#thinking thinking thinking about it but will probably do nothing about it

[philosians]

ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

[rodolfoparras]

A Man Can Dream (or so he’s been told)

+18 MDNI +18

Synopsis:

In which he doesn’t mind the age gap

comments, not at all

Cw: top male reader, dom male reader, age gap, exhibition kink, someone thinks he’s your dad and he likes it, Valentine’s Day date!

Thinking about dating an old man who isn’t bothered about the age gap comments matter of fact he finds that he enjoys them, especially when he comes across someone who thinks you’re his son, and the two of you just happen to have a really close bond

“Raised him right” of course, taught you how to keep a cock in your mouth, brought you to your knees and stretched your throat just right til he was sure you carried an indent of his cock on your tongue.

“Like father like son,” the words echo in his mind as he watches you spit into the palm of your hand, eagerly stroking his tip, before spreading it to the rest of his dick, just like he had showed you when you first fucked him.

Those people probably think he’s a pervert , a disgusting old man taking advantage of someone so young and innocent, walking hand in hand with someone who could be his son or something

But they don’t know how’d you’d willingy bend him over in front of those very same people, spreading his legs so wide you’re sure to give a show to whoever’s behind, force his hand behind his back before driving up into him.

He’d beg and plead: for you to slow down your brutal pace, to spare him the embarrassment but you wouldn’t listen to him, only using him as a hole to sheath your cock in, all while grinning at the people watching.

He wonders if they’d realize then that you’re the perverted one here, that he’s tried to reject you multiple times, thought the very same thing as the onlookers are thinking now but you wouldn’t give up, practically cornered him riled him up til he was painfully hard in his pants and couldn’t do anything else but shove his cock into your mouth, letting someone who could practically be his son give him the best blowjob he’d ever gotten.

He’d continue to watch the onlookers and the flurry of emotions on their faces : the look of surprise that turns into disgust before something else bleeds into it, something he’d almost dare call desire. The sudden realization would make him tightening around your dick which in turn would fasten the brutal pace you have on him. Eventually he wouldn’t be able to ignore the heat coiling in his groin, and he’d realize belatedly he’s fucking himself back onto your cock, even though his body aches in protest and his thrusts are nothing but sloppily and sporadic.

Somehow you’d find it in yourself to show him mercy: slightly shifting your positions to give him a bit more leverage. In that very moment he’d be sure the sky had been cracked open, pearly gates of heaven practically welcoming him, stairs cascading right at his feet. But the sudden white light that flashes past his eyes would blind him, the pearly gates disappearing as something else is presented to him: his orgasm, washes over him in violent waves til he forgets all about god angels and heaven , cock spurting ropes of cum til he’d feel like he’s been wrung dry.

God, heaven and angels be damned.

“Love? Love?“

Suddenly a voice breaks through the daze. Mellow and sweet. Had an angel decided to wait around for him?

But when he blinks a couple of times, he sees your concerned face staring back at him, the aroma of coffee surrounding him, a half finished coffee cup clinging onto his fingers it’s almost hurting him

“Are you okay?”

Right.

Coffee shop. Date. You. Him.

“If it’s about the waiter from earlier..”

Right. Waiter. Curly hair. Warm eyes. Thought it was sweet that you were spending Valentine’s Day with your dad, like that very same man wasn’t palming your cock under the table, like he hadn’t sucked you off before you got to the coffee shop, like he wasn’t fantasizing about all the ways you could fuck him in front of these people.

Dad. Dad. Dad

Suddenly he springs up in his seat, mutters something about needing the restroom before scurrying away from where you’re sitting.

Jesus christ.

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Heartslabyul

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Riddle Rosehearts

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you approach Riddle. He’s seated in the Heartslabyul garden, engrossed in a book, completely unaware that his life is about to change forever.

Your hands are sweating. Fantastic. Nothing says “I love you” like handing someone a heart-shaped box drenched in pure nervousness.

“Riddle,” you say, voice admirably steady despite the chaos in your soul.

He looks up, eyes widening slightly at your presence. “Good afternoon. What brings you here?”

You very calmly thrust the box toward him like a knight presenting a sacred relic. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I made this for you.”

The change is immediate.

Riddle freezes, his entire face flaring up like a traffic light on its final warning. His fingers twitch as he hesitantly accepts the box, staring at it as if you’d just handed him the crown of a foreign kingdom.

“You… made this? For me?” His voice is slightly higher than usual. The poor guy is barely holding it together.

You nod, feeling your heart slam against your ribs. “Yeah. And, um… I like you. A lot.”

For a second, you’re terrified he might actually faint. His ears are burning, his posture unnaturally stiff as he processes your words in real time. You can practically see the gears in his head jamming.

Then, slowly, carefully, he sets the box on the table beside him, takes a breath, and stands.

And before you can react, he takes your hand in his, bows slightly, and presses the lightest, most delicate kiss against your knuckles.

It’s so soft. So warm. So utterly, devastatingly polite—yet scandalously romantic—that your brain completely short-circuits.

He lifts his gaze to yours, still impossibly red but full of something achingly genuine. “I… accept your feelings,” he murmurs, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “And I—I… I like you as well."

You’re gone. This is too much. His flustered sincerity should not be this cute.

Riddle clears his throat, attempting to compose himself—but he absolutely fails because his blush is creeping down his neck now. “A-Anyway. Shall we have tea together? I’d… like to enjoy this properly.”

You nod, still speechless.

Somehow, this went even better than expected.

Trey Clover

You’re standing in an empty classroom, clutching your carefully wrapped box of chocolates like it’s a lifeline. The room is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock and the absolute hurricane of nerves raging inside you.

Trey stands across from you, looking as effortlessly cool and put-together as ever, the picture of someone who probably never panics over something as simple as chocolate. Which is unfair, actually, because you’ve been agonizing over this moment.

“I, uh…” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I made these for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Trey blinks in surprise before his expression softens into something warm. “Oh?” He takes the box with careful hands, like it’s something precious. “You made these yourself?”

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to watch him open it, your stomach twisting into a knot. “Yeah. I know they’re probably not as good as what you make, but—”

“You’re nervous.”

You flinch when you feel the lightest touch under your chin, his fingers tilting your face up. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer.

Your breath catches when you meet his eyes. They’re so gentle, full of something soft and unreadable, and suddenly, this moment feels a lot bigger than just some chocolates.

“You really think I’d compare this to something I bake?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing just below your eyes before dropping away. “You made this for me. That alone makes it special.”

Your heart is going through it.

“I—” You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts before you combust. “Trey, I like you. That’s… that’s why I wanted to do this.”

There’s a small pause. And then—his smile.

It’s real, not his usual easygoing grin but something genuine, touched, and just a little bit shy.

“I like you too,” he says, his voice warm as honey.

Oh. Oh.

You barely have time to process it before he straightens up, still holding the chocolates in one hand while the other slides into his pocket. “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the door. “Let me walk you back.”

You blink. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His smile quirks at the edges, teasing now. “Gotta make sure you don’t run off before I can ask you out properly, right?”

Your heart is doomed.

Cater Diamond

You find Cater in a quiet hallway between classes, leaning against the wall and idly scrolling through his phone. The second he notices you approaching, he perks up, flashing you an easy grin.

"Hey, hey! Fancy seeing you here." His eyes flicker down to the heart-shaped box in your hands, and his grin turns teasing. "Ooooh, what’s this? Someone’s got a Valentine?”

Your stomach is doing backflips. But you force yourself to hold out the box, pretending you’re not dying inside.

“For you,” you manage, voice steady despite the heat creeping up your neck.

Cater blinks. Once. Twice. His usual playful energy pauses, just for a second.

“For me?” His voice is light, but there’s something in it—something careful. “Like… me, me?”

You nod, heart hammering. “Yeah. I like you, Cater. That’s… why I made them.”

And for the first time ever, you see Cater Diamond speechless.

He just stands there, staring at you like you’ve just told him the greatest plot twist of the century. Then, all at once, his grin returns—brighter, realer, and just a little bit unsteady.

“You’re serious?” He lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “Like, you—out of everyone—actually like me?”

“Obviously?” You shift the box toward him, raising a brow. “You gonna take these or what?”

The teasing snaps him out of it, and he laughs, reaching forward to grab the chocolates and, in the same movement, presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

Your brain blue-screens.

“There,” he says, still grinning as he pulls back. “A little thank-you for totally making my day.”

You open your mouth—whether to yell, combust, or actually form words, you’re not sure—but he’s already linking his arm with yours, spinning you both toward the exit.

“Sooo, where do you wanna go for our first date?”

“What—wait, first date?”

“Duh!” He holds up the chocolates with a wink. “You confess, I accept, we date—it’s the natural order of things.”

An absolute success.

Ace Trappola

You don’t even get the chance to find Ace before Ace finds you.

"Whoa, what’s this?" His voice is all mock innocence as he suddenly appears at your side, eyes locked onto the box of chocolates in your hands. He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like he’s just witnessed a scandal unfold. "No way. You? Giving out chocolates? Some poor soul's gonna get victimized today."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Victimized?"

"Yeah, y'know—" He gestures vaguely, rocking back on his heels. "Swept up, led on, utterly ruined for anyone else. Tragic, really."

He’s dying of jealousy. You can see it. Feel it. Smell it in the air like cheap cologne.

You roll your eyes, already fed up. "Well, if you’re so concerned, maybe I should just eat them myself."

Ace laughs. "What, you’d steal your own chocolates? That’s cold."

"Not really, considering they were meant for you."

Silence.

Ace stares at you, frozen mid-smirk. His brain just blue-screened. You can see the processing bar loading at 2% completion.

"...Huh?"

You sigh, shifting the box in your hands. "I made them for you, dumbass. But if you don’t want them, I guess—"

You don’t get to finish that sentence because suddenly, Ace is clutching the box to his chest like it’s the last treasure on earth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up—who said I didn’t want them? I want them!" He’s grinning now, the brightest, cockiest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen on him. "You serious? You really made these for me?"

You cross your arms. "Yeah. But you’re being a brat, so I kinda regret it now."

"Nah, too late! No take-backs!" He laughs, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. Then—softer, realer, a little bit breathless— "You really like me, huh?"

You hesitate, suddenly flustered under the weight of his gaze. "...Yeah."

His fingers tighten around the box. "Good. 'Cause I like you too."

Your breath catches.

Ace tilts his head, there’s a warmth in his eyes now—something soft, relieved, like he’s been waiting for this. "Thought you’d never notice, y’know? Been here the whole time, just waiting."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to cover how fast your heart is beating. "And yet you were so ready to tease me about it."

"Of course!" He throws an arm around your shoulders, grinning like he’s just won the lottery. "What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t mess with you at least a little?"

"Boyfriend?!"

"Uh, yeah? You confessed, I accepted, now you’re stuck with me forever. Basic math."

Mission accomplished (You think?)

Deuce Spade

It’s just another casual hangout, nothing out of the ordinary—except for the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’ve been hiding behind your back like it’s a live explosive.

Deuce is sitting on your couch, totally unaware of the internal chaos happening mere feet away. He’s relaxed, chatting about his day, but the second you clear your throat and step forward, he pauses mid-sentence, sensing danger.

"Uh… you good?" he asks, blinking up at you.

"Yeah. Fine. Totally normal." You inhale, ignore the full-body cringe threatening to consume you, and hold out the box. "This is for you. Happy Valentine’s Day."

Deuce freezes. Like, actually freezes.

His eyes dart between you and the chocolates like he’s trying to make sure this isn’t some cruel prank. His hands are shaking just a little when he reaches out, carefully accepting the box like it might disappear if he blinks too fast.

"You—" His voice cracks, and he immediately clears his throat, ears burning red. "You made these? For me?"

You nod, trying so hard to play it cool. "Yeah. I like you, so… yeah."

For a second, nothing happens. Then—his grin.

It’s shy, just a little wobbly, but so ridiculously bright that your stomach does a full gymnastics routine.

"You… like me," he repeats, as if he needs to say it out loud to believe it.

"Unless you don’t want them, in which case, I can just—"

"No!" He clutches the box to his chest like it’s his most prized possession. "No way, I—I want them. I just—" He exhales, a little breathless, still grinning like an idiot. "I can’t believe this is happening."

You barely have time to process that before he straightens up, determination flickering in his eyes.

"Can I—" He swallows. "Can I take you on a date? I mean, since you—since we—" He gestures vaguely at the chocolates, too flustered to form a proper sentence.

You laugh, heart so stupidly full. "Yeah, Deuce. I’d love that."

His breath catches. Then he nods—fast, like he’s locking it in before reality can take it away. "O-Okay. Cool. Great. I’ll—I'll plan something good, I promise."

You grin. "I’d expect nothing less."

Deuce beams.

He looks down at the chocolates again, still holding them like the most precious thing in the world.

And honestly? You think this might be the best decision you’ve ever made.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[indexthejester]

01: meh I think. Getting better I suppose.

02: My friend, we say it when ending calls

03: far too much. Sometimes it hits me like a bullet to the chest. Feels like the metal ball in my brain pinballs into a bumper that gives negative points.

04: no definitely not <- she lied

05: single and looking for friends which may turn into queerplatonic relations. Not that I'm crossing my fingers.

06: slowly and calmly enough to analyze the way it feels to die, but not too peacefully that it's otherwise uninteresting.

07: Zaxby's chicken strips

08: tried a few. Not my thing. Except tennis, I liked that one. Not sure if snowboarding counts but I like that too.

09: Yes I do it sucks.

10: never had one, unless wrestling counts

11: I like many people. I love them too. I suppose I have a crush on people that I relate too, especially if I find them interesting. I want to know every part of them intimately. To drink it all in.

12: yes

13: I don't think so, I try not to. I don't think it's very useful for solving my or the world's problems, and it makes me feel pretty miserable in the process.

14: probably somewhat, I'm pretty lonely most of the time so yeah almost always. I work and live better when I'm with someone I like. Whether talking or just present in the same "space".

15: 2 family dogs, one day I'll move out and get a cat probably. Cats are great.

16: chill, minus the usual slight heartburn. Just got our of the shower and am lying in bed, getting messages from a new friend, living well.

17: no, very out of left field question

18: not really. I find them interesting though. They either look like insects or weirdly mammalian despite being neither. Weird that scorpions are more closely related.

19: nah there's nothing for me back there.

20: god I wish

21: talk to a friend and life planning

22: no, I mean I'm good with them and it's very fulfilling I just find it stressful. Right now I have so much I want to do I can't see myself adopting and settling down but maybe idk.

23: 2 for earrings

24: Math and English I suppose. Programming too if college counts

25: Maybe. Not at the moment. In recent past, it was fun to hang out at the lgbtq center in college. Sucks that I'm stuck at home now.

26: more social interaction. I may be anxious about how I reply or generally talk through textual messaging, but it makes me feel all comfy inside :3 also sleep because it is 2:36am for me rn.

27: idk

28: no

29: never had one

30: eye strain and heart burn and social anxiety.

31: I think so. I don't think it's for me to say, I try to love myself at least, though it's really hard.

32: magenta, or some other combo of purple and red. Hence the Melantha pfp. Also she's autistic.

33: yes, very much so

34: can't remember. The last one I remember was very sexual which is unusual for me.

35: cried on a call with a friend of mine I think. Just scared of the state the world's in.

36: I don't know, I don't know if I've had to

37: depends on the person I guess. Sometimes you can't do either. Just gotta learn to live with what happened.

38: So far absolutely not. But in the past 4 days I've had a lot of fun being alive. It is fun to make new friends and connect with people and have fun.

39: excluding my parents it hasn't happened

40: yes

51: chicken alphredo and chicken cordon bleu

52: I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in causality, to an extent.

53: brush my teeth I think. Maybe watch a youtube video or masterbate, though I usually do the latter as I'm falling asleep so I'm not sure if it counts.

54: I'm sure you could invent some crazy scenario where it is, but in general I think betraying your partner's trust is just about the worst thing you can do in a relationship.

55: I try not to be.

56: 0

57: when I am vulnerable and comfortable, I am filled to bursting with love for the world and everything in it. So if "true" means "pure unfiltered" then maybe yeah. Me x The Universe. Me x All My Friends.

58: bright but not too bright, grey skies, no visavle sun, chill in the air. Can move around without sweating buckets.

59: YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS

60: very much so someday. Already planning it out.

61: never had it happen to me though it seems pretty boring standard. Call me your owner, handler, mad scientist, something interesting.

62: a loving community and the ability to freely create art

63: yeah obviously

64: yeah I'm too old for that it's weird

65: what are we role-playing now? I don't know, depends on the context. (Treating "sex" as "gender" for these questions btw.)

66: no, I don't. I wouldn't call any of my friends men.

67: My father but I honestly wonder if he's not a little trans

68: like a really deep conversation? Uhh definitely @thatweirdyellowrat. Haven't felt that much mental clarity after a conversation in a long time. I would not be as happy or geared to make new friends if not for that.

69: Fuck no.

70: I think so yeah, more than one actually. Which is saying something because I value my life a lot.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

[fishnapple]

How do they love you? How does their love feel like?

(Future spouse/partner/lover)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

CUBE 1

There's always something to look forward to when you're with them. Life never stands still for the two of you, no, it doesn't mean your life together will be hectic and full of fast movement. On the contrary, they will take things slow with you, but you're always sure of their attention and how they see a future for the two of you. They will be very protective of that future, almost stubbornly so. You will hear them talk often about plans, they will ask you how you want to go at things, what's your comfortable pace, what do you hope for the future, what do you expect of them, of the relationship, they will also frequently joke or talk seriously about the vision of a retirement life together with you. There's just this sureness about the future with them, also hope and excitement.

But they also like to reminisce about your memories together. They probably will like to take a lot of photo with you, just daily activities, small beauty around you, and then like to spend some nights, sitting comfortably on the couch with you, warm blanket wrapping around you two, flipping through the physical photo album or the one in their phone. They like to remind you of your many "first" memories together. How you first met, how you first confess, your first kiss, the first sunset watched together. Things like that. They will also like to tease you about it but also want to recreate that memory again someday.

They might have to travel a lot for their work, and overseas trips can be frequent. You will sometimes feel that your house lack a little warmth of their presence. But when they're with you, they will make it up to you when they're home, by staying home with you lazily, just the two of you relaxing together, enjoying simple moments. But they will surprise you now and then with romantic dates, travelling to some far away lands for some changes of scenery. You once said to them absentmindedly how you wish to do something, go somewhere? They will make that happen for you, unexpectedly, they like surprise gifts. These instances are when you can feel their playfulness the most visibly.

Other times, they will remain a practical and dependable person. They will make sure that you feel safe in the relationship. So they tend to hide a lot of their worries and doubts. If they're quiet or not communicative, it's likely that they're worrying about something. If you ask them what's wrong, they probably will brush it off and assure you that nothing is wrong. Just let them be for a while to collect their thoughts. They will come around and discuss it with you, with a clearer mind and trust.

CUBE 2

They will be a tease alright. You might sometimes be puzzled by their behaviour, are they just a bully, or are they being playful? This person has two sides to them, I think it's likely due to their upbringing or their environment that requires them to be accommodating and mild manner. Strangers, acquaintances, or even those who work closely with them will find them very charming, patient, and hard working. But when it comes to the person they love romantically, it's like something switched up inside them. They can act a little childish,snarky, and passionate around you, poking you here and there just to get a reaction. They love playing pranks on their lover. But not to the point of angering you or in a mean spirit way. For all their jokes and pranks, they do fulfil your desire for a perfect partner and also a friend. I think the way they act playfully like that is to match your energy. Whatever they do, they do it in consideration of you, so they never take the teasing too far, just enough to rile you up a little.

They like to ask your opinions on everything, purposefully create a debate with you, even when you share a similar viewpoint. They want to include you in every decision that they make, always a team, especially when the future of the relationship is concerned. If you have any dilemmas, they will always be there to help solve them with you.

You guys might be the couple that giggle with each other in public, sharing inside jokes and exchanging looks across the crowd. They would love to lean in and whisper to your ear. Their display of affection in public can be restrained and moderate, nothing offensive to the eyes of lonely hearts around you guys. But in general, they prefer to stay at home with you rather than go to a public place. Almost like being secluded with you, muting out all the noises outside. It's because they work a lot, they can be too absorbed in their work and spend many hours working. So when they can get off working, they want to relax with you. Your home together will be like a sanctuary to them.

They can act like a fixer sometimes, always eager to solve your problems for you. If you have some bad habits, they will push you to get rid of them, sometimes it can feel heavy-handed. But usually, the way they do it is sincere and charming enough for you to listen to them without resistance. One of their habits that you might be a little worried about is their spending habit, they have a loose attitude towards money, spending on whims. If they see something they fancy, they will not just buy it for themselves but for you too, they love matchy-matchy. Luckily, they don't act like that towards just everyone, only to the person closest to them.

CUBE 3

Your domestic life with this person will be so peaceful and fun. They just give a very stable and dependable energy without being rigid or overbearing. You will feel spoiled by them a lot. They will put you on top priority, trying to make life easier for you in every aspect. From small daily chore to important decisions like moving home or changing jobs, they want to be there for you and support you in everything. This person likes to share the workload with you, there's just no definite role in your relationship where one person is the bread winner while the other is the one who takes care of the house. Your relationship will be balanced, if one person is working, the other will do the housework, and vice versa. But they're especially proactive in making the mundane details comfortable for you, I think they're someone who enjoys doing chores around the house and taking care of their person. They like to iron your clothes for you, preparing meals, cleaning the house while you lay there relaxing.

But in that scenario where they're cleaning the house and you're relaxing, they'd like that moment to be when you guys can have some fun banter together. There's maybe a sense of duty when they're doing the work, but it's actually because they enjoy these small peaceful moments with you. They like to joke and tease you a lot. Talking with them will feel so easy and free flowing, you guys will never run out the things to talk about. Reminds me of birds chirping together on a branch in springtime. But they can also dive deep with more serious topics. The things they say are never superficial and shallow. What they say is what they do and what they think deeply about. They probably won't say something if they're not sure of it. You will feel like their words are the most dependable pillars. They're also very strategic, taking care steps in whatever plan they're executing, appraising the progress, and making adjustments when necessary. So life with them will feel like a sturdy ship that can weather any storms and still sail to the bright horizon ahead.

They have a strange blend of tenderness and passion. You won't have to doubt their desire for you, they'll be just very straightforward with you. But they're creative and flexible in their display of affection and they know various techniques to melt your heart. One moment they may act like an excited child asking their playmate to hang out with them. Other times, they act all assertive and self-assured that you feel like there's no one sexier. Another time, they will be silent and attentive, listen to your every dark thoughts that are clouding your mind. You will believe that as long as you're with them, nothing can hurt you, that you can relax and just be cosy in their arms, even when the world is cold and dangerous outside.

CUBE 4

This person could have some deep wounds that they hold in their heart for a long time. These wounds made them become cautious and value their independence a lot. They're not willing to sacrifice their personal values and autonomy for just anyone. So you might have a hard time getting closer to them in the beginning. The frustrating thing is, they're very charming as a person, they can say all the right words that can melt your heart in no time, they're a great conversationalist and a visionary, but only as an individual, in relationship, the more messy and problematic side will rear its head and make itself known. There's a very strong mental energy here. If you're the kind of person who values mental connection above all else and tends to lean on the logical side of thinking, you might not see much problem with them, for they can be a satisfying mental opponent for you. But if you're more sensitive and seek an emotional connection, both of you will have to compromise a lot to make it work.

You could feel that sometimes, their approach to the relationship with you and life in general can be aggressive or pushy. They like to take control of the situation and take charge of everything, including the small details of your life together. They want to do everything on their own, not exactly because they don't want you to lift a finger, but more because of the desire to take everything into their own hands, for efficiency. You will never have to doubt if they pay enough attention to you or not, sometimes, you might even wish that they don't give you so much attention, because it can feel a little antagonistic at times.

Communication is very important in your relationship. With your honest and straightforward feedback, they will slowly curb their impulsive tendency and be more gentle with you. The relationship with you will change their mindset a lot. They could be more high-strung and anxious in the past, but they will learn to relax more and be more appreciative of peace in the relationship. When they're relaxed and trust you more, they can be touchingly tender and romantic with their words. They probably like to go on many trips together with you, exploring the world around. You will feel that other people won't be able to understand the dynamic of your relationship and the unique experiences you share together. So you won't feel the need to compare your relationship with other people's, sure there are problems, but you wouldn't trade it for any other kinds. There's a strong element of getting out of the storm together, seeing each other's dark side and helping each other see the light.

They have a hidden passionate and wild side that's sleeping underneath layers of caution and anxiety. Their display of physical affection can be subdued and not too spontaneous, especially in the presence of other people. But they tend to talk or boast about you a lot in your absence. They will feel like loving you is their biggest victory, victory over their own limitations and fears. And they like to express that sense of pride with people, especially their friends.

[summertimesadnessirl]

The next step in the comic is when this person intentionally picks a fight with you. No matter what you say. No matter how you say it. Even if you discussed this before. Even if you came up with like, an action plan. Even if you carefully selected someone who you thought you could trust. Someone who would never.

If someone talks to you when you're overstimulated you should literally go ahead and start the fight yourself (I've never tried that but it's the one thing I haven't tried) because there is nothing you can do to stop the fight from happening. It is impossible. You got caught not being happy in public so now you probably lose this person as a friend or a useful ally or a significant other or a trusted person or whatever they are forever, and if you don't you are going to be at their mercy and owe them apology and deference for the rest of your relationship and they will never trust you and always pick fights with you and know that as soon as they goad you enough you will lose even if you're right so they can do anything they want and get away with it because you can't fucking control the volume of your voice. You're a loser. You're a baby. You're a monster. You're committing assault. You are not free. This is a cage. These are the bars of your cage. Anyone can lock you in it at any time for free. You begin to claw at your skin again, but it won't come off. It won't come off and you are too aware of it. People aren't watching. Thank God people aren't watching. If someone catches you clawing at your skin they will throw you in a cell for 72 hours. No one will actually do anything in the cell, but the government will take your tax refund for almost 6 years to pay for the cell and you will miss so much work you almost get evicted. Your boyfriend will yell at you a week after he cried and went down on you when you got out because you can't tell him how to fix your depression and the "emergency plan" you filled out with the doctor said "I have no idea just leave me alone in a corner someplace with my headphones." It's never about you. It's never about you. You aren't even allowed to die because your life is not your own. You can leave this boy but there will always be another boy. It could be a girl instead. They could be your "boss" or "friend" or "business partner." If they catch you unhappy in public they will also be a cage. Anyone can always turn into a cage. You wish you were actually in a cage most of the time, so you consider committing a crime. You think you could probably surprise your cell mate in prison with something weird enough that they would beat you to death or you would get solitary. That sounds easy. You only have to worry about one person and they also got thrown into a cage. They have a way you can lock them up, too. You don't care unless they can beat you to death. Pen stabbed into the brain. You can't hang yourself. You can't explain why you can't hang yourself. You are afraid death won't take if you hang yourself. You will wake up, somehow. You need it to be permanent. You need it to be over. Then you hear that in prison, they can force you to work in a call center.

They don't cover that part. That everyone wants you to be the biggest bitch in the world because then you don't get to be a person. They see that you are stressed out. They aren't fucking stupid. They want to make it worse because they want to hurt you. You learn that no one who says they are your friend will not sell you out. Will not gaslight you. Will not trick you or trap you or force you. Other people keep telling you to stop being avoidant and ask for help.

[mostly-imagines]

The noise has everyone startled but none like Jason. It was just specific enough that it resembled a very distinct clang of metal that brought forth a memory that was the wrong kind of surreal. Jason jumps up from his seat, hands flying up in front of him. His breathing is heavy and his body is tense as he braces for pain.

Dick immediately jumps into big brother mode, though knowing he’s never had much success before with Jason. He holds his hands out in front of him on reflex, like he’s ready to restrain a frightened animal.

Jason shoves him out of the way (expected). Jason lumbers over to you and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck (unexpected).

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Your voice has lowered significantly and Dick can barely make out your words. He guesses that was probably the point. He clocks that Jason's breathing is heavy and he’s trying desperately to nudge you out of the room, likely wanting to be out of sight of his brother. You hold him steady though, cupping his face in your hands. Jason's head drops into your shoulder, holding your forearms to keep him anchored. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, rubbing soothing patterns against his skin. His chest starts inhaling faster with very little exhale and his grip on you tightens.

“Breathe, Jay.”      

Oh don’t tell him that, he does not like hearing that. The last time Dick tried to comfort him with those words he ended up getting clocked in the face.

“Breathe. In…Out…” he does as instructed, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, repeating as told. It doesn’t take long at all for his breathing to revert back to its normal pace, posture relaxing.

…What?

Dick stands there dumbly, watching his little brother not only allow but embrace blatant affection. For once, he has nothing to say. He’s not even sure he can think right.

There hasn’t been a single moment since Jason returned that Dick had even had the chance to consider him being happy, in love. He’d come back so full of anger and resentment that it was borderline impossible to see through to any of who he used to be. A carefree, jovial kid. He’d hate to say it, but even after Jason came back to life, he thought that kid was still dead and gone. Everyone did, but…this is gentle and delicate. This is a side of Jason that he mourned and made his peace that he’d never see again.

But now Jason picks his head up and kisses your cheek, whispering something before pulling away. You murmur back to him softly, and Dick can only make out the word ‘water’ from his place across the room. Jason nods slowly, reluctantly releasing his hold on your wrists as you head out of the room.

He slumps into an armchair nearby and barely meets Dick’s stare before averting his gaze, muttering something like “Fuck off,” Dick just blinks, thoroughly thrown by the Jekyll-and-Hyde-like change in his brother’s attitude. He opens his mouth, though no noise comes out.

You return promptly, glass of water in hand. You give it to Jason, leaning lightly over the arm of his chair. He downs the water quickly, setting it on the coaster next to him and pulling your full weight onto the chair, holding you close. You look over at Dick, who’s still staring at you like he just saw the Easter Bunny walk into the room and steal a lamp. 

“What?” you ask him curiously, lacking all of the snap that he usually hears with the question from his brothers.

He stammers, “Uh…” Jason looks up at him, glaring. “Nothing.”

You tilt your head at him, silently inquiring about what he’s thinking. Dick ignores your gaze, turning back to his cards that had fallen somewhere in the course of the ado.

You furrow your brow and turn your attention back to Jason, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He lets his head lull to the side and rest against your shoulder.

You move your hand higher up in his hair, “Do you want to eat? Just a banana or something?”

He blinks, eyes heavy, “Yeah, I’ll—” he stops you from standing up again, rising to his feet himself. “I’ll go, it’s alright.”

He exits the room sluggishly and you redirect your gaze over to Dick who’s once again focused intently on the cards. You move over to where he’s sat on the ground, crouching on the opposite side of his pyramid-in-progress. “What was that look for?”

Dick blinks up at you, not sure that it’s in his best interest to answer that question. “Um…just surprised me.” he gets out, “How fast you got Jason to calm down.”

You sit back on your heels. “Oh. I guess so.”

Dick shakes his head quickly, “No, that was honestly like a magic trick. How did you do that?”

You gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“I mean one time he pulled a gun on me when I tried to hug him. More than one time, actually,” He grimaces. “So did you, like…brainwash him or something? It’s okay, I won’t tell him, it clearly worked.”

You laugh, not acknowledging the at least partial sincerity in the question. “He’s just difficult to warm up, you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I could leave him in the toaster oven for ten years and he still wouldn’t warm up to me like that.”

Your smile is accompanied by the raise of an eyebrow, “Well I’m not his brother, so that would be part of it.” You pick up a fallen spade from the floor, setting it atop his scattered pile. “I mean we live together, I’d be pretty ill-suited at my job if I couldn’t at least get him back to baseline by now.”

He squints at you, “You live together?”

You waver awkwardly, “..He said he told you.”

He smiles at that, genuinely, “Anytime Jason says he told anyone in this family anything, he’s lying.”

The call of your name from the doorway has you turning around, smiling. Jason holds his hand out to you and you happily cross the room to take it. The second you’re by his side he picks up the armchair throw pillow with his free hand and chuck it at Dick, successfully knocking him in the face and knocking his half-remade tower to shambles.

[wardensantoineandevka]

There's been a lot of talk about feeling like Campaign 3 fails to carry through consequences, and that is often met with criticisms framing this talk as just wanting Bells Hells or other characters to die or be punished. In return, the response to that is that "consequences" is not necessarily negative — it simply means a narrative follow through and events positive, neutral, or yes even negative happening as a consequence of what came prior.

I posted prior about what I and many meant by consequences, but generally, "a lack of consequence" means that it feels like events happen without clear connective tissue to previous events or it feels like things happen and don't feel like they're feeding properly into what comes next, that following events aren't properly carrying that weight of consequence.

But, just to further illustrate the discussion, the following is a non-exhaustive list of things I personally wish had consequences (that I could be probably better articulating):

Prism, Deanna, and FRIDA going off to do research at the Cobalt Soul, explicitly intending to try to help Bells Hells. This yielded nothing. Even a written letter to the Hells giving any information would have been great to have as a nod to that decision being made and the effort put into cultivating those friendships. (Given the reveal in the Fireside Chat that a Luxon beacon could've destroyed Predathos should research have been done, this feels even more of a missed follow through.)

The Unseelie Court not reinforcing the Malleus Key having clearer consequences. Obviously, there was a benefit to this, but it's hard to FEEL the consequences of disrupting that message because it is not clear what exactly the Unseelie Court would have provided.

Liliana chose not to broadcast the Downfall memory and what that meant to the sociopolitical scale. There is a clear consequence for her on a personal level, but this information being potentially broadcast was set up as a big looming threat, but it was difficult to really feel what would have happened, like, meaningfully, in terms of the material narrative as it affects Bells Hells, if it was broadcast, so as a result it's difficult to feel that stopping the broadcast was meaningful on a broader level.

Talking about Liliana, it feels strange that she exists within Vasselheim as a top leader of the Ruby Vanguard for, like, days without any comment. There is more (and properly delivered) tension over Opal's presence in the city. I don't think Liliana necessarily should've been arrested, I felt something like a small beat that may have required Imogen vouching for her was missing. The consequences of Liliana's position among the antagonists felt absent.

Ashton getting Shady Sally to agree to get the Nobodies back together to help save Exandria, then they'd all be free of Ashton for good. Nothing comes of this! An appearance at the forward camp in the Hellcatch when they came back from Ruidus or in Vasselheim, after the camp is evacuated there, with another opportunity to settle it with the others in the group would have been a nice consequence.

The Grim Verity, especially outside of Ryn, continued to meaningfully exist and the theft of the texts from Vasselheim mattered past the Predathos, Vordo, and Ethedok reveal exposition. It was a team of three people who stole the texts, and one of them, Arnold, was captured and presumed still held at the Platinum Sanctuary and another, Janina, was keeping tabs on the excavation site in the Hellcatch to keep everyone updated on what the Vanguard was doing. It would have been nice to see the Grim Verity more involved in this campaign, because they're the initial hook into the campaign itself! Learning about them and making contact with them stopped yielding any sort of narrative results. (The thing about research in the first point applies here too.)

Judicators. They are introduced, and then nothing is done with them at all. They factor in so minutely, and we understand so little about them, that it's hard to even talk about them as thematic pieces without engaging in a lot of speculative thinking.

I am known to be frustrated with Ashton philosophically, but I am baffled that the conversation they had in their vision in the earth titan in 110 did not come up again at all in any of their subsequent argumentations about the world changing. I am certain that it would've driven me nuts, but I have liked to see that carried forward. It would've contributed a lot to feeling like perspectives were being built upon as a consequence of interactions.

Generally, the Titans are barely mentioned after that episode, btw. There was a lot of time spent on pursuing the idea of the Titans, even sometimes outright brushing past NPCs who repeatedly said that the Titans were dead, only for it to get dropped so suddenly. It feels especially strange when one of the major points of contention Ashton and Laudna brought up was the war against the Titans. Not even a final note about what this means in the tapestry of history or an acknowledgement that they indeed cannot be restored as they were or what? We spent a lot of time on this discussion, but fail to carry it through into the final thematic and philosophical decisions.

On that note, it's established that there is a destiny in which Ashton is to bestow the spark onto another, and there is a sense of fate then for Fearne in it. Since they both struggle with being locked into a path, I did feel missing an exploration of what it then MEANT for them to pursue this. As soon as these abilities are unlocked, there isn't a meaningfully thorough exploration of what they mean as narrative devices and their implications for Fearne and Ashton, at a personally transformative level.

The anti-resurrection toxin and its antidote. I know that it is used against Keyleth and there is a payoff in that the Hells successfully help her, but I don't understand why this toxin didn't continue to be used, especially given the campaign was supposed to be deadlier. Why wouldn't the Ruby Vanguard, but especially someone as vicious and ruthless as Otohan, continue to use it? It had such a prominent presence in the campaign and then vanished from it. We don't even have a sense of how it locked away divine magic and what connection it has to Ruidians or Predathos, which have similar divine dampening ability. Having it continue to be used in the campaign would've also made it continually rewarding that Bells Hells did that work to help Keyleth because the Air Ashari would have available antidote.

Stopping there not because I ran out of examples, but because this list is getting incredibly long — thought I reserve the right to add more later should I think of really good ones. But this is just some of the plot points and threads and conversations that I wish I felt led somewhere or had consequences, and you can see that not all of them are about punishing characters at all, just a desire for things to feel like they were going somewhere and were properly tied off.

[smuttysabina]

AriaSaki Earns Some Mortgage Money

(Aria Saki x Male Reader, 5.3K Words) Tags: Prostitution, Regrets from selling your body, Getting off to selling your body, Unexpected creampies, Vaginal and Oral Sex, Tittyfucking, She really should just release an Onlyfans, No handholding, Protected Sex (lol)

AriaSaki looks glumly at her computer screen, her eyes glazed over as she wracks her brain for some way out of her current predicament; her mortgage. Who knew something so mundane could bring so much stress? How was Aria supposed to have known that her org contract would fall through literally right after she bought herself a house! So she had spent the last year streaming constantly, doing everything she could to make her monthly payments, going live for days on end to try and make it through another pay period. I mean sure, she had also been splurging on pets, oh and on Pokemon cards, and on figurines, and... um well lots of things actually. But now Aria was truly struggling to keep up, and she had no idea how to make things better. She had spent her early years as a cumdump for LCS players, before transitioning to helping the nascent OTV group around the house, and then finally moving to streaming fulltime herself; aside from her cooking skills, she didn't have much to make a living with if streaming fell through. Well, there was one asset she still had left, but her parents would disown her if she started an Onlyfans to show off her voluptuous body to her fans; so she couldn't do that! Even that slut Jaime was coy about openly showing herself off, she would just tease on camera but keep the juicy stuff for her rich benefactors... Wait a minute, if Aria couldn't sell her body online, what if she could sell it in person?

Aria shudders in revulsion, was she seriously considering prostituting herself for some easy cash? Yes, yes she was...

You had always enjoyed perusing the escort listings, imagining yourself with the girls on display, stroking furiously to the thought of spending your hard earned cash on the chance to cum inside a woman. Of course, you had never actually paid to sleep with a prostitute, it was just arousing to browse and fantasize, especially since some of the girl's prices were nothing short of absurd. You nearly choke on your own spit as you read one listing, ten-thousand dollars for only one hour! At that price you might as well rent her for a whole year, and though her body was nicely shaped, there was no way she could possibly be worth so much. You shake your head in disbelief, what sort of moron would burn so much money on a simple fling? Probably just some rich brats who didn't know any better, and the escort's face was even blurred out as well, this was more likely than not just a scam. But that haircut did look oddly familiar... Frowning, you scrutinize the few pictures the lady of the night had on display, realization scratching at the rear of your brain as your mind attempts to connect the dots it had been given. You had seen her before, you were sure of it, though from where... You continue to beat your meat even as you drink in the sight of those saggy tits framed by that severe hime haircut, a sense of deja-vu filling you as you discern that you had masturbated to this view before. Your eyes boggle as realization finally dawns, perhaps $10,000 an hour was not too steep a price to pay after all...

Almost a week later, and you found yourself standing in front of an upscale hotel room door. If anything, the past week of paperwork and extensive background checks had left you even more convinced that the girl you were about to meet was in fact AriaSaki. You had signed no less than five separate NDAs, each more strictly worded than the last and filled to the brim with draconian punishments should you even think about this encounter in public. And the fact that she had dredged up drama from back in middle school to confront you about indicated that this was someone with a paranoid streak more than a little wide. The fact that the hourly rate was so obscenely high also was a glaring indicator, Aria had always been wont to splurge, and so probably was looking to buy all sorts of expensive junk to hoard. So you continue to wait awkwardly in front of the door, having knocked several times already, with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you had somehow been scammed and that this entire endeavor had been a complete waste of time. But before you turn to leave with a heavy heart, several loud clunks sound from the entryway, and the door opens a smidgen, allowing an elegant hand to reach from the darkness within and frantically beckon you inside.

You gingerly push open the door, stepping past the lady into the gloomily lit interior, before it is shut behind you and thoroughly locked. You turn to examine her, but she hurries past you into the hotel room, before collecting herself with a huff, clearly she was as nervous about this as you were. In the dim lighting you strain to make out her features, her face concealed behind a dark facemask with her olive-shaped eyes peering out above it; her hair was shorter than in her photos, but it matched how Aria's hair had looked on stream recently. Her voluptuous body was tightly constrained by a sleek black dress, showing off her noticeable curves without making her look like, well, a whore. The woman coughs before speaking in a rather familiar voice, "Okay, so before we do anything, you're going to need to transfer the money over to my account," she holds out her phone, with her bank account's QR showing on the screen. You dutifully pull up her account on your payment app, hesitating a moment before tapping in the desired amount to transfer. $20,000 might take a while to work off, but it would certainly be worth it... The girl sighs in disbelief as the notification pops up on her phone, "Wow. So this is for... two hours then? Whew!" she appears to hyperventilate for a moment before calming down and giving you a nod, and slowly undoes her mask to full reveal the face of your favorite streamer: AriaSaki

Aria grimaces awkwardly at you, "Okay, so I have never done this before so, um, I guess let's get this over with then?" She starts walking towards the bed before whirling, "Wait! Okay, um, so no anal, no oral, no kissing, don't ejaculate on me, I won't give you a blowjob, and you have to use a condom at all times, got it?" She glares sternly at you before you agree fully to her terms, and only then does she stalk towards her bed, grabbing a plastic tray from the nightstand and placing it beside her as she clambers onto the mattress. Aria gets on her hands and knees, her back inexpertly arched as she looks back at you in trepidation, "Um, I don't know how large your... penis is, so there's a bunch of different sizes in the tray. Oh! And lube." Then she waits, studiously ignoring you as you undress, and she twitches nervously as you climb onto the bed behind her. Feeling a little let down by the lack of intimacy, you nonetheless find your manhood fully interested in the situation, and you rummage through the tray before finding the correct size to cover it. Your cock's enthusiasm remains undiminished even after sheathing it in cool latex, and you crawl forward on your knees until you are in position behind the streamer. Aria flinches when you pull her dress up over her waist, revealing her pale ass that neatly compliments her juicy thighs; and nestled between her cheeks was the thing you had been lusting after for years.

AriaSaki's pussy was a deep brown, its sunken shape endowed with some sizable lips that were no doubt the reason her camel-toe showed up so easily. And of course, like the lovable gamer gremlin that she was, she had obviously not bothered to shave in several weeks; well at least she had showered recently, you had been somewhat worried she would not have... Aria stirs nervously, "Are you done looking at me, are you not going to stick it in?" Remembering her warning, you apply a hefty dollop of lube to your dick before grasping her waist with one hand to hold her steady as you guide yourself in. Your tip presses against her folds before angling upwards enough to find her entrance, slipping suddenly inside of Aria's hole and causing her to jolt in surprise. Aria lets out a despairing groan as your cock fills her pussy, "I cannot fucking believe I'm actually doing this right now..." Whatever reservations Aria might be feeling went ignored by you as the sordid heat of her cunt can be felt even through the condom, and the pressure of her folds around her shaft had your eyes rolling. The streamer placidly stays in position as you thrust away at her rear, her lack of enthusiasm not bothering you in the slightest due to how excited you were to be fucking AriaSaki herself! This truly was a wet dream come true...

The steady slap of flesh fills the room as you plow Aria's bent-over form, the streamer gasping and groaning in a mixture of disgust and natural pleasure; her pussy cared not a whit about the moral implications of this coupling, merely that it was being filled. So as you continue to fuck her, the wet squelching noises that accompanied your sex seem to be growing louder with every passing minute, until... Until you can't hold on any longer, and with a moan you clutch at the streamer's waist as you thrust as deep as possible inside of her, your cock pulsating with pleasure as it fills the condom with semen. Aria gasps at your sudden motion, her butt clenching rhythmically as her body shudders, and you feel a film of wetness drips down your balls, "Oh my fucking god, did I just... from this?" Aria whines in horror, "What kind of slut climaxes just from some random guy cumming in her?" She buries her face in a pillow and screams into it, her feet drumming against the mattress. Once her tantrum subsides though, a red-faced Aria looks back at you and asks petulantly, "Are you going to pull out, or do I have to feel you going soft inside of me?" With such a bitchy attitude, in your post-coital clarity you were starting to question whether even your favorite was worth nutting inside for 20,000 dollars.

Acceding to Aria's wishes, you gingerly unmount her, allowing your cock to slip out, along with the reservoir of semen dangling from the tip of it. The streamer collapses onto her side, and then gawps when she spots the massive load contained within your condom, "What the heck," she squawks, tentatively poking at the yolk-like mass of jizz hanging from the end of your dick, "That would... that would have all gone... in me?" You blush at Aria's prodding, you had saved up all week for her, but even you were shocked by the sheer quantity of cum you had unloaded for her; and that had been with minimal help from her as well. When you start to remove the condom she stops you though, seemingly mesmerized by what it contains. Aria breathes rapidly, and appears unaware that one of her hands is getting rather busy between her thighs, as her face slowly moves closer to the object of her obsession, "I-I came, I came from this?" Aria's face becomes completely flushed as she masturbates while you watch, "I-I'm a slut!" she gasps out, her fingers furiously churning her cunt, "I'm a prostitute, a fucking whore, oh fuck it feels so good!" Aria's eyes narrow as she drowns her shame in a tide of lust, she knew what she was doing was wrong, and it filled her with a lustful mania to be doing it. She pants as her tongue lolls, and she hesitantly licks the swaying sack of seed, before letting out a sultry groan as she orgasms, her entire body shivering until it passes; and she looks up and gives you a lascivious smile.

AriaSaki reaches up and gently removes your condom for you, though you had grown so flaccid that it was about to fall off anyways, and then to your complete shock, empties it into her mouth. The streamer lets out a muffled moan as your thickening seed fills her mouth, her tongue visibly roiling it around as she savors the harsh taste of your semen. Well savor might perhaps be a touch too strong a word, as Aria gags violently, nearly expelling the load all over the bed before recovering and returning to attempting to swallow it. All the while her finger's continue to be busy stirring her slit, as she fights to overcome her disgust through sheer pleasure; until with a grimace the foul fluid slides down her throat. Aria trembles as yet another round of squelches come from between her shivering thighs, and when she opens her eyes again to stare up at you, her face is a mask of arousal. Her ample chest heaves as she struggles to breathe, "I think... I think I'm down for round two..." Aria glances at your cock and seems unsurprised that it is nearly fully erect once more. Naturally, watching your favorite streamer swallow your cum while masturbating, had indeed made you hard once more, powering through the aftereffects of your first orgasm with gusto.

Aria tentatively grasps your cock, slowly stroking it while judging your reactions, "Are you ready for it again?" she asks, making you nod frantically in affirmation, causing a sultry smile to spread across her lips, "Fuck, I'm ready for it again..." The streamer promptly turns about and bends over once more, though this time her back is lasciviously arched and she spreads her cheeks with both hands. She coughs pointedly when you slap your bare member against her slit however, even lost in a fugue of lust, she still expects you to wear protection. This time when you take Aria from behind, she is far more vocal about it, screeching into the sheets while your cock churns her sopping cunt until it is gushing all down her thighs, wailing for you to fuck her harder. The slap of her surprisingly well-sized cheeks against your crotch echoes around the room as you relentlessly plow her, now you truly felt like you were getting your money's worth pounding away at AriaSaki's sloppy pussy! Her folds tighten greedily around your shaft as you fill her, desperate for the seed that would invariably fill the condom, yet dumbly hungry for it anyways. Your core burning from your efforts, you slow down, switching to slow, long thrusts as you struggle to catch your breath. Aria glances back at you in confusion, tears glistening on her cheeks, "Wait, did you finish already?" she says in exasperation before hearing your frantic denials, "Okay good. Want to swap positions?"

After taking a minute to recover, Aria rolls onto her back and spreads her legs for you, showing off the sopping mess you helped make between her lower lips. She smirks as you lean down to closely examine her pussy, drinking in the details that you missed during your only cursory inspection of it framed by her butt. Aria puts a hand on your head and guides you in, gasping with delight as you dig into her swollen folds, "Oh fuck yes, taste it, fucking eat it!", she quivers delightfully as your tongue laps its way up her slit, "Fuck I cannot believe this feels so good..." By the time you are finished, a fresh slick of juices spills out and soaks her asshole, and she is more than ready, and you more than rested, to continue. With a sleazy grin, Aria pulls her legs back until they are behind her head, her meaty tits squished between them, and her pussy completely vulnerable to your attentions. As you slap your hardening dick against her, you comment on how much she looks like a fleshlight like that, which only seems to excite her even more, "Oh yeah? Does it turn you on thinking I'm just a filthy pocket pussy for you to dump your loads into? That I'm just a whore addicted to random guy's fucking cocks?" she snarls up at you. Well, she said it first...

You mount Aria then and there, slipping your covered cock into her hole and placing yourself atop her thighs, your body weight squishing down onto her in a classic mating press position. Your sex was fantastically intimate, face-to-face as your manhood plunges deep inside of her, it was only natural that you begin to sloppily make out; you had already fucked her twice and this was the first time you had kissed her. Aria's lips were as soft as you had expected, though her tongue was almost off-puttingly aggressive as it forces its way into your mouth. As enjoyable as being pressed against your favorite streamer with her arms locked tightly around you was however, your thighs were already starting to scream from the effort; this position was far more difficult than porn had made it out to be... So after taking a short rest laying on her soft body you reluctantly pull out of her embrace, much to her obvious bemusement at your lack of stamina. You haul Aria to the edge of the bed, her dress dragging against the sheets, bunching uncomfortably up against her breasts and revealing her fertile belly. Who blushes at the reveal of her somewhat pronounced tummy, but she is soon distracted from her gloomy thoughts as you spank her clit with your cock once more.

Now you are able to get more solid thrusts in, while being able to grind your member deep inside of Aria's guts had been quite pleasant, pounding away at her contorted body like a cheap toy was even better. And Aria seems to agree, if her rising voice is any indicator; soon she is howling as loudly as she had been when you had mounted her from behind for the second time. Grasping her sweaty thighs to hold her steady, you relentlessly slam your cock into her sloppy folds, her juices soaking the sheets beneath her as she leaks uncontrollably, "Oh fuck, I'm getting used," Aria groans, "My pussy is getting used like a fucking onahole, why does it feel so good to be a fucking whore?" Her cunt sloshes excitedly, squelching loudly as her entire body starts to quiver, "Fuck, it's happening again! I'm fucking cumming again! Oh god, oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!" Aria gasps as a stream of fluids gushes out of her pussy, her eyes rolling back as she shudders, squirt spraying with every convulsion as her folds spasm around your shaft. You nearly join her in orgasm, but her shaking is so violent is expels your cock, the streamer unfolding herself and laying on her side until the pleasure surging through her finally subsides. Aria looks blearily up at you, "Fuck... I haven't squirted in like a year... Why am I enjoying this so much?"

Shaking off her reflective lapse in arousal, Aria returns to her cock-hungry state for ignoring the moral implications of selling her body, and needily spreads her legs for you once more. But after that last effort, you were exhausted, sweat slicking your skin while your back and abs scream with soreness, you might need a few minutes... But Aria doesn't have a few minutes to wait and ponder her situation, so instead she orders you back onto the bed, "Okay, just... just lay down, I'll get on top this time..." You are admittedly more than happy to let her take charge, her bossy attitude while streaming had always scratched at a particular itch, and your dick shows its enthusiasm by staying at attention. So you clamber onto the bed and settle down onto your back, your condom-sheathed cock resting stickily upon your chest, the rubber made almost opaque from Aria's juices. The streamer winces as she straddles you, her own legs a touch cramped after spasming while stuck behind her head, but she shows no sign of stopping to stretch out a little. Instead she seems intent on stretching out her pussy some more using your manhood, as she slides salaciously upon it, smearing yet more of her honey onto it. Giving into a whim, you reach up and yank the top of her dress down, allowing one boob to pop out while the other remains awkwardly caught in the tight fabric.

Rolling her eyes, Aria properly pulls her breasts out for you and leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her weighty tits sagging down her chest. She seems somewhat self-conscious about showing them off, but you are quick to reassure her by vigorously groping those flesh globes. Aria's thick, brown nipples harden quickly from your attentions, her pillowy boobs so large they are nearly spilling out of your hands, "Geez, you guys always love these so much, don't you?" she sighs, grinding all the harder upon your member, "Fuck, I need it..." Letting you continue to freely maul her tits, Aria squats over your cock, pulling it upright against her folds before sitting on it. You both groan as your dick slides into the familiar warmth of her pussy, the streamer taking it to the hilt and pressing her puffy lower lips against your crotch. Slowly, but swiftly starting to speed up, AriaSaki rides your cock, her thighs pistoning up and down your length with a frantic energy, her juices splattering across your chest with every bounce. Her face is beet ride as she fucks you, before she had been able justify her shameful arousal from letting a stranger use her for money with her passivity, but now that she was on top, she had no excuse to be enjoying this as much as she was, "Oh fuck!" she screams, "I'm a fucking whore! I'm a fucking whore! I'm fucking cumming on some rando's cock like a slut! Fuck, this feels too good!"

A fresh gush of squirt heralds Aria's climax, and she collapses down onto you, shuddering uncontrollably as her cunt floods her brain with pleasure. Your hands fervently roam her back, groping her squishy ass with glee until she recovers enough to continue riding you once more. Her pussy was so wet you could practically feel it slathering your shaft with every bounce, and it's burning heat made it feel as if you were not wearing a condom at all. Aria's messy hair sticks to her sweaty face as she fucks you, her face locked in a paroxysm of lust, "You fucking love it, don't you?" she salaciously licks her lips, "You love watching your favorite streamer turn into a slut for you? You love watching me begging it for it? Fucking give it to me!" she snarls, "I want your fucking cum!" she shrieks as she slams herself down onto you again and again, her folds gripping you like a vice. Having nearly finished twice already, your balls were more than ready to mindlessly empty themselves into this virile slut, and you hold desperately onto her waist as she rides your load out of you; her breasts flopping wildly as she does so. With a loud moan, you creampie AriaSaki, every fresh spurt of cum sending shivers through your body, filling the condom to capacity with your thick seed. The streamer quivers atop you, your sweaty skin stuck together as you both gasp for breath, and you felt as if you had just lost a year of life from orgasming so hard. Aria smiles blearily down at you before her face twists in confusion, "Wait, why is it...?"

Aria scrambles up off of you, hurriedly unmounting you before shoving her fingers into her cunt before dragging out a string of creamy fluid. She looks at the goop coating her fingers in shock, before you both look down at your cock as realization dawns; it turns out you had been feeling her wetness. Several inches of bare skin stands proudly above the yellow wrapping of the torn condom, streaked with your conjoined juices; insufferably proud of itself. Aria gawps at it for several moments before stammering, "Wait wait wait wait, that means... oh gOD YOU CAME IN ME?" she frantically scoops out yet more of your semen, hyperventilating as she processes the scale of this disaster, if it was as big as your last load then... "Oh FUCK," she groans in despair, "Am I gonna get pregnant? Did I really just get knocked up by some random guy?" her fingers stop scooping and instead start churning instead, "Fuck this is so risky! I need to... I need to..." her eyes roll back as she shudders once more, too busy drowning in pleasure to do anything about the unwanted creampie drying in her cunt. Desperate to continue outrunning the inevitable crash, she tears the remains of the condom off before bending down and taking you in her mouth.

Aria throws herself into the blowjob with reckless enthusiasm, her teeth scratching against your shaft while she gags violently from your tip banging against the back of her throat. You wince as your cockhead grinds against her molars, and you hesitantly suggest you take this to the edge of the bed once more...? "Oh, um okay?" Aria looks up at you in confusion, clearly worried that she was doing something wrong. She understands though when you get her to lay on the mattress, her head tilted back over the edge, and her tongue lolls expectantly as you rest your dick against it. Your brain was working overtime to overcome the usual post-climax downtime, and the stimulation from Aria's hole would assist greatly in that. And this time when you fill her mouth, you are easily able to push onwards into her throat. The streamer gurgles as your meat fills her throat, and a noticeable bulge shows in her neck, the sight of which dispels any lingering hesitations. Grunting like a beast, you fuck Aria's face with abandon, your cock roughly stuffing itself down her hole again and again, her Adam's apple bobbing frantically as she struggles to breathe. Spittle pours out of her mouth and erupts out of her nostrils as your balls slap against her nose, running down her forehead and into her hair while she steadily continues to masturbate even as her mouth is getting abused. Her breasts wobble enticingly upon her heaving chest while you relish the warm, wet hole you are fucking, and you know how you want to finish.

You pull out of Aria's mouth, and your dick is soon followed by a fresh gush of spittle that pours down her face as she gasps for air. She hurriedly scoops the frothy fluids out of her eyes as you haul her back onto the bed and clamber onto her chest, and she smirks knowingly as you grope her breasts, "You fucking want-" she coughs, "my fucking tits don't you?" her hands shove yours off of her breasts so she can squish them around your cock, and you start thrusting before she is even able to position it properly. You groan as the soft flesh of her boobs presses in around your shaft, it felt even better than you had fantasized, and you feel your balls quickly rising as you continue to hump her chest. Aria bites her lip and nods frantically, "Oh yeah, you fucking love my boobs, don't you? How many times have you beat your cock to my huge fucking tits?" she leans forward and sticks her tongue out, licking at your tip whenever it peeks out between her fleshy mounds, "I know you fap to me all the time, thinking about me on my knees with my slutty fucking tits out out for you... Yeah? Yeah you fucking do you fucking pervert! Oh fuck! Do it, fucking do it!" You are almost blubbering as you reach your orgasm, desperately fucking AriaSaki's massive breasts while she naughtily urges you on, precum already slopping out down her neck. With a howl you explode between her boobs, your load filling her cleavage before your cock slips out and your next ropes splatter against her open mouth and face. You frantically stroke your dick, working out the last dregs of sperm from you balls as you cover Aria's nipples with thick globs of cum, "Oh fuck yes," Aria exults as you paint her chest with your semen.

Aria happily sucks you clean, and while she does an idea pops into your head that you cannot ignore. You reach for your phone, which surprisingly had not been launched off the bed by your vigorous sex, and the streamer smiles dreamily as you hold it above her. You heart hammers as you drink in the sight through your camera: the famous AriaSaki with your softening cock resting between her tits, her breasts streaked with sweat and lines of cum, throwing up a double peace-sign while her spittle and jizz slathered face was twisted into the most depraved ahegao you had ever seen. It was almost enough to get you hard again, almost. But then Aria's alarm goes off on her phone, and you both glance over at it, realizing that your two hours were up, just in time. The streamer coughs awkwardly, and you scramble off her as she woozily lurches upright, giving you a shell-shocked look as she processes what she had just done. Sure, she was up 20,000 dollars, but now she had a stranger's semen roiling in her stomach, his sperm was wriggling its way into her womb, and his load covered her entire upper body. Aria lets out an exhausted sigh, before giving you a gloomy glare, "I think you should leave now," she says testily, before collapsing back onto the stained sheets. Not wanting to endure her infamous rages (by this point the poor neighbors had probably heard enough screaming already), you hastily dress before departing. And as you leave you hear her groan, "Oh my fucking god, he CAME IN FUCKING PUSSY! NEVER! NEVER AGAIN!", and you promptly slam the door shut to drown out the rest of her enraged shrieks.

A month later and you were at it again, perusing the backpages for hot escorts to masturbate to. Your time spent with Aria if anything had increased your arousal towards escorts, and when you were not pounding one out to her streams or your own memories of your time with her, or even that picture, you were pumping away to images of some lady of the night. Your heart nearly stops though when you come across a familiar advertisement for an insane price, it couldn't be. She said she would never do it again... But when you open it, you see that it was posted recently, and unlike before the description now was for a "No limits prostitute, please get tested so that you can fuck me raw in any way you want, my curvy Asian body is yours to use!" You are shaking as you type out a message, inquiring when she would next be available, and you almost pass out when you receive a response. A lewd selfie of Aria with her tongue sticking out, her arm pushing up her fat tits, precedes the message: "You again? Make sure to get tested this time so you can fuck me bareback properly this time! I love being your nasty little whore..."

Well, it seems like you will be spending the rest of your life ruinously in debt, but at least you will be spending it balls deep inside of AriaSaki's pussy!

[star2fishmeg]

i feel like luke would want to get married young… like he would probably be with his high school sweetheart and just jump for the gun at 21 bc like? they’ve already been together for so long??

idk..

That's v interesting nonnie! I feel he'd tie the knot at roughly youngest 25-ish with someone he met in university, only bc 21 is so so young and there's factors such as cohabitation too. He's only just started his pro career and your 20s is a lot about navigating the world. He may propose at 21, mind you, if he's 100% certain.

You're lying on the sofa watching a movie when he drops the words. He's leaning back into the cushions while you’re lying on his chest, playing with the toggle of his hoodie mindlessly as his hands soothe over back and under your t-shirt.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" he asks out of the blue, clearly his minds been dwelling on something for days.

You pause, your heart beating just that little bit harder yet anxiety twists in your stomach, "I mean, yeah. One day."

"Cool," you feel him nod, his arms winding around your waist and holding you tighter, "does it scare you?"

You prop yourself onto your forearms, catching a glimpse of the look in his eye. It's apprehension. He's chewing his lip slightly as if he has something desperate on his mind, but the thought itself terrifies him. In the three or four years of knowing Luke, spending a lot of time with him, you've picked up his tells.

"Lu, what is this about? You're scaring me."

"Oh fuck, no." His hands slide to your hips, his eyes steadying on yours, "Y/n...well...um...shit, I love you with my whole heart, and you know that. It's just, uh, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about, you know...marrying you...as soon as possible."

A deep, shaky exhale leaves your nose, "Oh, Lu...you're so sweet bu-"

"-Wait. I think about it all the time and there isn't anyone I would rather be with for the rest of my life. You've been there from the start and you're still here now, you put up with the schedules and you're everything I've ever dreamed of. I don't have a ring, but would you, at least, consider marrying me?" he manages to fumble out, fingers digging into the fabric of your t-shirt.

In times like this, you really suck at finding the words. You're twenty-one, what are you supposed to say? Your lips part but nothing leaves them, and it worries Luke. He thinks he's screwed up, driven you away, said something he'll regret for the rest of his life because he couldn't just think it through more.

"One day." You smile, cupping his cheek and caressing your thumb over his cheekbone. "Yes, one day, I will marry you. But you better have a more thought through speech than that, mister. And for now, let's take it one step at a time, m'kay?"

" One step at a time." he nods, grinning from ear to ear with a glimmer in his eyes. His chest feels fuzzy, and he has this skittish, electric feeling running through him that makes him was to run laps around his apartment. "And yeah, next time, I'll propose better than that and have ring, I'm working on it."

Somehow, you're not surprised he's already putting that together. You only giggle at him, lying back down on his chest and listening to his heart pound in his chest, his arms wrap tightly around your again and one day, you'll be Mrs. Hughes.

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[sinmartini]

"cherry flavored." // clark kent

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: getting clark kent's attention isn't for the weak. fortunately, you have a few tricks up your sleeve. wc: 1954 warnings: implications of oral, fingering (f receiving), slight miscommunication, pet names, fem!reader, established relationship, not proofread.

Clark Kent was somewhat of an enigma. Sometimes it was like the two of you were dancing through life with one another, bodies intertwined, a smile plastered on his face. You were almost positive that smile would hurt his cheeks if his muscles were a fraction as sensitive as yours. Other times, you felt like an afterthought in his life, like a nuisance clinging to him he could only hope to be rid of.

It’s been hard to get Clark’s attention recently, his mind constantly cluttered with thoughts that didn’t surround you. It was absolutely frustrating and nothing you were doing was sticking with him. You had pulled out nearly every stop you could think of— a skirt a little too short, a top a little too tight, climbing in his lap like a kitten. Nothing worked.

Despite your efforts, Clark’s mind remained elsewhere. His attention on everything except for his girlfriend. When things were good with Clark, it was amazing, but that feeling could only last for so long before something wedged itself in between you two, often causing rifts in communication and a lack of intimacy.

Sitting there, watching Clark jot down some notes, was absolutely agonizing. The way his fingers held the pen, how small he made it look in his hand. And when his pen traced a specific motion, the veins poked out just enough to garner a whimper from you.

And that’s when it hit you. There was one last thing you could try, one last trick that might work. On Clark’s desk was a cherry flavored lollipop, and it had probably been there for a lick too long, but if anything could grab his attention, it would be this. 

Sauntering over, your hips moving in a specific sway, you leaned against his desk and reached for the cherry lolly. “Do you mind?”

“Uh,” Clark muttered, not picking his gaze up from the paper, “yeah, that’s fine.”

With a deep breath, you tried to regulate your nervous system. The fact that he wouldn’t even look was beginning to drive you up the wall. Your stomach clenched with brows furrowed and lips presenting in a permanent frown as you peeled the wrapper from the lolly with a bit too much force. With a huff, you discarded the wrapper and then popped the lolly in your mouth, the cherry flavor coating your tongue.

You moved your lips around the lollipop, sucking and licking as if it were Clark himself. If you had heat vision like Clark, he might actually be at risk with the way your eyes were burning into the side of his head. And if he didn’t give you attention soon, you may be at risk for a permanent crease in between your brows.

It was time to take it up a notch. The less attention he offered, the more restless you became. As your tongue lulled over the pop, you let out a soft whimper. That’s all it took, because Clark was looking at you with concern laced into his features. His mouth was slightly ajar, his lips turned down in a frown, and it looked like he was about to ask if you were hurt because of that soft noise that sounded from you. Holding your gaze for a little over a second, Clark knew that there was nothing wrong, almost hypnotized by the gentle suck and flick of your tongue.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Clark asked you, the words coming out in a short staccato as he watched the clean stripes your tongue was making against the lollipop. He knew the answer, you were completely fine, but that was just who Clark was— constantly wanting to make sure you were taken care of.

“M’fine,” you shrugged, closing your eyes and tilting the lollipop a bit too deep causing you to lurch slightly.

Heat prickled at your cheeks, the gag on the lollipop not necessarily something that you were intending to do. When you looked at Clark, wishing he would bask you in some reassurance, a thin layer of sweat began accumulating on the top of your skin as his eyes raked every inch of your face.

“I can’t focus when you’re doing that,” Clark said, taking his lower lip in between his teeth as his thumb nervously clicked the top of the pen.

Click. Click. Click.

“Doing what?” Your voice was sweet, like your vocal chords had been dipped in honey. Feigning innocence like you hadn’t just made yourself gag on a cherry lollipop seemed silly, but if this is what would do the trick, then you were playing the game. 

With one eyebrow raised, you took the cherry flavored lollipop in between your lips and began flicking your tongue around it again. This time, much slower and much more calculated than before with your eyes fixated on Clark. As the sugary lollipop coated your tongue, you decided that you’d put on a show for him, working out a moan from the depths of your throat and rolling your eyes back.

Clark’s slightly annoyed expression shifted. His eyes now curious rather than frustrated, and you could tell that the thoughts that were once taking up too much space in his brain were placed on the back burner. His main focus was now you.

“You know,” Clark cleared his throat, pushing his chair out, “if you wanted some attention, you could have just asked.”

“I’ve been trying to ask” you whined, dropping the lollipop from your lips and setting the sticky candy directly on top of the paper Clark had been working on. You knew it was bratty, and honestly, you weren’t sure where this behavior had come from. It was just so much pent up frustration, agonizing over Clark’s fingers for days, watching him as he stretched just to catch a sliver of a glimpse of his happy trail. He was denying you of everything you wanted and that wasn’t very nice of him. So why should you be on your best behavior?

Clark shook his head, though his face didn’t contort in anger. No, instead, it contorted in understanding. Carefully, he moved the lollipop off of his paper, and gently placed it elsewhere.

“C’mere,” Clark said, stretching his legs out and opening his arms to offer you a spot on his lap. 

That one word was all it took in order for you to melt into his lap, curling up on him like a kitten. Clark was already getting there, his half hard-on pressing into your lower back as you shifted on his lap to wedge yourself into the crook of his body.

“If you wanted some attention,” Clark repeated, his voice neutral, careful to not sound patronizing, “you could have just asked.”

Oh.

Well, you hadn’t thought of that.

“I just thought you were too busy for me,” you told him honestly, pressing your palms flat against your thigh. The feeling of him against you was making that warm feeling shoot through your stomach, and if you weren’t wearing panties, you would definitely be dripping down your legs.

“I’m never too busy for you.” Clark made this very clear, gently grasping your chin and tilting your head backward so that you were looking up at him. With your back still pressed against his chest, you titled your head back compliantly. Slowly, he dipped his head down, connecting your lips together.

The kiss was soft, his lips parting yours with a gentle force as his tongue swiped against them. Clark was a good kisser; probably the best out there, actually. He always knew how to make you curl into him, how to make you grasp at his shirt and knead his skin like a kitten. As his tongue swiped your bottom lip, then danced with the tip of your own tongue, you could feel Clark’s smirk forming against you.

“Cherry flavored,” he muttered out, his lips still connected with yours. 

The way he kissed you was feverish, lips connecting and colliding, strings of spit as you pulled away from one another just to crash into each other once more. Clark’s tongue flicked against the roof of your mouth as his fingers found their way to your zipper.

“Clark,” you protested, clasping your hand atop of his, but his fingers had already worked your button open and your zipper down.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked, pulling back to get a better look at your face. His eyes scanned every inch, figuring if you were stopping him from getting what you wanted something must be wrong.

“It is,” you commended, your face slightly hot from the next words that were going to come out, “I just wanted to taste you.”

Clark wasn’t very good about shifts in microexpressions, and it wasn’t very often that he let you go down on him. He wasn’t a very self serving person, always fixated on wanting to make you feel good. And if you were going down on him, then what were you getting out of it? This was a common disagreement amongst you two. Gears turned in his brain, his brows flicking in slight disappointment as he rested his hand along the hem of your panties.

Clark paused, searching for the words, “let me take care of you first and then we’ll talk about it.”

You nodded gently, watching as his fingers made their way inside your panties. You were so wet, it was almost embarrassing, but Clark didn’t mention it. Even if he wanted to tease you for getting so wet just from a little kissing, he was more concerned about your feelings than anything else.

Carefully, with a tempo only Clark had mastered, he began rubbing his middle finger against your clit. You had tried this once before, trying to recreate the feeling Clark offered you while you were alone in the middle of the night, but it was never right. His fingers were big, one of them teasing the slit while the others rubbed the most sensitive part of you in a rhythmic circular motion.

It never took him long to get you to that place of pure pleasure. Every now and again, he would apply just enough pressure to make you gasp, arching your back away from him. While you may be at risk of squirming when it felt too good, Clark never minded because he could hold you in place with just a pinky.

“Feels too good?” Clark asked with sincerity as your back arched once more, a whimper that sounded slightly defeated pulling from the back of your throat.

“Clark!” You whined, arching once more as his fingers picked up the pace and moved directly across your clit. One finger slid into your hole for just a moment before he pulled it out and spread your arousal all over your core.

But that isn’t what sent you over the edge. What sent you over the edge was Clark’s soft lips attaching to your neck, just below your ear. Delicately, he pulled the skin between his lips, sucking tenderly. His teeth grazed the skin just enough to cause a guttural moan to rise from you as your breathing picked up and an orgasm washed through you.

Continuing to flick against your clit, Clark worked you through your first orgasm, letting you spasm and finish in your underwear. His fingers didn’t stop the rhythmic motion until you had completely come down, grasping at his wrist as overstimulation washed through you.

“Tired?” Clark asked, his fingers still resting against your sex, though being careful to not move them and cause any wincing.

You couldn’t even find your voice, only nodding in response to his question.

“I guess it’s time for a nap, princess,” Clark said, his words muffled against your skin.

[side-by-side-sideblog]

As a butch individual I will not like you, fuck you, talk to you, make friends with you, or entertain you if you hate men, neither will my partner and other butches I know. It is not progressive, man hating isn't queer culture, because men are queer culture. Men are why I am masc, they accepted my masculinity first, lesbians were butch and masculine phobic to me for 8 years till I figured my shit out. I know that isn't the norm, but it isn't rare either.

These people put me back in the closet over and over. They don't support gender or sex being a spectrum, if they do they're showing no signs of it. They think saying men dni will stop guys who harass people but they don't stop because they don't care about consent and a dni doesn't change that. There are plenty of girl bloggers who also don't respect consent and send people gore and threats over minor disagreements. We don't go after them hardly at all in comparison considering we have people who've been doing that since 2016 and earlier that people still reblog and uplift because they're women. Men doing that on here don't get that treatment, because it's rightfully wrong. Most other sites white non queer men do getaway with that more while women don't, the Tumblr user base reversing that isn't progressive, because cis white women here get more slack then anyone else because trans fems, trans mascs, intersex people, and non white people get the "evil" tag over small shit, let alone actual bad things.

We teach in current society that men are incapable of consent, as if it's in their nature. This isn't true, but it sure does create a lot of guys who lack boundaries. That doesn’t mean Man = Bad it means society saying Man = Wild Beast is bad. A man is just whoever identifies as one, and identifying as a man has nothing to do with lack of consent, or toxic masculinity. I sometimes wonder if I identify as butch in a man way, idk, and I don't care, I am who I am, and women are who I spend time with in a queer way. My closeness to masculinity isn't traitor behavior. Femininity isn't Divinity, I do not worship women. Masculinity isn't an Ignominity, I do not criminalize men. Masculinity is also not Divinity, and Femininity isn't an Ignominity. Both can be fallible at times when the conditions are right, but they are neutral markers.

To make man = good we do that by just changing ourselves and our ideas of masculinity being bad, then we teach it to everyone else, including kids, friends, partners, and parents. When people stop the "boys will be boys" then more men will be taught consent.

I have an actual irrational hatred for a character that makes me burst into anger and hour long rants (not joking) because I see him as the epitome of toxic masculinity. Seeing him in a profile picture can ruin my day, but I do not put him in a dni list because I am not going to blame fans of him for my distaste in how the media itself supports his bad actions as good. Just like if I get harassed by men who lack consent, I will not blame all men and put men dni.

Saying "I block ＿" is better anyway.

Plus, how can you know someone's a woman? Not everyone has pronouns listed, gender listed, or just a big neon sign saying "I'm a woman." you will have no idea if people are respecting your frankly outrageous ask of who can follow or reblog your posts.

Men on this site who respect women and reblog posts do exist, and there are a lot of them. Also trans eggs who are on this site are not going to figure themselves out through media like mlp, she-ra, and whatever you post by saying men dni. My trans sister cracked her egg six months ago, so for her blog she would have steered clear of men dni disclaimers and probably blocked them out of respect. Now how does she undo that, go through her entire block list? That would be crazy work for people who wouldn't have respected her pre transition (which they didn't, not even other trans girls or queer gurls in highschool did, only now would they support her. That's what man hating does to people.)

There is no simple solution to keeping people away, oh wait... It's called blocking.

tldr; Having a dni for an entire demographic of people just for the flaws of a few inside doesn't work. It never will. People who don't care about consent will breach it to hurt you.

if you have "cishet men dni" in your bio i, a trans man, will not touch you with a 10 foot pole. i should not be forced to out myself as a trans man just to interact with you. on top of that, cishet men are not inherently evil. stop trying to reinvent bioessentialism with your "girl good, boy bad!" mentality.

[earlysunshines]

strawberry-flavored kisses

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: it's valentines day so you and your amazing beautiful awesome lovely girlfriend bake cookies for your friends and loved ones (while also sharing sweet kisses in between)

warnings: noneeee pure fluff lolz ; established relationship ; they're so in love it PAINS me; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: happy valentines day!! (same y/n and dani from sunshine girl but also you don't have to read it first LOL it doesn't rly matter k bye enjoy!)

working on valentines day–especially as a barista—is like willingly walking through the gates of hell. the sheer number of couples waltzing in with their fingers intertwined, muttering sweet nothings while ordering the cherry blossom latte special is enough to send any single person in a spiral. 

unfortunately for your coworker soobin, today that barista is him.

he’s been stuck taking orders during the afternoon rush, forcing a polite smile each time a customer leans over to press kisses to their partners temple, hand, cheek, or even lips (which earns the most noticeable reaction from the guy). it happens more times than you can count on both hands, and each occurrence earns a subtle, annoyed scrunch of his nose.

you’re more than grateful that you work with your girlfriend, danielle, because if you didn’t—you’d probably be on the floor dying from heartache one hour in.

you and danielle share a knowing glance each time since you’re stuck together making all the drinks and serving the pastries in the display, both of you stifling laughter with each look. danielle is much sweeter than you are, so she tries to be subtle about her amusement. you, on the other hand, are not as merciful, watching soobin’s growing misery with shameless amusement.

soobin slides down the last receipt after the line of four couples is tended to, giving you a glare. “you guys are evil and i hate you both so much.” he groans before reaching over to grab a piece of strawberry tiramisu for another order. 

“it’s not my fault love is in the air~” you tease as you tamp down grinded beans, nudging danielle with your elbow.

danielle grins, lingering against you. “yeah, soobin. maybe you should try being happy for them! look at how cute they all are.”

soobin gives you both a deadpan look before calling out an order, and once he’s done, he says through gritted teeth, “easy for you lovebirds to say.”

just as you’re about to respond, another couple walks through the door, giggling as they gasp in awe at the pastries laid out. soobin sighs, putting on his customer service demeanor, and bracing himself while you and danielle bite down your laughter.

“i feel bad for him, y/n.” danielle mutters as she pours steamed milk into a cup, making a beautiful heart design. “he looks like he’s in actual, physical pain…” she adds, looking over to see the couple in front of the register sharing a quick peck before scanning the menu again.

“i think he’s going to pass out, or air out the place.” you murmur, watching as his fingers claw at the counter.

danielle looks around, then leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. you shiver at the proximity, feeling her lips brush against you just barely as she says, “maybe we should order the cherry blossom latte and hold hands while doing it. you know, just to mess with him.”

“i like the way you think.” you chuckle, smiling down at the shot you’ve just pulled. “maybe a kiss too?”

“you just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you?”

“i don’t need one. after we clock out i’m gonna kiss you soooo much. just wanted to let you know.” you shrug, moving back to the other side of the espresso machine to weigh out coffee grinds. “my valentine’s day special.”

danielle rolls her eyes but smiles at you, biting her lip at your bold remark.

—

all three of you clock out at the same time when the other three evening shift workers clock in. you all head to the back, and soobin dramatically leans against the wall with his heart shaped doughnut that he stole from the display. you and danielle giggle, earning a defeated look from your poor coworker. 

danielle kisses your cheek in front of soobin before you two head out, earning another groan from him. even if he’s in lots of emotional pain, the tips from the dreadful shift were wonderful. you and danielle know how lovely the tips are on holidays, so you two made a plan prior to bake cookies for your friends, which is why you’re immediately on the way to the grocery store to spend your combined cash tips.

(you make sure to let soobin know that you’ll save some of your treats for him, telling him he can come by your place anytime he wants. it’s only fair considering he was on register duty most of the shift.

plus, it’s valentine’s day! it’s only fair to spread the love you two have for your loved ones.)

the grocery store is also filled with a handful of last-minute valentine’s day shoppers, but you and danielle still manage to fill your basket without much waiting or trouble. she sings along to can’t take my eyes off of you—which is playing louder than usual on the speakers—with a packet of chocolates in her hand as the microphone. you laugh, taking a video of her when she skips down the aisle singing happily. 

by the time you get back to your house, the kitchen smells like butter and sugar, and the speakers are playing your carefully curated valentines playlist. can i call you rose? starts playing and you suddenly stop stirring the strawberries you’ve been boiling on low, gasping dramatically, “this is my song.”

danielle giggles at your antics and squeaks when you pull her away from the counter suddenly to serenade her lovingly.

“can i call you rose?” you sing, before twirling her around. “cause you’re sweeeeet like a flowerrrr in bloooom~”

“you’re so cheesy,” danielle giggles, twirling you around right after she says it. “you’re going to burn the jam!”

“soobin’s disease spread to you,” you joke.

“and what disease would that be?”

“being single.”

she rolls her eyes at your response before leaning in to kiss your nose. “i’m immune to that because of you, silly.”

not so long after you sway side to side playfully, you return to your baking duties. she mixes the wet ingredients while you finish up the jam, and you steal loving glances at her when she’s too focused to notice.

both of you are side by side again once you bring out the finished jam, placing it on the counter she’s now rolling the dough on. she hands you golfball-sized piece for you to shape, laughing at how carefully you work with it.

“you’re putting extra effort into these, huh?” danielle teases, watching as you carefully press your thumb into the dough.

“i have to. hyein will insult me like crazy if they’re ugly.”

she laughs, bumping her shoulder against yours. “true. minji and hanni will definitely do the same if they turn out deformed…”

you snicker, then continue to perfect your first cookie out of many. 

you and danielle work silently as the music in the background hums. you glance at danielle, who’s sleeves are rolled up as she pours jam into the small, heart-shaped dent in the cookie. there’s flour on he cheek, and when you reach over to brush it off, she scrunches her nose at the ticklish feeling.

“you have some on your sweater too.” she teases, pointing at the flour on your clothes.

“yeah, yeah.” 

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, shaping the cookies together and pressing small hearts into the center for jam. you’re focused on the start of your seventh cookie when you catch danielle sneaking a spoonful of jam in the corner of your eye.

“that’s for the cookies!” you scold, nudging her playfully. 

“i had to make sure it’s good!” she argues, licking jam off the corner of her lip. 

“oh, so you don’t trust me? wow…” you huff.

“i just needed to make sure!”

“there’s only a limited amount of—” before you can finish your sentence, danielle suddenly leans in, using her fingers to tilt your chin down before kissing you softly. you get a taste of the jam, it’s almost as sweet as the person kissing you—literally. you hum, feeling your shoulders relax as her fingers sneak to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

she pulls away and grins like she’s just gotten away with something. “there,” she murmurs against your lips. “good, right?”

your brain short-circuits for a moment before you blink at her, your face heating up. “you’re so—”

“amazing? yes, i know. now stop distracting me! we have to finish these cookies…”

“you’re the one who—” she cuts you off again, kissing you a little longer than last time before parting fully. you giggle at her antics, nudging her. “do you like the jam or did you just want to kiss me?” you question with feigned annoyance.

she hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin with her finger like a cartoon character. “all of the above.” she says while flashing a cheeky smile.

and just like that she gets back to work, leaving you flustered and giddy. you angle yourself weirdly to press a kiss to her cheek, earning a giggle before she tells you to finish up your cookie.

—

once you finish making a little over three dozen cookies, you and danielle are beat.

you both clean up a bit before washing your hands, set a timer, and then danielle flops onto the couch. you follow after, sitting next to her and leaning your head against hers. she shifts and puts her arm around you, pinching your cheek with two fingers.

“tired?” she asks.

“yes…” you respond. “but not too tired to kiss you…?” you add, turning your head to stare at her lips.

she leans closer, pecking your lips quickly before responding, “wow, cupid must’ve hit bullseye on your heart.”

“now look who’s so cheesy.” you giggle, nose brushing against hers. 

“yes because i love you, my valentine.”

“i love you too.” you say before meeting her lips in a tender, loving kiss.

your playful exchange of kisses lasts a few minutes, and you plan to continue until the timer rings. what you didn’t take into consideration was the fact that your younger cousin—hyein—would be back home so soon. 

and so, when you hear a dramatic groan along with the door closing, you two pull apart with flushed faces.

“oh my god, gross…” you hear from the entrance, turning around to see hyein with a half-disgusted and half-amused look on her face. “just because it’s valentines day doesn’t mean you get to be all lovey-dovey on my couch.”

“but we made cookies to share…” you respond defeatedly.

“were you guys being lovey-dovey while making them?” you open your mouth to reply, but pause, and hyein takes that opportunity to groan even louder. “gross…”

“oh shut up, i know you’re gonna devour like five of them in the same minute.”

“hey!” 

danielle giggles at the banter, and then all of you turn your heads toward the oven when the timer rings. 

“i promise the cookies are good. please take some as an apology?” danielle suggests, “there’s strawberry jam on them, and it’s really good.” she adds as she pinches your forearm, reminding you of the strawberry-flavored kisses from earlier. you blush.

hyein laughs, then happily sets her bag down before rushing over to the oven. you give danielle a look and she gives you the same one back before kissing you quick enough so hyein doesn’t notice.

“happy valentines day. i love you.” she says, tugging at your hand. “let’s go eat these cookies… we might need to make another batch if they’re too good.”

you laugh, following her to the kitchen island. “yeah, i was thinking that too. maybe being considerate wasn’t the best idea.” you joke, then kiss her forehead before muttering, “happy valentines day. i love you more.”

you hear hyein groan once more.

“i’ve seen enough couples at school today and i do not need to see another show of pda in the comfort of my own home.” hyein says loudly. “can you take the cookies out now?”

you scoff playfully before finding the oven mitts, smacking hyein on the head with them before you open up the oven to take out the first tray. the scent of the cookies fill the house with a sweet, irresistible aroma.

(but not as sweet or irresistible as your lovely valentine.

nothing can beat her at that.)

[mariasont]

One Clean Shot - A.H

summary: it’s a standard training session, until hotch steps behind you to adjust your stance and suddenly your biggest problem isn’t your aim pairings: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warning tags: suggestive content, hotch accidentally touches your tits, r shooting a gun, hotch shooting a gun, r kinda objectifying hotch (i showed my friends then we high fived), dbf!hotch, age gap wc 1.6k

"Oh, for the love of—"

You bite down on the words, trapping them before they can tumble out as something truly impolite. You fire. Left. Again. Another shot. Too high. Again. Too wide.

The gun jerks in your hand, unforgiving and indifferent. Gunpowder starts to scratch at your throat, your lungs, your patience even. You were starting to believe that it was a possibility that you were just inherently biologically incapable of aiming correctly. Bad aim genes, perhaps.

You try to picture your father holding a gun, arms stiff, stance awkward, probably muttering something about how in his day, disputes were settled with a well-worded legal argument.

Yeah, okay, that might explain a lot.

Except no, you passed all your quals. You aced them.

It was just an off day.

A specific, very tall off day named Hotch, who was currently standing behind you, radiating silent judgement at a level so intense it should be considered a supernatural ability. He was probably analyzing every micro-movement, taking note of every error, mentally drafting a performance review that would start with you're doing fine and end with a perfectly professional but somehow soul-crushing but you can do better.

You try to steady your hands and you fail and you think maybe you should just hand him the gun and let him execute your dignity at point-blank range.

It's fine, you tell yourself. It's not like your entire self-worth is balancing on the edge of his nonexistent expression. There's a chance he's not even thinking about you. He could be mentally going over his grocery list or calculating how much paperwork he had left to do today.

Or there's the more terrifying chance that he is watching you and wondering why you aren't better, why you aren't like him—like your father, wondering why you aren't meeting expectations.

And it's humiliating, really. How much you want to impress him. How much you want to make him proud and maybe even—

"You're anticipating the recoil."

You turn too fast, the world tilting for just a second, your vision narrowing to the sharp angles of Hotch's face.

"Here."

The word is barely out of his mouth before his hands are everywhere—no, not everywhere, everywhere, just your vest. But they might as well be, because your nerve endings aren't capable of knowing the difference.

He grips your vest at the shoulders, jerks the straps tight, a firm pull that rocks you just slightly forward, just slightly into him. Then his fingers skate down, adjusting the collar, smoothing over the bare skin where fabric meets flesh, his knuckles barely grazing the dip between your collarbones.

And then lower. Over your chest. Between. The back of his hand ghosts along the swell of your breasts, then right where your ribs curve inward, where his palm would fit if he just—just—slid an inch lower.

It's fast. Nothing. Over in a second. But your stomach is tight, your breath is tight, you are tight. And you swear if he lingers a moment longer, you might melt into a indecipherable puddle on the floor.

Your pulse is all over the place, skipping, tripping, betraying. Heat rushes to your cheeks, slow at first, then all at once, like a delayed newsflash that your body apparently has opinions about this.

Because this is stupid. Stupid. It's not like he meant to touch you there. It's not like he noticed. Did he notice?

No, absolutely not because that would imply things, and there are not things.

This is just your problem. Your rogue nervous system. Your tragic inability to be normal about anything. You are making this a thing when it is very much not a thing.

But you felt the way your stomach knots around something you don't even have the vocabulary to name, the way your nipples pebbled like they had some vested interest in ruining your life.

It's—what? Hormones? Static electricity? Some kind of spontaneous full-body malfunction? Because you didn't want to think about it being him, a side effect to prolonged exposure to Aaron Hotchner. (Should you warn the others?)

And still, he keeps going, cinching straps, flattening fabric, all broad (very broad) hands and no-nonsense efficiency. Like you're just a piece of gear to fix. You, on the other hand, are actively considering the logistics of just dropping dead on the spot. It seemed feasible.

"Shoulders back."

The instruction comes at the same time as he moves in behind you, a hand landing between your shoulder blades, and pushes, forces your spine straighter, like you're something to be molded, adjusted, put into place.

Then his hands moves to your waist, shifting your stance just a hair, just enough to make you brutally of the size of his hands. How they fit against you.

Then—oh. His foot nudges between yours, then hooks your ankle, kicking your stance wider.

His palm finds the space between your shoulder blades again, pressing down just enough to remind you where you are, who you are, what you're supposed to be doing instead of, well, whatever this is.

"Breathe."

Oh. Right. Breathing. That's a thing.

You suck in a sharp breath, only now realizing you'd been holding it captive in your chest.

"A lot of people hold their breath when they shoot," he explains, his other hand pressing into your ribs as if to make sure you were following his instructions, as if you'd do anything else. "It feels instinctual, like bracing will make you more controlled. But if you hold your breath, you lock up. Tension works against you. Breathing through the shot keeps everything loose. It makes the release smoother."

You weren't sure when everything became so hot, pressing in from all sides. But you felt like you might be sweating because no one should be allowed to say things like that, in a voice like his, with hands like his, and with zero self-awareness of what words like release can do to a person in your position.

You try to focus, to take another breath, but even that feels like a trap, because you are suddenly mortifying aware of the way your chest rises, of the heat dissipating between you, of how close he is.

His arms come to frame yours, surrounding in a way that makes everything else feel smaller. His hands go over yours, his chest is against your shoulder, his forearm skimming yours, and his breath is now tickling your ear.

"Your thumbs need to be higher," he says, adjusting them with his own, the rough pad of his finger dragging along the side of your hand. "You're gripping too far down, which throws off your alignment. Keep them forward, parallel with the slide. It'll help keep the recoil controlled, make your follow up shot faster."

His fingers tighten over yours, making sure you feel it. "And support your hand, it's doing too much. The pressure should be between both hands. If you squeeze harder with one than the other, you'll pull your shot without realizing it."

You nod, because you always nod when he speaks. Because you listen. Because learning from him is something you like, something that makes you feel good, something that makes you feel seen. And maybe that's why your hands are shaking.

He steps back and it's immediate, the rush of air, the space, the clarity that surely wasn't there before. Your chest expands, lungs finally taking what they were denied.

"Try again."

You exhale, reposition, adjust your stance the way he taught you. His instructions replay in your head, and you obey, thumbs high, pressure even, breathing.

You fire. And it's improved, smoother, more controlled, exactly like he said.

"That's it. Better."

You smoother the feeling those two words give you, shove in into the pit of your stomach where it can't cause problems. Where it can't mean anything. You're pathetic.

"Watch."

He steps in, you step back, and—oh.

You try to focus on the technical aspects, really, you do. On how he grips the gun, on how his fingers rest perfectly in place, on how his stance is exactly what he just told you to correct. But your brain is completely uncooperative.

Your brain apparently has priorities, and right now, those priorities are his arms, the way his muscles shift beneath tight sleeves, the flex of his shoulders as he raises said gun.

And then lower, corruptfully lower, to the curve of his waist, where the fabric of his shirt strains, the way his belt rests just above the curve of his—

Absolutely not.

You blink hard, inhaling sharp, mentally shoving that thought into a vault labeled inappropriate. Do not open. The worst part, however, is that you can't tell if you're more mortified by the fact that your brain went there, or by the fact that, now that is has, you're not sure how to get it to stop.

"Focus."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "I—I am."

He doesn't look at you. Not once. But the way he reloads, it's like he's giving you time to wallow in the moment. And there's something, something, in the slight pull of his mouth, in the tiniest shift of his expression that's almost, but not quite, a smirk.

"Not on the right things."

His fires. One clean shot. Straight to the heart.

The paper doesn't resist, it just takes it, the force ripping clean through the center, leaning nothing but a perfect, gaping wound. It was precise in a way that shouldn't be surprising but still is.

It's a clean shot through something inside of you, too.

And you have no idea how to patch it up.

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