the sight made him hornier and yn knew that because he felt the cock growing and throbbing inside him. mingyu tried to meet yn's thrusts with his, the wet skin slapping sound echoing in all the room. yn laid back on top of mingyu moving his hips to massage that thick meat inside him “i fucking love you gyuuu~” yn was already gone, too cockdrunked to think straight. yn lift himself up with his arms so he can sit harder on the cock and also see better everytime mingyu's dick makes the bulge on his lower tummy when he goes deep. yn turns so he's now facing his boyfriend, riding even harder chasing that pleasant feeling. cumming hands free seconds later, squirting the cum all over his face.

yn freed mingyu from the restraints on his hands so he can take the lead in the fucking, “fucking fill me up” moaned the bottom loudly, desperation in his voice. “yes baby it's coming” mingyu reassures him by groping hardly his ass leaving his handprints in both cheeks. mincoc's cock is throbbing inside the other, spurting all the cum stored in his balls deep inside his boyfriend who clenches his hole as hard as he can to milk every single drop out of mingyu.

after they both rode his high mingyu freed himself from his legs restraints while yn just sits in the bed with his legs open fingering his hole “i think i need something more bigger and thicker than my fingers to keep all this cum inside me” his face tinted in red, hooded eyes, his hair sticked on his forehead for the sweat and drool coming out of his mouth.. “you looked so fucked up” mingyu comments while accomodating his tip on yn's entrance.

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

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

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

[yuujispinkhair]

We never go out of style

The thing with Sukuna and you is that it's fun. It's fun to kiss him at parties and to take him home and sleep with him. It's fun to just have this casual little on-and-off romance with him because, after all, you both know that you will always come back to each other.

Aka, I listened to Style by Taylor Swift and got the biggest butterflies when I pictured a modern College boy version of Sukuna to this song.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, College AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of sex at semi-public/public places. Reader and Sukuna have an on-and-off fling, but both develop feelings over time. During one of their breaks, they both kiss other people and get jealous about it. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You aren't even sure how you got into that on-and-off fling with Sukuna. It was supposed to be just a little fun at a frat party. A few heated kisses in the kitchen while you were sitting on the counter, and he was standing between your legs, one large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to kiss you in a way that made your head spin.

Just a little fun. Just a few sexy kisses with a sexy boy who had too many tattoos, too much confidence, and a reputation that should have sent you running.

You never planned to go home with him. But somehow you did, and somehow you ended up in his bed with him on top of you, in all his naked glory, tall and sexy with all those toned muscles and tattoos. And somehow, your hand was caressing his undercut and tangled in his slicked-back pink hair, ruffling it in a way that made him look almost cute. And somehow, the way he was grinding against you and fucking you into his mattress was the best sex you ever had.

Maybe that's why you walked over to him when you saw him on campus on Monday morning, leaning casually against a fence with sunglasses pushed up into his slicked-back hair, smirking that boyish smirk at you and lifting a large hand to wave you over with one long tattooed finger.

Maybe it was a combination of his skills in the bedroom and his confidence and boyish charm that made you agree to meet him again. Maybe it was the way he flashed you such an attractive smile when you said yes that made your knees feel strangely weak when you walked to your next class.

No matter what the reason was, ever since that day months ago, you have been in this little on-and-off fling with Sukuna.

Never quite the real thing, but also never not a thing.

Sometimes it's a few drunk kisses at a party, where you suck on his tongue and moan when he lifts you up to set you on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it's loud, excited laughter and a fluttering pulse when he takes tequila shots where he licks the salt off your neck, letting his tongue-piercing glide over your skin. Sometimes, it's a wink and a flirty greeting while passing him in the hallway. Sometimes, it's a passionate hour spent in his bed, forgetting all the College stress when he dicks you down so good you almost cry.

Sometimes, you go weeks without talking to each other, both doing your own thing. But then you'll receive a text message at 3 a.m. asking you how you're doing.

"What's up, princess? Wanna meet up? I kind of miss your laugh."

You meet him every time. And it's always the same after a few weeks of not seeing each other:

A racing heart and a loud laugh when he stands in front of your door with a bottle of cheap wine and a single red rose. Needy, hungry kisses when you pull him into your apartment. Impatient hands tearing at each other's clothes as you stumble to your bedroom.

Your friends start to notice and ask you if you are dating Sukuna. You deny it, laughing and shaking your head. Who would be stupid enough to date him? You know this is something that only leads to a broken heart. No, Sukuna isn't someone for a relationship or anything serious.

But he is fun. So much fun. The bad boy with the charming grin. The arrogant asshole with the sweetest sweet talk you've ever heard. You know he is dangerous. A heartbreaker, a big flirt. Everybody wants him in their bed. He could have a pretty girl or boy on each finger.

You make sure not to get too invested. You keep it casual. A little fling when you feel like it. When you feel like getting fucked so good, you forget your own name. You make sure to push him away a little bit when things seem to become too intense.

You tell him you won't have time for him during the following weeks because you have to study. He doesn't have to know that, in reality, it's because you can't get his stupid charming smile out of your mind or because you catch yourself rolling over in your bed one night and sighing "Kuna" when you think you can still smell his cologne on your pillow where he slept a few nights ago.

This is dangerous territory. It's best to keep your distance for a while. You go out with your friends. You go to bars and clubs Sukuna doesn't frequent, meeting new people, flirting with someone new, maybe kissing one or two others just for the fun of it because you are young and free and you can do whatever you want. Or maybe it is to convince yourself you aren't falling for a pink-haired bad boy with the world's most charming smirk.

Your dormmate asks you if you and Sukuna broke up because lately, she hasn't seen him leave your room in the mornings with his hair ruffled and hickeys adorning his neck.

Another friend of yours approaches you with a sympathetic look and gently informs you that they saw Sukuna with some other girl last night, kissing her against the wall at a party.

You smile through all the comments, shaking your head and brushing it off.

"Oh, that's fine. We aren't dating or anything like that. He is just a little fling. It's not that serious!"

You try to ignore the uneasiness those comments cause. You smile and buy a new sexy outfit, and go to more bars to kiss more strangers, and Sukuna does the same.

Until you bump into him at another party. You turn the corner after grabbing a drink from the kitchen, and suddenly, you run into his tall, muscular figure, your face practically knocking against his chest. And he laughs and raises an eyebrow at you while his maroon gaze trails lazily over your body.

"It's been a while, princess. How was the studying?"

"It was good..."

"What were you studying again? Making out with strangers in bars?"

His eyes glitter challengingly, and his velvety low voice is carefully playful and teasing, but you can hear the edge in it. You glare up at him, 

"Oh, you mean the thing you were studying too? I heard you were hanging out with some other girl."

For a long moment, no one says a word, and you just stare deeply into each other's eyes. But then Sukuna laughs and cocks his head, 

"Well, it's true what you heard, but it was only two or three times. I'm not interested in her. Especially not now, when you seem to have time for me again."

You know he is leaning down on purpose, knowing full well how hot you find your height difference. You know he is brushing his lips over your ear with the intention of making you weak. You know he is calling you princess in that low sexy voice to make you come home with him tonight and forget all the dumb shit both of you did during the last few weeks.

You know now would be the right moment to tell him it's over for good. But you don't do it. You don't want to.

What you want is to put a hand on his toned chest and grab the front of his white shirt to pull him closer. 

"I have time for you, Kuna. I have time tonight and maybe tomorrow, too."

You can feel his smirk when he kisses you, and his muscular, tattoed arms wrap around you and pull you against that tall, strong body that feels so fucking good against you.

"That's good, princess, since I couldn't stop thinking about you and me those last few weeks. It's more fun when you're with me."

The two of you are back at your typical shit again. Passionate kisses at various parties, loud moans, and entangled sweaty bodies in either Sukuna's bed or yours. Once a week, twice, maybe more often. Sometimes, he stays the whole night and makes your dormmate complain about him using up all the milk in the fridge.

The occasional late-night texts turn into nightly calls. Lying in your bed in the dark with a racing heart as you listen to Sukuna's low voice telling you random things he did today, smiling when he tells you to sleep well.

You go to parties together and make out on kitchen counters. You go to clubs and dance and kiss and make it look so dirty that strangers come up to you and tell you to get a room. You give Sukuna a good luck kiss in the morning before his exam and laugh when he walks around with your red lip print on his cheek. 

People start commenting again on your relationship status, but you just laugh and roll your eyes.

Just like you roll your eyes when Sukuna pulls up at your place on a Wednesday at quarter to midnight, his car window rolled down, long fingers casually flicking off the ash of his half-smoked cigarette as he smirks at you,

"Wanna go on a ride, princess? Jump in. Let's drive to the beach."

"It's almost midnight, you idiot!"

"So what? I didn't say just for tonight, did I? We can stay for a few days, check into a hotel, have some fun tomorrow at the beach, go swimming, sip sweet cocktails at a shabby little bar, fuck in the warm sand, things like that. I know you want to."

You do.

You know you have an exam next week and really shouldn't miss any courses, but what can you do when Sukuna is here in front of you with his sexy smirk and that enticing sparkle in his maroon eyes, offering you the chance for a spontaneous adventure you will probably never forget?

You get into his car. You let him rest his large hand much too high on your thigh, and you let him kiss you breathless at every red light, giggling when he misses the traffic light changing, and the cars behind you honk. But Sukuna just grins against your lips and keeps kissing you while he lifts his hand to flip the guy behind him off in the rearview mirror.

You listen to him complaining about his teammates and his coach and make sure to nod understandingly and do the "Oh, no, he didn't!" and "Ah, that sucks!" at the right moments, earning you a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

You check into a cheap hotel down at the beach, feeling your heart beating like crazy because it feels like you are a criminal couple on the run in some noir movie. Or maybe two forbidden lovers meeting here in secret, far away from the cruel reality where everything is too serious, and people expect you to be a responsible adult.

Sukuna fucks you like he's starved for your body. Hard, deep thrusts and bruising kisses. Passionate sex that makes the old bed creak loudly while the sound mingles with your gasps and moans of Sukuna's name. Rough fucking that turns into surprisingly gentle lovemaking later that night, and Sukuna's soft moans against your neck and sweet little nothings whispered in your ear.

You return home two days later, feeling lightheaded and a bit sore from all the sex you had with Sukuna during those two days. On the hotel bed, in the shower, at the beach at night, on the drive home in his car.

His hand is on your thigh, slipping a bit under your short skirt, caressing your skin while he kisses you thoroughly in his parked car in front of your dorm. Maybe his hand tightens a bit on your thigh, not wanting to let go. Maybe you do the same, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away and saying goodbye.

When you finally exit his car, he grins at you with lips that are swollen from all the kissing and smeared with your lipstick. The red one that he likes so much on you.

"I'll call you when I'm home, princess. And let's meet again on Tuesday or something. I heard there's a party at Choso's dorm."

"Alright… or you could just stay the night."

The smile that lights up his face is enough to make your breath quicken. He is out of his car in a second, a large hand on the small of your back, steering you towards your front door. And you are grateful for the darkness of the night that helps you hide the stupid big grin on your face.

You don't know if you will ever be more than this on-and-off thing. You don't even know whether you would want it to be more. You don't know if you ever want to date Sukuna for real or if you ever want to call him your boyfriend.

But you know he is your boy, and you are his girl.

It doesn't matter how long your little fling will last this time, just a week or maybe a month. It doesn't matter if you'll go your separate ways for a little while again at some point. In the end, you will always come back to each other. Because one thing is for sure: Whatever the two of you have will never go out of style.

I HAD SO MANY BUTTERFLIES WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG AND WRITING THIS AAAHHH!!! College boy Sukuna is my weakness. I'm so in love with him!!Help meee!!

So yeah, I decided that 1989 is a great College Sukuna album, and I will now go back to listening to it again and daydream about him.

I hope you enjoyed this little story and that it could give you butterflies too, maybe!! Please tell me how you liked it.

Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

[bbydoll18xx]

I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 4)

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 based on this request:

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Heyyy y'all I've lowkey been MIA (ya girl has been depressed lol) but here is part 4

Also Paige is so hot i wanna light myself on fire

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: hella fluff

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You had held up your end of the bargain, quite swimmingly. Paige had effectively turned you into a simpering fool, and she loved it. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. 

Long gone were the days of running from your feelings. Paige had you tumbling head over heels, and you wanted to confess to the whole world. It was as if she had tattooed her name on your heart. 

With fake dating being no more, there was still an air of hesitation around what the two of you actually were. You were trying to avoid obsessing over the label, but it ate at you. There were so many unknowns, and you were never one to just come out with what you were actually feeling. 

Since becoming Paige’s friend, you had always relied on her to take the reigns, while you took an emotional backseat. It was just the way the dynamic was between you two.

But now Paige had been scarily quiet on what she wanted from you. 

The two of you had spent an absurd amount of time kissing since you had run back into her arms with ample apologies. Soft kisses in the morning, bathing in the glow of the sunshine of a new day. Rushed kisses in between classes in passings. Passionate, bruising kisses in the heat of the moment after Paige basks in the glory of winning yet another game. 

You were drunk on Paige’s mouth, but the inebriation was not enough to distract from the incessant questions your mind whispered at each waking moment.

So before your anxieties could overtake you once more, you had decided that you would ask Paige out on a proper date.

And so you did.

Taking a deep breath, you walk inside Paige’s apartment. It was now a familiar environment, and the homey atmosphere calms your beating heart. ‘It’s just Paige,’ your brain soothes your sympathetic nervous system, as it tries to go into overdrive. Fighting against your instincts to flee, you stroll into Paige’s bedroom with a soft smile on your face.

The tall girl had fallen asleep, and she was curled up in purple bed sheets looking as angelic as ever. Her blonde hair fanned across the pillows, and her plush bottom lip was jutting out in a precious pout that reminded you of a childs. You wanted to remember this forever. 

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, placing a small hand on Paige’s cheek, feeling the warm, soft skin. Your touch rouses her from her slumbers, and Paige gives you a sleepy grin as she realizes it’s you.

“Hi, baby,” she mumbles, voice husky with sleep. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you tease softly. “Did ya get bored waiting for me?”

Paige just chuckles, and your belly flips at the familiar sound.

“Doyoumaybewannagoonadatewithme…? you spill out, practically babbling in a desperate effort to just get it all out before you lose your courage.  

Your rapid wording flies over Paige’s still drowsy head, and she responds with a bewildered, “Huh?”

You swallow your pride once more, and with a deep breath you repeat yourself, much slower this time. “Do you want to go on a date? With me?”

Paige’s blue eyes widen, and her tongue darts out of her mouth to run across that fucking bottom lip again, and she nods. A grin is spreading across her face, and the swarm of butterflies that were assaulting your stomach a few seconds ago have flown away, leaving a wave of calm to wash over you. 

Trying to figure out where to take Paige was a whole other issue that had crept up on you. You were not used to having much control when it came to planning dates, and it had to be fucking perfect. You wanted to avoid the typical dinner and a movie routine; that was boring. Other activities would be difficult with Paige’s popularity, and you needed to evade the hoards of her adoring fans. 

You finally decide to take her go-karting. It was perfect. It appealed to her competitive edge, and it was super fun. You packed a bunch of her favorite snacks, and you were all set. 

Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, you knock on Paige’s door to pick her up. The nerves threaten to make you turn on your heels and flee once more, but you resist. Paige opens the door with a cheesy smile that causes a visceral reaction from you. She would never not make you feel a million things all at once. She looked you up and down, a flirty expression on that beautiful fucking face of hers. 

“Lookin’ good, babe,” she murmurs, and your face heats up at the compliment. 

“You look gorgeous, P,” you declare in response, thus eliciting a similar flush that has you smirking in pride. Pulling a blush out of Paige Bueckers was always an accomplishment. 

You take her hand in yours and lead her to your car, and you allow her to connect to the aux. She looks at you in surprise. “You never let me listen to my music in your car.” 

“It’s your lucky day,” you tease with a small laugh. “I can go without Taylor Swift for a bit; this day is about you.” Paige beams, and your decision makes it all worth it.

You would kill someone just to keep that pretty smile on her face. 

You drive to the go-kart track with your right hand intertwined with Paige’s, and it was your turn to rub small circles on the back of hers. The domesticity of everything was bringing you much hope that this would all turn into more. Now that you had a taste of what it was like to belong to Paige, you knew it would be nearly impossible to give it up without a brutal fight. 

As you arrive, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by Paige’s loud gasp as she realizes what the two of you would be doing this afternoon. 

“Go-karting? Babe. I’m gonna kick your ass!” 

Her taunting just makes you laugh, and you shake your head fondly as she gets out of the car and bounds toward the door, dragging you along in faux impatience. 

The building is void of the usual busy crowd, and Paige notices the lack of people quickly. Seeing the confusion wash over her face, you explain that you pulled a few strings using your media manager status in order to have a little privacy. Paige says nothing. Instead, she pulls you in by the waist to press her lips against yours in an appreciative kiss, and you know this was the right call. You chase her lips and subconsciously go up on your tiptoes in an effort to get even closer.

The moment is interrupted as the manager of the facility walks over to where the two of you were standing, and introduces herself. She explains that you would have the place to yourselves for the next four hours, and she goes over how to work the go-karts. 

By the time the manager leaves, giving you and Paige the privacy you had wanted since arriving, Paige is bouncing on her heels in pure, child-like excitement that makes you equally as giddy. 

She bounds over to a brightly-colored purple go-kart, claiming loudly that it belonged to her, as you seat yourself in a green one. You watch her as she pulls the harness across her chest and tightens it, her tongue peeking out once more in concentration.

She was so endearing, and the feelings you were having had grown tenfold since she had originally asked you to pretend to date her just a few weeks prior. You weren’t sure if you would survive actually dating her. Just the thought made your heart feel as if it could explode at any moment. 

Your daydream is cut short by Paige who is now attempting to trash-talk you. However, her insults were hardly so, as she was having a similar issue with handling her affections for you, as well. 

“Mkay, I’ll believe it when I see it,” is all you get out before Paige is speeding away with a loud squeal and a cloud of gasoline. You barely mutter out a “fuck” before slamming your foot on the gas in a feeble attempt to catch up.

No such luck. 

Paige actually was incredible at go-karting, and her smugness had no limit. 

She walked out several hours later, one hand around yours once more and the other raised in the air, pumping her fist victoriously for the millionth time.

If it was literally anyone else, you would have felt mildly annoyed at her antics, but your fondness overtook any other possible emotions in your little love-drunk brain. 

As you climb back inside your car to head back to Paige’s, you allow yourself to study the features of the blonde, and you’re ecstatic to see the similar looks of happiness on her face. You had been counting on this day being a success. 

“I had a really fun time today. Thank you for doin’ all this for me,” Paige whispers sincerely with a flush of pink overtaking her pale skin. 

“I’d do anything for you, P,” you respond, struggling to maintain eye contact with your sudden candor. “I just don’t know where your head has been, but I’d like to be more than friends. And more than just friends who pretend to date to help their other friend,” you add with a quiet laugh.

The sheer absurdity of the situation was finally settling in. And you were hoping to be able to reap some long-term benefits of having to pretend to date Paige.

Paige places a hand on your face, cupping your cheek delicately and forcing you to gaze deep into those blue eyes. “Course I wanna be more,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from the combination of the emotions and the amount of yelling she had done earlier. “You’ve been my girl since that day in the gym when you agreed to fake date me. Now it’s just official.”

“Good,” you reply, a smug smirk engulfing your expression, and before you can say anything else, Paige is pulling you into another searing kiss.

“What are we gonna tell the team?” you ask between kisses, puffs of air leaving your swollen mouth every few seconds.

Paige shrugs. “They’ve been wanting me to try and get together with you for years. Now that I’m thinkin’ ‘bout it, I feel like Azzi made up the whole thing just so I would kiss you…” she trails off, a look of realization flitting across her face. 

A giggle escapes from your throat at the determination of Azzi Fudd to get the two of you together. And boy, were you grateful for the little scheme.

thanks so much for reading. i love you all :)

[slttygeto]

pairing: fem! reader, husband! suguru

c.w: bl0wjobs, dirty talk, cursing.

w.c: 1,3k

When Suguru wants to receive head, he doesn’t say it. Words suddenly seem far too vulgar for a man who spews out filth when he’s fucking his cock deep into you. He wants to catch you off guard with his words, but asking you to suck him off sounds disrespectful���he can spit in your mouth, eat your ass but never push his cock down your throat unless you asked him to. You are too sweet for him, all comfortable in your cotton shorts and worn out T-shirt you had begged him not to get rid of when he pulled it out his closet. You’re so attached to the piece of clothing, he joked that he had competition in the relationship.

He eyes you carefully as you take a seat next to him on the couch, throw your head on his lap and bury your face in his stomach. You are affectionate, that he knows. However, it took everything in Suguru not to buck up his hips when he feels your cheek press against his soft cock. He can feel himself hardening, you’re clearly exhausted and in need of comforting, so he reaches out for the pillow next to him and tries to place it on his crotch.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his skin, somehow having lifted up his shirt and were now pressing your lips against his stomach.

“Getting you a pillow to rest your head on.” He replies, fingers stroking your hair.  He feels you shake your head, lips peppering kisses along his scarred stomach.

“I don’t need it here,” he stares at you confused, but it doesn’t last for long. He feels you move from the couch and down to the floor where you sit obediently on your knees between his large thighs. You braced yourself on his knees with a look of fascination on your face, wondering what you did in a past life that was so heroic that you were rewarded with such a handsome man, sculpted by God himself.

You reach for the pillow intended for your head and position it below your knees, shuffling a bit to get yourself comfortable. Your fingers reach for his shorts and you look up at Suguru, waiting for him to give you a bit of a helping hand and let you undress him.

“This is all very random,” he says but lifts up his hips nonetheless. How could he complain when he’s been daydreaming of fucking your face all morning? He’s always appreciated your little expressions. You had a face full of emotion—when you were sad, he knew it by the little tremble to your lips. When you were annoyed, your eyebrows would stay furrowed for so long he worried you’d get a headache. Catching anxiety on your face was easy—all color would drain from it. And when you were so full of love for him, so adoring, your eyes spoke volumes to him. Pupils blown wide, smile reaching your cheeks and eye contact that lasted for an eternity—he loved to trace his thumb along your skin, feel the acne scars all the way down to your lips that suck in his thumb like a treat. He loved your face so much, he wanted to stuff it with his cock.

He would let you take the lead, watch what you do with it—he imagines that you would start by licking the side, focus on that one prominent vein that makes him hiss, then you’d lick your way up to the tip before wrapping those delicious lips around it—kind of like how you were doing right now.

You are shameless with showing your appreciation for his massive cock. Your hands fondle with his balls like a stress toy, your mouth busy trying to fit all of him inside—but you can’t. You’ve tried it before and almost choked to death. You take a deep breath as you pull away from his dick, staring at it in its full glory, standing tall. Saliva coated it from all edges, but your favorite was the tip—leaking pre-cum which you were ready to swallow gladly. It tasted bitter, a testament to the coffee and cigarette he consumed regularly, but the rest of Suguru was sweet—all warm and soft touches on your face, roughened up when your voice gets higher and your whines beg him to use your body for his own pleasure.

“Fuck, you are sweet f’me.” He slurs, eyes rolling back and a sigh leaving his lips your hand wraps around the base. You stroke him eagerly, watching with intent eyes as his head rolls back and rests on the couch. Your clit tingles when you see the muscle of his arms flex, his hand twitching and you pray he would grip the back of your head with it. You moan around the tip when he does, and it sends Suguru spiraling.

“Holy shit,” his eyes shoot open when you start to bob your head, using both hands to stroke his cock up and down all whilst twisting. You combine the two actions, creating what Suguru believes is a recipe for trouble because he finds his one foot raising to the tips, trying to control the shakes that was going through his thighs. But to no avail.

You are unstoppable when you hear Suguru reach that part of his journey to his orgasm—when all self-control exits his body and his noises start sounding more of a recording of a high quality, fan favorite porn video. He is hissing, lips smacking as he tries to keep his noises in—he covers his face with his hand but soon realizes that he needs to grab onto something so now his face is uncovered and it’s a sight to see—flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead and lips parted as they bless your ears.

“Shit, oh shit, oh baby,” he sits up fully, hands holding your head as you continue your movements. You can’t see him now but you know that you can’t stop. You feel him fucking up into your mouth, eyes tearing up everytime the tip of his fat cock hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t matter—not when you were making Suguru cum.

“Fuck yeah keep going, just like that mm—“ his words are so encouraging, it makes you squeeze your thighs. You didn’t want to touch yourself because that would mean one less hand to stroke his cock. You weren’t willing to make that sacrifice when you knew your pussy was going to receive princess treatment after making your husband cum. “Oh fuck yes, yeah yeah—“

He cums with a loud string of profanities, emptying himself down your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as his dick shoots thick ropes of cum, your hands resting on his knees as you slowly pull your mouth off of him. The living room is filled with breathing sounds, Suguru leans back to catch his breath and locks eyes with you right as you wipe your mouth with a proud, cock-drunk grin. There’s saliva coating your chin which you didn’t wipe off, so Suguru reaches a hand down and grabs your jaw.

“You are—fuck,” he laughs in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you just gave him such a mind-blowing orgasm so randomly.

“Amazing?” you ask cheekily, letting him pull you on his lap as you straddle him. You purposely sit your ass on his limp dick, grinning when he hisses and his hands find your hips to grip them and keep you off of his cock. “Who says I’m done?” You tilt your head to the side and your husband stares at you with wide eyes when he feels you start grinding against his sensitive dick.

“How about another one, hm?”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ 9:23AM – GETO SUGURU.

word count : 1K. tags : fem!reader, domestic fluff, tattooed/pierced suguru, husband!suguru, a bit of nsfw content (not quite but mentions of it).

You sigh in contentment as the sweet scent of sugar caresses your nostrils, making your stomach growl in hunger. The only thing you can hear in the brightly lit kitchen is the sound of your spatula rattling against the frying pan, the oil fizzling as you finish cooking breakfast. You place the treats on a plate and start to arrange your masterpiece when your breath suddenly catches in your throat. Tattooed arms are tightly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, and the hint of a smile tugs at your lips as he starts to sway both of your bodies.

You know who’s behind you, the reason your body suddenly feels so warm and light with love. You could recognize him blind, the gentle caress of his fingers on your bare skin enough to spark a raging fire inside of you.

His front fits perfectly against your back, warm and firm, and you breathe him in. You’ve always loved the way he smelled, of rose and musk.

“Good morning, wife. What are you making? I’m starving.” Suguru’s husky voice whispers in your ear, the hot air making your skin tingle as his large hands lovingly trace patterns on the skin of your hips.

Suguru has his face pressed against the back of your neck, a knowing smirk on his lips, before he starts leaving a trail of feathery soft kisses on your shoulder. The pecks are small, his mouth only ghosting over your skin, but that’s all it takes to make you shiver.

The man lets out a deep laugh when he notices how flustered you are from his touch, his eyes crinkling with amusement. He squeezes you against him even tighter.

“Your favorite! You definitely don’t deserve me.” You casually grin at him, and he thinks you’re absolutely right, because you’re a sight to behold. He’s thinking about you, and you about him, trying to ignore how hot he feels against you, how attractive his raspy voice is in the morning, and how pretty he is when he just got out of bed, your love bites marring his chest.

“I sure don’t.” He chuckles, kissing your cheeks before he starts to ramble about his plans for the day with Satoru.

And you’re definitely listening.

You’re definitely not thinking about him, about the way you can definitely feel him pressed up against your backside, hard and ready.

You’re definitely not thinking about how good he made you feel last night, whispering words of love and desire in your ear as he thrusted inside you, moaning your name like a mantra. You try not to. You definitely do, but the marks that ornate his skin aren’t helping you focus.

You squeal as Suguru suddenly turns you around, having noticed how quiet you’ve gotten. He backs you up against the counter, standing tall above you, his muscular arms encasing your frame and making it impossible for you to escape his embrace.

A single peek at your warm cheeks tells him everything he needs to know, and he almost can’t stop himself from cooing at you. He always found it so adorable how you shied away from his gaze even long after you two got married, how your cheeks never stopped reddening when he was looking at you way too intently for way too long.

His eyes are soft as he tucks away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand gently moving lower so it can rest on your cheek.

You crane your neck so you can get a proper look at him in all his glory. He has this little smirk he always sports when he’s teasing you - one of his favorite pastimes, and his eyes sparkle with mischief, his lips full and swollen from last night. You must’ve been staring a little too hard, because his smile suddenly becomes a grin.

“I know I have pretty lips, love. Now, what I’d like to know is what you’re gonna do about it?” He laughs, his voice low and filled with implications, the grip he has on you tightening as he speaks.

Suguru sees your gaze hesitantly go from his full lips to his clouded eyes, and he almost rolls his eyes, sharply lifting your head so it’s angled with his own, before hungrily crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. It takes you a moment before you respond, your teeth pulling and sucking his bottom lip, and you smile into the kiss as you hear him moan, because you know he likes it when you bite him. You part, your chest rising and falling against his, his pierced nipples grazing against your front.

Your eyes lock, and Suguru sports a smug look, the kind you just want to smack off his face. But it’s hard to deny him when he’s like this because of you, hair all messed up from the improvised make-out session, his lips full and swollen and his skin slightly glistening under the summer heat. Your lips part to say something, the three little words hanging at the edge of your tongue, but he doesn’t let you. He swallows your thoughts with his lips, harshly pulling at your lower lip to have you grant him access, and when you do he doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and sucking on your tongue. You harshly pull on his ponytail, a small noise escaping your throat when you feel the small metal bead embedded in his tongue in your mouth. You tug and grab at him, and his hairband finally snaps, causing his long black hair to cascade down his naked back. You immediately grab a handful of it for balance when he effortlessly lifts you up by the waist to set you down on the kitchen counter, the food now discarded to the side.

You tightly wrap your legs around his waist, his slender hands squeezing your thighs as he breaks the kiss, his warm lips now nipping at the skin of your neck, sucking and biting to leave bruises, while his hands are busy unfastening your pajama pants.

“I told you I was hungry, love” He mutters but you don’t hear him, and you don’t need to, because he doesn’t waste any more time before his lips hastily go and find yours again.

AN : had this timestamp lying around so have this little gift !! (i should def start writing for other characters . satoru or choso next i think . last post before at least a week bc exams)

[lokideservesahug]

Blissfully Unaware

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Yandere!Charles Leclerc x gn!reader x Yandere! Carlos Sainz

Warnings: Dark themes, pervy Charles and Carlos, reader panicks at a few points. Reader watches a film with a spicyish scene but no smut, so many mentions of underwear (not in a sexual setting).

Notes: And we are back! I hope to get the Logan fic out in the next few days and work on some more requests. But this is a fic based off of this request. Enjoy!

Summary: It's completely normal to have a small crus on one of your coworkers. Two? Meh it happens. But what happens when you end up sleeping in the same room due to their meticulous planning chance? Well, one can only guess...

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Your shoes click below you as you walk through the paddock towards Ferrari hospitality. The rain patters to the side of you and you quickly duck into the doorway of Ferrari. You breathe a sigh of relief. This weekend would be interesting with the weather forecast looking how it does. You turn to your left at a gentle call of your name.

Charles Leclerc stood in all of his glory. A man that despite there being immense amounts of downpour today, still manages to look flawless. "Charles, hi!" The man smiles at you softly and begins to talk with you about anything and everything. The two of you even manage to get onto the topic of the next race on the calendar before a rough cough cuts through your conversation. Your eyes fly to the intruder only to be met with a familiar shade if brown. "Good morning Carlos, how are you today?"

Carlos walks towards you and you turn your attention from the Monagasque to the tall Spaniard in front of you. You only manage a short conversation before your eyes fall on the clock just to the side of Carlos' head and you curse. "Oh no... We're running a bit late." Charles moves towards you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry mon chéri, everyone will be with the weather today." You shrug and murmer that you're going to your office to collect the notes for today.

Yet unbeknownst to you, the two men left in the room shoot sharp stares of jealousy to the other.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You walk back into the entrance in pursuit of "escorting" the Ferrari men to the first media duty of the day. Despite it being awful weather, and being sodden all throughout the weekend, there is no rest for the pilots when it comes to media commitments. You pace back into the foyer and catch the end of Carlos and Charles' conversation I hushed whispers. You swear you could have heard your name but before you get the chance to eavesdrop anymore, the two are sharing a film handshake and turning to look at you.

"So, it looks like the first job of the day is going to be filming a video for YouTube. But I think it'll be upstairs rather than outside today. Both men breathe sigh of relief at your words. With how Ferrari can be, no one would be surprised if they were forced to film outside and then filmed for thirst trap videos of their damp bodies afterwards. "Well show the way mi corazón and we will eagerly follow." You laugh at Carlos' playful tone and lead the two of them upstairs.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You're surprised how grueling the day turned out to be. It's only Thursday and you can't wait for the opportunity to get back to the hotel and change into more comfortable clothes. You make sure to lock your car and grab your work bag. After you close the door you begin to look for some comfortable sleep clothes.

You crouch to reach under the bed and find your suitcase. Your hand shoots out and you tal around but still don't find your luggage. How odd. You stand up but are met by the sight of a half unzipped suitcase. Oh you must have haphazardly chucked it on your bed and zipped it before you left for work. That explains its location...but why does it look like on so the zips is broken? You lean in to take a closer look. Yes this has happened to you before but only when you were very hastily shutting the zip. Oh well at least there were several zips on there.

You open the case in search of your favourite pair of undergarments. You truly wanted to feel at your comfiest today. Yet once again, you can't seem to find them. You pull out the many shirts and various miscellaneous clothing items. Yet you seem to have misplaced a large majority of your underwear. You sigh in defeat.

Well it wasn't the most hygienic but maybe you can wear some from yesterday. At least they'd had more air exposure than your current pair. You go into the small laundry hamper in the corner of the room. You dive in and find your jeans from yesterday, a pair of Ferrari socks (work standard bit unbelievable comfy) , one gag "I ❤ Montreal" shirt gifted to you a few years ago. But not yesterday's underwear... You take a deep breath to stop yourself from internally freaking out and walk back over to the suitcase.

Maybe you just packed them ina different place this time. After a good few minutes, you find your underwear stuffed into one if the front pockets of the case (with both a substantial amount missing and with nothing being folded).

You finally get changed and fall backwards onto the expensive, hotel sofa and try and find a film. Just for today, you allow yourself to order in some food and you excuse the large expense of the just eat order as a means to treat yourself. You start to watch the old rom-com on the television but find yourself zoning out and thinking about anything that will come to mind and stay. That may be why your mind lingers on the two Ferrari men (you must admit that they never really leave your mind).

A loud sound cuts into your daydreams. The two main characters begin to have a passionate exchange that grown more and more heated. And your mind can't can't but flash to the conjured image of you and Charles in that situation. Like the character to his love intrest, his hands slowly making their way up your body in a long trail of featherlight touches.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. How inappropriate. And goodness how awful of you was it taht you couldn't even eat ha film without getting frustrated. You turn your attention back to the screen. The actor on screen begins to murmur in a voice so deep that it reminds you of a certain Spaniard. And now you're imagining Carlos pinning you to the table whilst kissing you like it's your last day on Earth. Gosh, you feel like such a perv.

The image of the "Smooth Operator" makes you fail to realise when the lights begin to flicker. You bolt upright in panick. This hadn't happened before and you were already stressed enough from earlier. You try and sit doen and take deep breaths, assuring yourself that it'll be sorted soon. You focus back on the characters on the screen and fall back into your Ferrari infused daydream.

The sharp ring of the doorbell breaks you from your dreamy state. You skip towards the door, ready to have something good happen this evening and get your hands on the meal that's just dripping with grease and unhealthiness. However, you're not met with a just eat delivery person and instead you're met with a man in the hotel uniform. "Hello. Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" You nod and shrink in on yourself, suddenly consious of your too casual clothing. Your body buzzes with anxiety as to what the worker will say next and you feel like you've been plunged with ice cold water when he says he'll have to evacuate you from the room. Something about pests. You feel like you've been pushed to the deepest part if that ice cold water when he explains that the hotel is overbooked and asks if you can stay with anyone.

Sure, you you can that. You can probably bunk with Marie, the lovely old woman that runs the lighting for videos, you think she's somewhere here. Or even Todd, the new chef's apprentice. What no, he went home to watch his daughter's play. You don't even register nodding at the man but when someone behind the door opposite you begins to frustratedly mumble, you certainly gain a sense of sobriety.

"Qui est-ce? Il est bien trop tard pour ça" (Who is it? It is way too late for this.). You look at Charles hopefully as he opens the door. When he finally realises that it is in fact you that woke him up this evening, a sleepy grin takes over his lips. "Y/N, mon amour. Whatever is the matter?" He ushers you onto the sofa of his hotel room and you explain what happened.

He sits next to you and rubs your shoulders. You hate to admit how simple it makes you look but you feel almost all of your previous stress melt away at the gentle touch. Charles offers you a coffee whilst stating that "It will probably be pretty bad but it's something at least." You nod and smile, softly thanking him in the process. You turn the TV on (carefully, to avoid the channel you were viewing earlier) and begin to watch an old, outdated 80s sitcom. Charles comes back, and holds out a coffee in hand and you choose not to comment on the fact that he brings 3 mugs over to the lounge area in total. All is explained however, when a soft knock on the door is heard and Carlos comes in.

He greets Charles and then you, giving you a gentle smile. He asks why your here (yet doesn't act surprised at all that yours here). And you can't help but also spill this evening's events to Carlos (leaving out your laundry hamper interaction of course). Surprisingly though, he tells a similar story about how he was told by the hotel to find somewhere else to bunk for the might, it must be a common thing.

You apologise for his misfortune and Carlos urges you to continue your story. You speak about the suddsn, ominous light flickering up your room and he comforts you with a sympathetic look and that's when Charles cuts in. "So where are you going to sleep ma très chère?" You furrow your brows. You hadn't thought this far. Clearly, Carlos was quick to process the situation because in a monent, he has his hand on your shoulder and is propositioning you. "Well espléndido, it might be sensible if you deck with Charles tonight." You shake your head. "What about you Carlos, where will you go." He tilts his head in amusement at your clear concern for him. "Meh, I shall sleep on a sofa in the foyer if I have to." You her Charles tut to your right.

"Don't be foolish. I know it is a squeeze but we can all sleep here tonight." You turn to Charles (just in time to miss Carlos lean back and smirk). "Really?" Charles repeats your words back to you and inches closer to you. "It is the least I can do." He smiles like a puppy at you and you thank him profusely. "What about Carlos though?" He shakes his head with laugh. "He can be here as well of course." Your cheeks warm slightly d you realise what this means, spending the night in a room with two very attractive men that you have dreamed about on many occasions. Oh no...

You voice your concern about sleeping arrangements to Charles and he just hums. "Well mon cœur, my mither wouldn't have raised me right if I didn't let you have the bed." You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly, the two of you can take the bed whilst I can sleep on one if the sofas." Charles raises an eyebrow at you, challenging your statement. "You will not. Just look at how uncomfortable they look." You glance at the sofa. Yeah, despite this being an expensive hotel, they look like the type of sofa to give you a back ache by morning. "Well what does Carlos say?" The two if you turn to Carlos, still leaning back in the armchair, smirking. Charles scoffs.

"Enjoying the show are you." Carlos just laughs. "Y/N, mi amor, Charles and I would rather not sleep than take the bed from you. You go to argue with him but Charles softly cuts across you before you have the chance. "Y/N, look. We are going to be in this predicament for the next few nights, please just take the bed and we'll sort something our for later. Hack we can even take it in turns." You look Charles un the eyes and can't find it in you to disagree. You glance back at Carlos snd the sheer ferocity of your looks makes you feel like you'll loose your friendship if you decline the offer. You drop your head down and murmur a quiet agreement. The two men, unbeknownst to you, share equally as sinister smirks but they're gone in a moment as they go to prepare for bed.

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It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep explially with the low timbre of Carlos' voice and the soft curl of Charles accent. Or maybe it was mostly due to your tired state. Which would explain an awful lot.

It would explain how you missed the sight of the box half sticking out from under the bed, containing your missing sets of underwear, a lipbalm you lost many weeks ago and even a multitude of photos in you in many locations and positions from you getting a drink at a café many weeks ago to you getting undressed in the sanctuary of your bedroom. It would explain how you missed a letter on the desk not far from the bed, thanking the two men for their payment and costume for an act by a starting actor, and confirming the date of performance (tonight). It would explain how you missed the two pilots usually dresses in red talking (with evident dopey grins in their voices) about how their plan worked and how they are closer to you you they ever dreamed, even how they intend to futher the development of your predicament. It would would explain how you failed to miss the two soft kisses placed on either side of your head with quiet promises of always protecting you, promises of staying forever devoted to you, confessions of love and admitions of acts of insanity just for a moment of your attention. And most of all, it would explain how you missed the two world famous drivers get under the covers and snuggle up to you.

But that was an issue for when you woke up....

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Song to Gather Witches"

Taglist- @skittlebum @circe143 @quailbagutte

Masterlist

Summary: You've got your powers Agatha found a way to make them useful for your cons scamming gig, this time you've witnessed her do it draining witches seeing her purple -Chapter IV

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The saloon was dimly lit, filled with the smell of smoke and aged wood, the murmur of voices and clinking glasses creating a lively atmosphere. Amidst the crowd, the young reader sat on a small stage, their fingers hovering over a dusty piano as they glanced around, gauging the room. They could feel the quiet hum of their mother’s magic, woven into the air like a whisper, guiding them toward their purpose tonight.

Just before leaving that morning, Agatha had leaned in, her eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of mischief. “Remember, my love,” she’d murmured, brushing a stray hair from their forehead. “Tonight, we need the song to travel—so that the right ears might hear it.”

And so, here they were, under the warm glow of candlelight, ready to sing the melody they’d written together: Witches’ Road. They knew the song by heart, every note and word crafted to call out, inviting magic-seekers toward its ancient lure. The piano keys felt cool beneath their fingers as they began to play, the haunting melody weaving through the saloon.

As their voice joined the music, soft and sure, conversations began to quiet. Heads turned, listening as the words drifted through the room.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood

Where all that's wrong is right and all that's bad is good

Through many miles of tricks and trials, we wander high and low

Tame your fears, a door appears, the time has come to go…"

Their voice was filled with a subtle magic, a lure that pulled at hearts and minds, drawing listeners into the mystery of the song. Eyes watched them with fascination, some captivated, others with an uneasy curiosity. As the song reached its chorus, a few women near the back exchanged glances, leaning in closer, their interest piqued.

"Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Follow me, my friend

To glory and the end…"

When the final note lingered, fading into the air, there was a soft hush in the room, broken only by scattered murmurs. The women from the back made their way forward, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

One of them, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair, gave the reader a long, assessing look. “That’s a peculiar tune for someone so young,” she said, her voice low but warm. “Where’d you learn a song like that?”

The reader met her gaze with innocent wonder, tilting their head as if the question surprised them. “It’s… something I came up with myself,” they said, keeping their tone light, humble, even a bit shy. “I’ve always been drawn to magic, to the mysteries and stories of witches. But it’s hard to learn when no one is willing to teach.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and the others exchanged whispers. “You’re… self-taught?” another asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

They nodded. “But it’s not enough. I’ve been looking for someone who could show me the true path—a real mentor.” The reader’s voice took on a slight note of longing, one that Agatha had coached them to use, and they cast their gaze down, as though a little shy showing a subtle colored little spark from her hands.

The silver-haired woman’s expression softened as she looked at the reader, her curiosity turning to something else—a hint of sympathy, perhaps. She glanced at her companions before giving a slight nod. “Come with us,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “If you’re serious about seeking the path, I believe we may be able to help.”

The reader smiled, a small, grateful smile, and slid down from the piano bench. They followed the woman and her companions out of the saloon and into the quiet night, their pulse quickening as they thought of Agatha, waiting in the forest.

As they walked, the reader could feel the air changing, a faint vibration in the earth beneath their feet. Magic was gathering, old and powerful, drawn by the song and by the reader’s carefully spoken words. They kept their face calm, nodding along as the women spoke in low voices about the “Witches’ Road” and its history, speculating about how such a young soul could know a song like that.

After a while, they reached a clearing, surrounded by tall trees whose branches stretched up toward the star-filled sky. The witches turned to face the reader, their expressions serious.

“We don’t usually take to strangers, especially ones as young as you,” the silver-haired woman said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “But something about you is… different. There’s a power in you that feels older than your years.”

The reader met her gaze, giving a small, earnest nod. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise, I’m ready to learn.”

Just as the woman was about to reply, a soft rustling sounded from the shadows, and the air grew thick with tension. One by one, the women turned, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The shadows deepened, twisting and stretching as if alive, and from the darkness, Agatha emerged, her silhouette outlined against the moonlight, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intelligence.

The witches took a step back, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm.

“You’re… you’re her mother?” one of them whispered, looking at Agatha with dawning recognition.

Agatha smiled, a calm, knowing smile, and nodded. “Indeed. And you were kind enough to keep my little one company tonight.” Her voice was smooth, filled with a dark charm that held them in place, even as they sensed the danger.

The silver-haired woman’s expression hardened, realizing the trap too late. “This was a setup,” she hissed, her voice low with anger.

Agatha tilted her head, her gaze unyielding. “I never said it wasn’t.”

Without another word, she raised her hand, and a dark mist coiled around her fingers, crackling with a subtle, sinister power. The witches tried to resist, casting protective spells and trying to break free, but Agatha’s magic was stronger—each spell they cast was met with a swift, effortless counter. She moved gracefully, almost as though she were dancing, drawing power from them, siphoning their magic as they struggled.

The reader watched, both awed and unnerved. They knew what their mother was capable of, but witnessing her in action, surrounded by these powerful witches who had no chance against her, was something different entirely.

As the last of the coven fell to the ground, drained and silent, Agatha turned to them, her eyes softening as she approached. She brushed a strand of hair from their face, her expression filled with warmth and pride.

“You did perfectly, my love,” she murmured, her voice a gentle contrast to the fierce power they had just witnessed. “Just as I knew you would.”

They looked up at her, a small, relieved smile breaking through. “It worked,” they whispered, the weight of the night’s events settling over them. “They really believed I needed their help.”

Agatha smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “That’s because you have the heart of a true witch—clever, resourceful, and far stronger than most would ever guess. You’re learning fast.”

But even as her words brought comfort, a pang of guilt stirred in the reader’s heart. “Mama… I didn’t know it would feel like this.” They looked at the fallen witches, an uncertain shadow crossing their face. “What if they… what if they didn’t deserve it?”

Agatha knelt down, her expression softening as she took their hands in hers. “Listen to me, my love. Those who would harm us, or stand in the way of what we need, they give us no choice. This is the path we walk, and it’s a path not everyone can understand.”

The reader nodded, letting her words sink in, though the weight still lingered.

Seeing their unease, Agatha cupped their cheek, a tender smile playing on her lips. “You have a compassionate heart, my dear one, and that is a gift. But there are times we must be strong and unyielding to protect what’s ours.” She stroked their cheek. “Trust in your strength, and trust that you were right to call them to us. You did nothing wrong.”

With Agatha’s reassurances, the reader felt a calm settle over them, a reminder of their purpose and the bond they shared with her. They walked together back through the forest, the night quiet around them, the stars gleaming overhead. As they walked, Agatha began to hum the familiar melody, and the reader joined her, their voices mingling softly as they sang together.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood..."

Their voices blended, filling the night air with the haunting, beautiful song, a mother and child bound by love, secrets, and a strength that would see them through any trial ahead.

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A/n: Comment?,👀😩🖐🏻, I'm bored and lacking motivation for this