#this man honestly takes up too much of my brain space

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Tiktok just said that Rhys Larsen is my book husband and when I tell you that I screamed out laud I really did. That's it. Girl is married.

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[eleganzadellarosa]

Forgive and Forget

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut (fluff if you pat your head and rub your stomach)

warnings: MDNI!!! (size kink (sorry I can’t help it, he’s just so big 😍), oral (f receiving), slight manhandling, breeding, lots of cum)

word count: 1.69K

A/N: it’s about that time yall, he always slithers into my brain at some point in time 🙄💕it took everything in me to not throw in some dacryphilia, the parasites in me really wanted to. Honestly I have nothing else to say except enjoy and thanks for reading :)

You’re far too in it to remember what the argument was about, but you knew you were right. It wasn’t often that you and Mingyu had disagreements of this caliber, most of the time they were “friendly”. Right now you’re angry, very angry actually, over something that you still don’t remember but you’re making sense and he’s clearly in the wrong. He raised his voice at you and vice versa, the argument was pretty heated but that was as far as it would ever go.

“You’re not even acknowledging that you’re wrong right now Gyu and you know you are!” Your finger was pointed but you were more so pointing at the space around him than at the actual person.

“Baby it doesn’t even matter, I know I’m wrong I just don’t like what you said!

He knew he upset you but the things you were blaming him for weren’t true and that’s kind of how the argument started; he just wanted to clear his name. You were so infuriating at times like these, standing your ground and not taking no for an answer.

“Fine whatever! I’m over this!” You threw your hands up and went to walk away but he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back toward him.

He first caught you by the waist then held your face in his hands. You looked so pretty all the time, even when you were angry. He hated fighting with you, it made his heart ache and he always subconsciously thought you hated him a bit every time it was over. He knew that was a stupid idea and way to feel because you obviously loved him but he couldn’t help but be nervous. You couldn’t hate him, it would tear him up from the inside.

“Baby I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to make you upset right?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

Your heart softened seeing the slight pout on his face. You didn’t like it either; raising your voice at each other as if you had no love in your hearts. “Mm” a small whimper of agreement leaving your throat because if you spoke, maybe your eyes would start to water.

“You forgive me? Hmm?” He kissed the top of your nose and touched his forehead to yours. When you nodded and he saw the early glimmers of tears in your eyes, he got down on his knees. “You sure? I won’t know unless you say it.” He ran the edge of his nails up the back of your thighs; you forgot you wore this little skirt.

Your cheeks were burning and no thoughts ran through your head as you watched this man who was obviously bigger than you, beg for your forgiveness on his knees as if you were the keeper of his soul. You were always weak to those puppy eyes he would give you so unintentionally but that only signified just how desperate he was to hear what he needed in order to feel better. He was kissing at your stomach now, one hand still on your thigh and the other under your shirt.

“Of course I forgive you Gyu.”

“Really baby? You don’t hate me?”

Hate him? You could never hate him; he never gave you reason to. “Why would hate you Gyu? I love you so much.” You gently caressed his face with your hand.

That put a smile on his face and he wrapped his big arms around your waist and rested his chin where his lips previously laid. “You gonna let me make it up to you?”

That sparkle in his eyes; going from desperate to happiness, now to a mixture of lust and excitement. “You don’t have to do that Gyu, it’s okay.”

“Pleeeease? I’ll make you feel so good baby, I promise.”

Your heart beat thumped in your entire body; your neck, your fingertips, your chest, you were suddenly aware how fast it was going. “Okay, but only if you want t-“

He was already pushing you against the nearest wall, still on his knees. He slid that tiny little skirt he loved so much down your legs along with your panties and draped a leg over his shoulder. He tapped on the other one to get you to let him do the same. He was sturdy, a big wide frame for you to comfortably rest your jelly like legs as he settled his tongue right between your juicy folds. He was so good at getting you wet, or maybe you just couldn’t help it.

He was right, you did feel good. Your hands tangled in his fluffy hair, back arched and head leaned back against the wall. You weren’t going anywhere but he had a tight grip over your thighs to keep you still while he got to work. Flat tongue exploring every inch of your dripping pussy. He made rough circles over your clit, stopping to suck on it every now and again. He was enjoying himself; grunting, moaning, whimpering at the taste of you flooding his tastebuds. Nothing was sweeter than you, nothing made his body feel like it was on fire like you did.

Toes curled and thighs shaking, you were close to what was to obviously come. “G-Gyu, gonna cum.”

There he was again, looking up at you with those same eyes that crumbled you into a bunch of tiny pieces. He grabbed higher on your thighs, bringing your pussy closer to him, sticking his tongue as deep as it could go. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your ass, your hands tugging on his hair slightly. His nose pressed against your clit and that along with everything else pushed you over the edge.

He loved being the one to get you like this. To be the only one tasting you in your most vulnerable form. He was twitching in the pants he wore; you were absolutely lethal. When you came down from your high, he gently let your legs down and stood up; chin and lips glistening. He smiled at you when you stood on your still wobbly legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a sloppy kiss. His hands rested on your ass until he lifted you so that your legs wrapped around his waist.

He carried you to the bed, still kissing you and placed you on your stomach. You were left in nothing but your top, your bottom half on full display. You looked over your shoulder and watched as he removed everything until he was left in nothing but his skin. He was behind you now, propping you up on your knees so that his fat head could rub against your entrance. He grabbed your hips and slid in; hissing as he reached the hilt. Breathing heavily, he slowly built up a momentum, rocking his hips faster and faster.

“Mmm Gyu, feels so good…”

“Hmm? Feels good baby? Want more?”

He didn’t have to see you nod, your hips bucked back to meet his thrusts; just a way to tell him you needed more. Your walls sucked him in, inviting him to have no boundaries and to fuck you to his heart’s desire.

“Love you so much, don’t wanna fight no more.” His thrusts were quick now, fat dick stretching you out so deliciously.

No words could accurately describe how amazing it felt to be under him. So big and so heavy in all the right amounts. To have your face in the mattress while he grabbed at you as if you would slip away. He leaned forward, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts. His hands were soft, big but rough and mean all at the same time.

“Love you Gyu…love youuuu” you were moaning and whimpering; it all felt too good and your body felt tingly.

Your voice so pretty too, letting him hear how good he made you feel. He was no match for you, he couldn’t go on much longer before he wanted to fill you up just so he could hear you some more. He was addicted.

“Love you baby, love this warm pussy too, love everything. Wanna give you more. Wanna give you it all.” He wrapped his arms around you, trapping yours at your chest while he rut into you like a dog in heat.

Absolutely perfect, all of it. You loved how even though he could easily crush you, he made sure to use his size to protect your smaller body. He was getting so deep at the angle, a huge creamy mess forming at the base of his dick. His knees were between yours to keep you nice and spread for him.

“P-please Gyu…want it” your voice slightly higher pitched than it was earlier or better described as: the way your voice would change when you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to cum.

He sped up, thrusts so deep and fast, tip bullying your cervix. He squeezed you a bit tighter, prepping you and him for the massive load he was going to release. He was panting in your ear, breath warm and tickly. This only caused your pussy to flutter, walls clenching down on him. It was turning his pants into moans; gosh he was so close but so were you. You kissed at his bicep closest to you and it drove him crazy; you drove him crazy.

“Fuck, baby can’t hold it…gonna fill you up.”

And fill you up he did. A few more thrusts and his warm cum flooded your walls, slipping out and dripping down your thighs. You were both still moaning as you came down from your highs. He freed you from his trap and laid down next to you. Neither of you had the energy to move, panting heavily as the effects wore off. He built up the strength to pull you close to him because he couldn’t deal with you being so far.

“I’m sorry Gyu, I didn’t mean to yell at you and accuse you of all those things.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead, “It’s okay baby I know, we don’t have to talk about that. Just lay here with me okay?”

Soon the silence engulfed you both and slipped you into a peaceful slumber.

Would y’all forgive him? 👀

[bi-bard]

The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]

Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"

Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,071 words

Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up

Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.

Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.

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I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.

I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.

I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.

"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."

"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."

"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."

I nodded.

I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.

"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"

He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.

"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."

I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."

"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book

"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."

"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."

"Afraid not."

"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."

Which I did.

A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.

"Mr. Fell," I called.

He rounded the corner. "You're back."

"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."

"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."

"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."

"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."

"I... I can't ask you to do that."

"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.

I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"

"Do you have time now?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."

"Okay," I nodded.

As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.

When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.

"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."

"Thank you."

I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.

"Angel!"

I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.

"Who are you?"

"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"

"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.

"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.

"I just told you my name," I replied.

"How am I meant to trust you?"

"Why would I lie about my name?"

"Don't know, you tell me-"

"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."

"Why?"

"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."

"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.

"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."

"I am busy-"

"Do I look like I care?"

"I can come back later," I spoke up.

"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."

"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.

"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."

Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.

If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.

But it did.

I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.

I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.

Or Crowley, as I soon learned.

I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.

They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.

When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.

"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."

"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.

"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."

"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.

The three of us were only closer after that.

It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.

Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.

Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.

I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.

He waited for a moment before following me.

"Come here," he said.

"What," I asked.

"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.

I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.

"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."

"Don't call me that."

I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."

"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."

I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.

I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.

"Thank you," I said after a while.

"Yeah, whatever."

That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.

I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.

I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.

When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.

Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.

"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"

He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.

"What's going on," he asked.

I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.

"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."

Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.

"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."

I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.

"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.

Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.

"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.

"What?"

"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"

"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."

Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Be nice."

"I am not nice."

"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."

Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.

There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.

"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.

Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."

I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.

"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."

"I don't drink-"

"And I clearly meant chocolate."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."

"You're welcome."

He walked out of the little nook in the corner.

As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.

As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.

I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.

I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.

But I would never stop trying to do so.

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[catcze]

Hiii catte, just wanted to appreciate your work towards the whoreslay nation I EAT UP everything you put out.

Hmmmm as for wrio thoughts, maybe him making pink coloured tea after finding out it’s your favourite colour 😏 better yet, a pink themed tea party.

(yes I am encouraging you to write something self-indulgent because the yoinking accessories off your person fic has been rotting in my brain despite my irl aesthetic being like wrio. I just think it’s cute :])

Take care and have a lovely day/evening/night✨

anon i literally love youuu thank you for enabling me to be self indulgent tee hee ♡ take care too baby !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

It's something so offhanded— you hadn't expected him to give it much importance.

"Something wrong with the tea?" Wriothesley asks one afternoon, brows furrowing when he notices that you had yet to take a sip of your teacup. Instead, you had been staring at your drink for quite some time, lost in thought.

His question startles you out of whatever thoughts you were having, though. "What? Oh— no no, nothing like that. It's just... the color's really pretty," you tell him bashfully, a small smile on your face.

Wriothesley looks down at his own cup in thought. To him it's just... pink? It tasted good, don't get him wrong. Sweeter than some of the other teas he had served before, thanks to the dries strawberries and raspberries that had been infused into the tea. But he didn't realize that it was something you found particularly entrancing.

That one instance with the tea makes him notice something afterwards: you always had something pink on your person. Whether that be a charm, an accessory, a piece of clothing, or if your whole outfit was just the color pink. Even the color of some of the foods you eat— cakes with pink berry cream, milk colored pink with strawberries, you name it. If there's food with anything pink on it, chances are you're going to try it. Wriothesley honestly wonders how he doesn't realize it sooner.

When you walk up the stairs to Wriothesley's office, you're expecting it to be just any other afternoon tea session with him. Maybe, if he wants to spice things, he got his hands on a foreign blend that he wants you to taste. Maybe he brought some cakes and crepes from a new bakery in the city.

What you are not expecting, however, is for his dark and relatively industrial-looking office to be covered head to toe in pink.

All you can do is gape, mouth open as you try to take in the barrage of pastel pinks, creams, and whites that decorate the whole space. Even Wriothesley himself, who meets you at the landing of the staircase, has donned a little bit of pink against his otherwise black outfit— one of your pink neck ties replaces his usual red, and a heart shaped earring dangles from his ear, both obviously pilfered from your collection.

"What—" you can't help but giggle, giddy and overcome with wonder. "What is this?"

"Nothing special," your boyfriend says humbly, even though what he did means the world to you. "Just wanted to do something nice for you, is all. You really seem to like the color pink, so I thought to myself... giving you a pink tea party is definitely something I can do."

You can feel your heart swell, choking up because damn you love this man so much, and he loves you even more. You can't bring yourself to say anything, can't even will away the tears gathering in your eyes because you're so touched by this sweet, sweet man and all the love he's handed to you on a silver platter. You sniff, and you can already feel the waterworks coming.

Wriothesley panics when he sees the way your lip wobbles and the way your eyes shine with tears. He grimaces, hands immediately going to your arms to hold you and pull you close. And if anything, that just makes you cry even more.

"What's wrong, baby?" he murmurs into your hair, hand petting your back in an attempt to soothe you. You just hiccup, burying into his warm chest even further, neither of you caring about how you're getting tears on his shirt.

You cry for a bit more and Wriothesley lets you, cooing into your ear. He hugs you close, kisses your forehead, and runs his hands through the ends of your hair, carefully undoing any tangles. And when the tears die down, you pull away from his chest with a small sniff, just enough to be able to look at his face.

"All done?" He asks, and you nod, rubbing the tears from your eyes. No doubt you look like a mess— bitten lips, tear stains, swollen eyes and messy hair, but Wriothesley still looks at you like you're the only thing in this world worth looking at.

"Sorry," you begin, voice hoarse, "I- I just really love this—" you cast a glance around the room, eyes tearing up again, but you try your best not to cry this time. "And I just really love you. So, so, so much. You make me so happy," you tell him, leaning close and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Wriothesley's heart races. His face flushes and his hands shake and gods he can feel an itch in his eyes that he does his best to tamp down, because no doubt if he started crying, so would you, and the tea he worked so hard to prepare would go cold, and he can't have that. So he inhales deeply, wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb, and leads you by the hand to the pink table where your pink tea party awaits.

"I love you too, sweetheart," He murmurs, sitting across from you, still holding your hand over the table. "Forever and always."

[captain-pheonix]

Hi this is a silly question but I really like your stuff and I think you're cool and really swag writer so I was wondering if you could do one with the TF2 mercs (and maybe miss Pauling, whatever you want) with a reader who boxes? Can be romantic or platonic, and the gender can be whatever you find easier to write. Ok, thank you ❤️😭

Mercs + Pauling (romantic and/or platonic) x gn!reader who likes boxes 📦 (HCs)

A/n: AHHHH TY ANON ILY 🫶 This isn’t weird at all, seriously, I am a certified creature and you have 100% come to the right person. I collect Apple product boxes and if I’m being honest if I lived by myself I’d just collect boxes regularly. Im making this gn!reader that can be read as platonic or romantic! Hope you enjoy!!

BIG EDIT: HOLY SHIT ANON IM SO SORRY I CANT READ YOU MEANT A READER THAT BOXES NOT A READER THAT LIKES BOXES IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭😭 IM GONNA MAKE ANOTHER POST FOR A READER THAT BOXES IM SO SORRY

Warnings: none (boxes jumpscare, graphic depictions of cardboard)

Pauling

• Girlie is like “huh” but doesn’t really care because all the other mercs are equally if not more insane (and we all know the admin is, too)

• When she finds out, she finds it kinda funny, gives her a tiny break from being a workaholic 25/8

• “What do you find so fascinating about them?” Ms. Pauling says, genuinely curious. You explain that they’re just nice, they itch your brain the right way, and just like how a child sees one of those huge appliance boxes. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense, actually. Interesting. Never would have thought about that.”

• ✨the box hoard TM✨ is probably just in a corner or a closet somewhere

• She’ll probably ask if she can have any because they’d be really nice for sorting paper work

• Up to you, but maybe you give her a few you don’t like as much

Sniper

• bro is confuzzled

• thinks you’re crazy

• exits the room

• (no)

• like Pauling, he’s a bit confused, but after explaining how it’s like that feeling you get as a kid seeing a package arrive in a huge box, he understands it a bit more

• probably a little weirded out by your ✨box hoard✨ anyway

• calls you a cat 😞

• I feel like he’d be the kind who might get annoyed at the box board being around, thinking it takes up space and it needs to be tidied

• might get something to help you organize the boxes

Scout

• finds it absolutely positively hilarious cannot stop laughing

• “What? You like boxes?”

• Shoves you in boxes because it’s funny 😔

• after explaining the whole “it just sorta itches my brain like when a kid sees an empty box something was in” thing, he’s like “oh my gosh, that totally makes sense, actually!”

• 10/10 would just chill in one your boxes even if it’s a little small

• weird but wholesome headcannons that you two would fall asleep/cuddle in your boxes together

• honestly though after a while I feel like he’d join your box hobby

• he might ask for the boxes after someone gets a delivery or orders something just for you

• drawing on the boxes!!!

Medic

• Blud is like “ok cool”

• prob gives you boxes leftover from shipments of medical supplies like plastic bits (I wouldn’t take the ones from his shipments of animal organs 😬)

• those boxes might smell like the med lab 😔

• but I mean if you enjoy his scent or something then it’s probably a nice reminder

• when you talk about how a kid would react when a giant box shows up in the mail and how it never went away he gets it

Pyro

• you know for a fact bro is playing with them

• completely understands right off the bat you do not have to explain anything

Spy

• boxtrot taunt

Demo

• too drunk to give a shite

• you may or may not find some bottles in the boxes

Engie

• May have some boxes kicking around to give you

• kinda doesn’t get it but when you explain he’s just like “ok then guess ur just quirky like that”

Soldier

• I’m gonna follow Electrro64rus and say this man is crazy about boxes

• very excited when he finds out you like collecting boxes

• don’t have to explain why you collect boxes, dude is just excited to also participate

Heavy

• utter confusion

• even when you explain it still utter confusion

[postmodernbeliever]

okay so first of all love your work so far, thanks for sharing!! second i was thinking about how easily fox would get a hard on in public, like you give him a single word of praise or you say his name in a certain way and suddenly his work pants are feeling incredibly tight and his hands are running all over his face and he has to stay behind his desk or maybe stick a pillow down against his groin just for a little bit of relief and you barely even did anything

anyways i want to scream i need him so bad

payback- fox mulder x female reader (smut!!!!)

it takes very little to get fox going. one touch, one word, and he’s putty in your hands. so one day, when he's a little too much for you, you decide to hit the man with a little payback- and god, it's worth it!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

to whoever sent this ask in, babeeeee I DROOLED!!! i hope i completed the fantasy for you, even if just a little ;) put my own twist on it. hope you enjoy. <3

my ao3 | word count: 4,010

content tags: smut, teasing, public hand jobs, light angst, fox is needy as hell, you’re kinda hot… damn, cross posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

it was embarrassing, honestly. he just couldn’t keep it together. fox isn’t typically so easy– well, in a way he is, because he knows just as well as you do that pretty much anything will set him off. but he’s always been good about hiding it in public… at least, he was before he met you. 

for a guy as horny as he is, you’d think he would thrive under pressure. you’d seen plenty of guys respond to the feeling, seeking a reward, and it would make sense for fox to fit this approach; he was cocky, often to his own detriment, and he pushed until he got what he wanted, whether that be top-secret files or a diet coke from the vending machine. he was a go-getter in every sense of the word. but the second his brain couldn’t keep up with his crotch, he became a lost cause. you liked that about him. it was so easy to get him flustered, and when he was, it was adorable; he tripped up every other word, he got fidgety, he struggled to comprehend even the simplest of conversation, and all that dysfunction was the result of a touch or a sound. 

you learned of this little talent of his the first time you visited him at work. the two of you hadn’t been dating long, but anybody in the same room as you could recognize the disgusting eyes the two of you gave each other. as much as he made your heart flutter, he also made your hips ache, and you were just dying for him– and he felt the same. he couldn’t get enough of you. one afternoon the agent gave you a ring on your cell phone and asked if you wanted to take your lunch break with him, and you laughed and informed the man you’d called in sick for no other reason than you couldn't bear to go into work that day. so he insisted you come and hang out with him in his office, at least for a little while, and you had no problem saying yes. when you got there, you finally got to snap the missing piece of his puzzle into place; the walls screamed of his nature, of his passion, the insanity that turned everyone but you off of him. all the files and disorganization piled high around him like a palace throne, and he sat in his squeaking desk chair, king of it all. you could’ve drowned in that room almost as badly as you wished to drown in him. you’d brought food from a shop down the street, and he ate it gratefully, and you talked his ear off for hours about cases and what it’s like to shoot a gun and have you ever seen any vampires?, and after a while of letting you see him in a space intimate as that, he was getting himself all worked up. you sat so pretty on his desk as he had his back to you, rifling through case files and showing you confidential things he could get fired for. you also looked so pretty when you gazed into his microscope in the back of the office, playing around with all his toys. but when you walked over to where he sat behind his desk and touched all his photographs with curious eyes, and said, “looks like you’re good at your job, fox,” you learned for the first time how easy he was to please. you ogled how he crossed one leg over the other and let out a frustrated groan, and how every move you made wasn’t so much admired as coveted; you saw pleading eyes, a dry mouth, restless hands running up and down his legs and over his blushing skin. you saw how once he couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you by his favorite poster and kissed you right beneath the saucer, and you’d never forget it.

you didn’t wield this power too often, because you didn’t want to frustrate him. it was so easy to get him riled up and leave him hanging, but you didn’t always have the willpower not to help him out after the fact. and who could blame you, when you have a six-foot-tall government agent for a boyfriend, noisy and whiny and brutally hot all at once? torturing him was fun, yet it had to be done sparingly. but it was a good kick in the back of the knee when he was getting too aggravating, and you could use that leverage right about now.

all day, fox had been getting on your nerves. it takes a lot for him to annoy you because most of the time if he's getting arrogant, you find it attractive. but today was a different situation. the agent came home early, pissed off beyond reconciliation, yet another official reprimand to stain his personal file with the bureau. he burst through the door with a mouthful to spew, and you’d hung around him all day as he paced the floor and brooded over his desktop full of files. you did just about everything you could to cheer the guy up; you made him fresh coffee, you threw his favorite sweater in the dryer so he could pull on something warm, you’d even called in a chinese food order so he could get something in his stomach. but none of it was working. when you tried to play with his hair, he brushed you off, and every time you kissed his shoulder, he’d meet you with near indifference. if you didn’t know how much he loved you, you might’ve slapped him, but this mood wasn’t one he could just get over. he was snappy and tired and upset, and there was only so much you could take, so when hours had passed and he was still being a grump, you decided to get some fresh air– but not without an ulterior motive, of course. 

with freshly set curls and the darkest lipstick you had on hand, you primped yourself to go out for a drink with a few girls from work. they invite you every friday night and you always decline, because there is typically a certain man waiting up for you– but that man seemed not to care, so you chose to take them up on the offer this time around. you shuffled through your blended closet, pulling one of fox’s suit jackets off the rack and draping it over your bare shoulders. you wore a little black dress with a sweetheart neck that stopped just above your knees, the very dress you wore on your and fox’s first date. shoving your feet into a pair of kitten heels, you clicked your way out of the bedroom and into the apartment, standing squarely before the television so fox was forced to take a look. 

“what do you think?”

you watched his big eyes trail up your pantyhose-clad legs, admiring the lacy pattern, and a smile quirked on his lips. “pretty. hey, you’re wearing the dress.”

“i’m going out,” you sighed, blowing past his acknowledgement.

“out? where?”

“some girls from work invited me to grab a drink at the bar,”

“but it’s friday night!”

you rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to tuck away the mischievous grin you felt creeping in. “well, i’ve been stuck inside all day with you, debbie downer. i wanna go have a little fun.”

the man shifted in his seat, expression turning sour. “so you’re not gonna hang out with me tonight?”

“baby, i’ve been trying to hang out with you all day. you just keep brushing me off.”

you crossed the living room to the foyer, where your purse sat on his dining room table. he got up and followed you in, and when you turned around he was right behind you. he had a softer look about him, something like regret, and you had to remind yourself to stand tall in the face of your biggest weakness.

“i’m sorry. i’ve been an asshole.”

“yeah, you have.”

“you know i love you,” he frowned, “more than anything in the world.”

even in heels, you still had to push onto your toes to reach him. with a soft kiss to his cheek, you replied, “i know you do, don’t worry.”

“but you’re still going out anyway,” he huffed.

“i am. but…” you pushed on his chest so he’d take a step back, “if you want to come with me–”

all of a sudden he had floppy ears and a tail, his sparkling eyes full of hope that you’d already forgiven him. “i can come?”

“sure, you can come… it’ll be work friends, though, you have to be social.”

“psh, me? antisocial? love, you’re crazy.”

you giggled as he hurried off to the bedroom, rushing to change out of the work clothes he’d sulked in all day. you leaned against the wall in the foyer, peeking through the door as he changed. you admired the curve of his back while he draped it with a white t-shirt and layered a henley over top, tucking the front into his jeans. you saw him reach for the brown leather jacket in the closet and silently thanked god. once he wriggled into that beat-up pair of timberlands you adored, you straightened out against the wall, working to keep your nonchalant composure. 

he did a little spin and asked in a girly voice, “what do you think?”

and in the deepest tone you could muster, you answered, “pretty.”

he scoffed, taking your hand and leading you out the door, promising, “not as pretty as you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

this is where the fun begins. you got him out of the house and in public, where he can’t escape you, and you were going to have your way.

you saw it in every move he made after you placed your hand on his thigh. you sat with three coworkers at the bar, chatting and laughing while they slammed glasses of wine and you nursed a lukewarm beer. fox wasn’t a drinker, so he had a club soda and cranberry, and after a while, you started sharing his drink and leaving yours to collect sweat. you told them all about fox’s job and they questioned him endlessly about solving unexplained cases, and they all seemed to fawn over him which you expected; girls always drool over him when you’re around. he found it funny, and despite the inkling of jealousy, so did you. he seemed to be enjoying himself as he talked about his most recent case, and you smiled, because you’d been waiting all day to do this. you waited for him to finish his sentence, and you let your hand fall gently on his thigh, laughing along with the others. 

“crazy job, don’t you guys think so?” you teased, and they all nodded, yelling over each other in the chaos of the bar. 

fox shot you a look, and you bit your lip like you had nothing on your mind at all. he leaned in close to your ear and asked, “what are you doing?”

you bumped your nose into his cheek playfully. “nothing!” 

“b-but–”

“but what?” you interrupted, pushing your hand down his leg to reach his knee, which you scratched at softly with your fingernails. he felt the sensation through his jeans and shuddered. 

the agent took a sip of his drink and placed his hand over yours on his knee, stopping your teasing. he glanced at the girls who'd invited you, and all three of them were in some deafening debate, almost like you two never showed up. you crossed one leg over the other on the barstool and turned towards the man, deciding that if they were going to be in their own world, you might as well have fun in yours. 

“they’re pretty hammered,” he diverted.

“good,” you smirked, “maybe they’ll be drunk enough to leave us alone.”

“i thought you wanted to come spend time with them,”

“i did, but you know me. i like you better.”

you admired the blush on his cheeks, and you knew it was burning hot because the only light inside the place radiated from neon signs. his eyes darted all over, and he kept chugging his soda, and you felt pride flooding your chest. 

“listen, i’m sorry about today,” fox apologized, tucking a lock behind your ear. “i hope you’re not mad.”

“not anymore,” you winked, and you leaned over to press a kiss to his jaw. you barely let your lips touch his skin– you wanted him to wish you’d come closer. 

slowly, calculated-like, you took his glass and stole the last sip, making the effort to dribble a little down your chin. you wiped up the spill with your thumb and licked it off, and fox’s lips parted. you wished it wasn’t so loud, because you could imagine the soft pant that fell from those lips. 

“what is it, baby?”

the man gave you a look, and then he shifted in his seat. your eyes drifted to his lap, where a little bump was rising, and they nearly bugged out of your head. even if it was what you set out for, you'd never get used to how little it took to get him going. you draped your hand over his bicep and squeezed, placing down his empty glass with glittering eyes.

“y-you… what- what are you trying to do?” fox stammered.

with an innocent bat of a lash, you answered, “nothing, foxie!” and when the flames began to paint his face, you giggled, “something wrong?”

“well- you- i- i mean,” fox groaned, rubbing his hands back and forth over his rosy face to try and shake the feeling swirling inside him. “you’re acting all…”

“all what?”

you stared intently as he passed his hands through all that thick, tawny hair on his head, wishing they were yours. something about him was unbelievable when he got this way. he licked his lips and swallowed nothing but air.

“fox, what’s gotten into you?” you chuckled as the man began running his palms back and forth across the wooden bartop. 

as he dug at the counter with his nails, he grumbled, “you– you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“m’not doing anything,” you lied as you let your hand fall on his thigh again, this time dangerously close to the bulge with your name written on it. 

you watched him hiss, taking your hand and putting it back in your lap. he raised his own in an attempt to flag down the waiter, but there was no chance he’d get noticed; the bar was packed to the gills with drunken bodies, all swarming around you, all moments away from being privy to his situation if you pulled anything else. fox looked like he was lost– in the bar, in his head, in the pressure pushing against his pants– and you were soaking it in like sunshine.

“you look so good tonight, have i told you that?” you gushed, “well, i did as a joke before, but i mean it. you’re so handsome.”

“come on, love,” fox rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe you were doing this here, now, in front of the world.

“what? i’m being serious! i like that shirt on you, it makes you look so strong,” you brushed your fingertips along the neckline, letting your nails drag across the base of his throat. you watched a torrential shudder tumble down his back, a curated avalanche in the making. 

“i- i mean-”

“–and you’ve been so sweet since you got over your mood, which makes me so happy. you know i love when you’re good to me,” you sighed, “and you are. you’re so good to me, foxie.”

suddenly, a strong palm wrapped itself around your wrist and tugged you off the barstool. fox didn’t even bother telling the girls where you were going since you hadn’t heard from them in a while anyway; he only pulled you through the thumping building, weeding through clusters of drunks towards the glowing bathroom sign in the back. butterflies were stuffing you full as he pushed open the women’s bathroom door, which was miraculously a dingy little single with a lock. letting go of his grip on you, he locked the door, muffling the blaring noise coming from outside. 

“hey, wait a minute–”

fox’s face dropped. you yelped as he rushed his hands across you, touching everywhere he could, snaking them beneath your stolen jacket and under your dress. you reveled in the feeling, but once his lips tried to press against your neck, you clicked your tongue in disapproval. 

“not here, fox,”

“nobody’s gonna see us,” the man urged, “i– you– come on, please?”

“if you want anything, you have to take me home.”

“you just fuckin’ teased me all night,” he growled, “please, baby.”

you giggled as he backed your hips up to the one and only sink, trapping you beneath his palms. his hard-on twitched against your stomach, and as you looked up into his tall, swimming eyes, you could see something surrendering inside them. you pressed your hands against his stomach, and he pressed himself against you, sighing softly at the ounce of relief. 

“you’re so bad, wanting me to get you off in a bar bathroom,” you teased.

“yeah, i’m the bad one. don’t act stupid.”

“don’t be mean, or you get nothing.” you sucked on your teeth, giving him maliciously sweet eyes. 

“okay, okay, i’m sorry. just… please.”

fox leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder, letting out a whimper so soft it was nearly undetectable. you had to stop your eyes from rolling back at how needy he was; he’s never been this bad, of all the times you’d brutally strung him out in public. maybe it was because he was experiencing your twisted form of payback, or maybe it was all the stress from work in the morning, but you pushed him to a new limit without ever really touching him. your entire body began to burn as you reached your palm down between his hips and rested your hand where he begged for you, and felt a pair of lips attach themselves to your neck, nipping softly at the skin in gratitude. you massaged him like he was fragile, like anything rougher would break him, and in a way, it was true– his knees were weak already, and as he rolled his hips against your palm, his hands trembled at his hold on the hem of your dress. 

“need me that bad, hm?”

all you got back was a strangled, “mm.”

“m’not gonna get on my knees, the floor is too dirty,” you chuckled, knowing he wanted more than what he was getting. 

fox didn’t speak. his brain was too wired to indulge you, but his body ached to be touched, so he found a nonverbal way to ask for it; he lifted you and shoved you onto the sink, and you scrambled to grab at the ceramic countertop. 

“fox–”

his big hands shoved beneath your dress and dug into the chub of your hips, scratching at your legs like a dog. he craned his neck down to kiss you, and as you got distracted by the sugary cranberry crystals at the corners of his lips, he moved in a hurry to unbutton his jeans. you didn’t know exactly what he was doing until your hand made contact with smooth skin, and you looked down to see his cock just barely bouncing in your buzzing palm, swollen and screaming for contact. 

your lips turned downward in a sympathetic smile as you cooed, “oh, baby.”

you shuffled up the counter a little bit so you had a little more room to arch forward. bringing your palm up to let a little spit dribble out of your mouth, nice and slow, just how he likes, you watched his jaw drop and you spread the stuff around your hand with your tongue. when he was sufficiently driven insane, you wrapped your hand all the way around him and laughed. 

“i can feel that second heartbeat you’ve got,” was all you said before you began pumping. 

fox’s hands flew to your face as you stroked him, his thumb gravitating to your tongue; his eyes were glazed over like never before, and you wished you could take a picture. you watched air fill his tummy over and over, heaving in desperation, and he bucked into your hand as if he’d never been touched before in his life. you moved a little faster, feeling the soft disruption of his veins underneath your fingers, swiping your thumb over his tip and making him shake. and fox was all noise, louder and prettier sounding than any club song baring behind the locked door. strings of your name interlaced with curses and promises and praises of how good you were, and how he loved you, and that he wished he was home so you could do more than this, and you sat there swearing that he would get what he wanted the second you two left. by the time you shut him up with your mouth, he was nearly there; and by the time you pulled him by the hips right against your soft stomach, both hands on him, his cock close enough he could feel your dress bunching up on his head, he was there. he was far fucking past there, cumming all over your pretty black dress, leaving milky stains you’d have to cover with his jacket, stains he would be reminded of later when he ripped that thing off you at home. you were in his ear instantly as he collapsed into your shoulder, holding him up, voice soft so you didn’t make his head buzz any more than it was already. 

“oh, good job, baby, good boy,” you smiled, “how’s that, hm? better?”

“bet… better,” he panted, back to the obsessive kissing all over your neck. 

“there’s so much more where that came from, foxie, i promise.”

“then can we get the fuck outta here?” he whined, pulling away to show you his pretty pink face. 

with one last warm kiss, one where you caught his lip between your teeth just for fun, you nodded. “get me a towel first."

fox passed you a paper towel which you used to wipe your dress with, and he chuckled at how you gently folded it up and dropped it in the trash can, like it was a treasure to you. then, as you hopped down from the counter and he zipped his jeans back up, you took him by the hand and dragged him out of the restroom, back over to the bar where your three coworkers were wasted beyond saving. you leaned into the conversation and said, “gotta bounce! i’ll see you guys next week!” and didn’t stick around to hear the drunken replies. instead, you guided the pretty boy behind you out to the parking lot, where he rushed to get behind the wheel and drive you home. you thanked god he didn’t have a drink in his system because he was in a real hurry. 

as you sat in his passenger seat, watching his jittering hand play with the gear shift, you were almost satisfied. your idea of revenge might be a little twisted, but it worked. you’d accomplished what you set out for, now the owner of an apology and a man aching for you. but after that stunt at the bar, you had a newfound greed, one you wouldn’t shake until he got you home; and maybe you were abusing your power, but how could you let up now? as you placed your hand over his, the engine revved beneath your feet, and you giggled. maybe it was torture, but he liked it– so you played with his fingers, and he groaned, and when you finally reached his apartment building, the two of you couldn’t get upstairs fast enough.

[lizzy-bonnet]

I love Jane Austen's work and I love podcasts, so naturally I follow several JA podcasts (please drop recs in the tags). I'm enjoying Live from Pemberley from Hot and Bothered, but a comment from literally the first episode of the series has been circulating in my brain since I listened to it several months ago: one of the hosts expressed surprise (and disappointment?) in the fact that when we first meet Lizzy, she is "employed in trimming a hat". This comment literally comes right after a conversation about how Austen tells us so much in the very short space of Chapter 1; without wasting any words, we know exactly who Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are (lightly toxic relationship), understand their family situation (need to marry well), meet the main driver of the first act (rich man in the neighbourhood), and understand a social dilemma (girls can't meet him if Mr. Bennet does not make the first overture). So what is Austen telling us when we meet Lizzy in the employment of trimming a hat?

We so often read a sort of modern girlboss feminism into Lizzy because she is smart and stands up for herself, but I think that's something that really gets embroidered on to the text. Lizzy trimming a bonnet is telling us several things about her:

She is frugal - new hats and bonnets are really expensive (my casual hobby is shopping for reproduction bonnets and this remains true), because the straw is braided by hand, the bonnet shape is assembled and blocked by hand, feathers have to be gathered from real (living or dead) birds, ribbons and flowers are hand-finished, the whole situation is fuck expensive. Lizzy is most likely putting new trim on a straw or wool bonnet she already owns to make it work better for this season's fashions, or a new dress, and possibly recycling trimmings from other hats. Contrast this with Lydia's spending all her pocket money on an ugly hat in Chapter 39, just so she can reduce it to parts, even though she acknowledges she'll also have to buy some extra satin too, to finish the project.

She cares about fashion - we don't get a lot of information on sartorial choices in Austen's work, and when characters are discussing fashion, it tends to be a framework for explaining something about their characters; Miss Steele's need to know how much Marianne's dresses cost (rude, crass); Mrs. Bennet's loving description of the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown (shallow); Catherine Moreland's agonizing over what to wear to the Assembly (young, a bit flighty); Bingley wears a blue coat (has probably read The Sorrows of Young Werther, is fashionable). The fact that Lizzy is trimming a hat tells us she is fashionable, but paired with the fact that she will get a petticoat muddy in order to see her sister, and does not spend a lot of time worrying after fashion like Lydia tells us that she does not live and die on fashion.

She is creative - I've trimmed various hats and bonnets over my years of interest in historical fashion and honestly it's not easy. It's quite fiddly to get a nice ribbon edge, a ruched lining takes forever, and getting sprays of florals and feathers to be nicely shaped and all in a complementary palette is quite fussy. Getting a nice looking bonnet requires some thinking and planning. But it's also great fun! The Regency era is, in my opinion, a particularly good period for hats.

She is normal - I think Austen wants the reader to understand that Lizzy is a young woman with normal cares and concerns. She doesn't have cash for a new bonnet, she wants to look nice, she knows how to put an outfit together, she's not frivolous like her sisters, and she engages in the typical pursuits of someone who is not yet one and twenty who does not have a specific occupation.

A lot of modern readers are expecting Lizzy to be striding around the countryside unconcerned with "girly" things, or reading a clever book because we have come to think of her as proto-feminist in a way that suggests she might be a bra (corset) burner, but I think that comes from an outdated feminist lens that still wants to tell us that girly things are bad, or at least, a bit weak, and I don't see that in the text at all (I think some of this trickles over from the adaptations). Lizzy walks enthusiastically, she enjoys reading (but not to the exclusion of other employments), she dances very well and plays with mediocrity, she cares deeply about her friends and family, she has excellent manners, and dammit, she trims hats.

[dilfguzzler]

john price nsfw headcanons!

i'm currently hyperfixated on john price and want to write more for him. i always like to do an nsfw alphabet to get a feel for the character in my little bird brain

enjoy! open to requests (price and ghost only atm)

f!reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his form of aftercare is definitely quality time. he will have just obliterated you, your mind is in outer fucking space. he'll pull you on top of him, not even cleaning you up yet, just wanting to give you time to come back to yourself.

sometimes the feelings are so much and you'll be crying, just feeling the feels and he'll stroke your back, murmuring how good you were for him, how you're his best girl. once you're fully back to your right mind, he'll get you some water, clean you up and cuddle you until you have a sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

john price is an ass man. nothing else to be said.

he likes his hands. out in the field they cause damage and destruction. but they also keep you safe. they're also the hands that can make you scream and cry in pleasure. he also knows that you have a slight hand kink, so that's a bonus.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

INSIDE. the only time mr. breeding kink will ever not cum in your cunt is if he's coming in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to share you. wants to watch you be fucked by his boys while he watches. wants to place you in any position he wants like he's conducting his own porn shoot. he doesn't know if his possessive streak would ever actually let this happen though.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man has been around. hoowee he knows exactly what he's doing, knows things about your body that you didn't even now

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

honestly, he's up for pretty much anything. he likes to be in control so even if you're riding him, be sure he's the one really in control.

he loves missionary, seeing your face, and command you to keep your eyes open and on him. he can get some real power behind his thrusts in missionary too, so much that you're limping a bit for a few days after.

also, doggy. see B, ass-man

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely more serious. like he might crack a dry-ass dad joke, but he takes his fucking seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

this man is HAIRY. he keeps it under control but he's a very hairy dude

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this one is a tricky one because i definitely think he has two sides.

one side is the feral, dominant man who just wants to FUCK.

the other is this old-fashioned guy, definitely still dominant, who wants to be romantic and charm the pants off you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

over his years in the army and the SAS, he has gotten pretty close with his hand. the only difference now when he's away, he has some abso-fucking-lutely delightful polaroids of you. he particularly loves the ones you sneak into his pockets before he leaves. those are always a nice surprise.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

this man is a kinky old boy. as mentioned before he is mr. breeding kink. defo daddy kink vibes although i cant decide if he likes to be called daddy or sir more. i think he has certain moods for each.

like sometimes he's in the mood to wreck you and wants your total obedience, this is when he likes to be sir.

sometimes he feels a little bit softer and wants you to be his good girl, and is willing to allow you a little bit of leeway and let you mess around a bit more or whatever

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he's a traditional guy. he likes to take you in bed as it's easiest (and god, does he hate to admit it, but his back can't really take anywhere else anymore)

he loves to take you soft and slow on the couch though.

oh, and he'll never forget you sitting on his lap for 2 hours straight, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. he was so proud of you for your minimal squirming and whining.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

simply, you. you literally just wake up in the morning beside him and he wants to fuck you into the middle of next week.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever want to hurt you. like he's not against a bit of slapping, bruising you and being rough but he's always very controlled and knows what he's doing. he would never want to genuinely, seriously hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's a certified pussy eater, i know it. the beard adds so much. but when he eats you out, he's running on his time, he won't stop after one, two, three times. he goes until his jaw hurts.

and while he loves eating you out. fuck it if he doesn't love your mouth on his cock. sometimes he'll just leave you there while he watches the match and smokes a cigar. it's his favourite way to relax.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

as i said above, i think he definitely has two moods. so it depends

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's a busy chap, so yeah he's up for quickies. it's not his favourite of course but sometimes he just needs to be inside you, and he'll take what he can get.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's up for experimenting. but he will never put your safety at risk. also, his job requires a certain level of discretion so he can't be doing anything that could jeopardise that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he hates to think about it, but he can't go like he could in his 20s. he can last ages but he needs a bit more time between rounds. but that doesn't mean there's no time for fun in while he's regrouping himself.

if he's feeling mean, he'll pull out your toy collection and use all sorts of fun stuff on you, not giving you a chance to recover

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yes. you have a toy box full of all sorts of goodies. he loves scouring the internet looking for different things he can use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he does NOT like to be teased. but he will tease you omg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's grunter lol. he'll say some nasty, sweet things to you.

although, you'll never forget the time you made him almost squeal when you did something with your hips while riding him. that was fun

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he's kind of a meanie sometimes and he's so glad you love it and love his grumpy side. he never thought he'd find someone he'd align with so well, not only sexually, but in every other way too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.5in, uncut, thick but not too thick y'know, kind of curves upwards

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not as high as it once was. he loves to fuck but he's also 100% content to sit and watch some shite tv with you or watch you make dinner or some other domestic stuff

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

won't fall asleep until he knows you're happy and fully back to yourself. he's also gotten into the habit of needing a cigar after sex. he can't sleep until he ticks certain boxes

[deadguywalkin]

MORE sebsamalex hcs because i am GAY and EVIL + music taste and bodies hcs

in a relationship together

sam bursts into song at any trigger word. alex joins in. sebastian gets annoyed. (affectionately)

sebastian likes his personal space. sam also likes sebastian’s personal space. 

sam shoves his hands up their shirts while they’re just talking. about anything. he’s clingy and needs skin contact 

‘i don’t feel like talking to anyone right now, but i guess i’m not opposed to silently being held.’

sebalex always do ‘the hand thing tm’ for sam when he’s overwhelmed or nervous.

“Alex save me alex” “WHO NEEDS SAVING?????!!!!!!!!🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️‼️”

“i’m out of facepaint! gimme your eyeliner” “..no?”

tucking seb’s hair behind his ear before they kiss him

hands definitely go through sams hair when they kiss him

hands go to alex’s neck, shoulders, chest,… this guy gets violated compared to the cute hair touching honestly. 

kidding they also just hold his face gently. alex my love grbrbrgrnrbbrbfnf

alex has to take everything verryyy very slowly to adjust to actually dating a guy for the first time. 

he’s also very very surprised to be actually loved and known for the first time, ‘what do you mean you recorded the game for me because i forgot to…? bro, i’ll cry’

sambastian just constantly making out. any time. any where. gay emo boys who don’t care about their reputation sighs

sambastian also love giving each other a shit ton of prominent and visible hickeys to the neck, collar, shoulders and jaws.

general stuff 

seb unintentionally has very flirty body language. he’s just naturally a man whore. the way he moves physically is stiff but he still looks up at taller guys with half-lidded eyes while talking in a low voice. looking down at shorter girls with a soft smirk with his dimples.

samalex are unintentionally flirty vocally. “i wouldn’t want you to go hungry. i care about you. you should be eating well. we could grab some breakfast. you and me. alone.” “why don’t you come to my next gig..? i’ll save you a special spot. just for you.” which they mean as friends but they just don’t hear the underlying tones.

alex would have a good voice if he wasn’t constantly straining it, unfortunately he loves belting passionately and straining his voice for whatever reason

sam is actually GOOD at singing. he’s also a natural when it comes to anything that’s artistic (painting, sketching, music, etc)

alex snores LOUDLY sometimes

sam drools in his sleep also sometimes

sebastian does not sleep. or is never awake. what the fuck is going on with him

all 3 of them got something going on. autism+dyslexia, depression+some sleep disorder, adhd. soorgy :( i don’t make the rules it’s canon :(

sam has a little nose bump like this :3

——

sam: [insert sam talking way too much]

seb: *throws a ball* go fetch, boy

sam: *does it no questions asked, happily*

alternately he would also just feed him any chewy candy he has on hand.

——

sam: i can’t wait to see you again. i love you, alex.

alex: dued 😆 like in a bro way? 😆 i bro you too bro 😆

sam: alex, please be my boyfriend.

alex: boyfreind? like a boy and a friend? i already am! 😆

sam: alex, i want to make out with you.

alex: dude? takeout with me?! one step ahead of you, foods on the way! 😆

——

seb: i wanna grab a midnight snack

alex: you’re the midnight snack.

seb: …?ew

alex: sorry. i mean. um. sorry. i mean. dude. you are. um.

music:

alex: listens to ‘whatever comes on the radio while i’m working out’. hype songs that get him in the mood. also kebby implanted abba into my brain. he just doesn’t listen to music that much.

he’s also somewhat into the strokes, the only band he likes/is consistent with. (reptilia, someday, ode to the mets)

sam: high energy rock, experimental rock, and pretty much anything honestly. 2000s/2010s rock mostly. he listens to everything. anything that sounds good no matter what genre immediately goes into his playlist. he just has an ear for good music.

weezer

blink 182

sublime

the white stripes

wheatus

the frights

and probably every single music artist to ever exist

also sambastian listen to csh together. you’ll have to fight me on this and lose if you disagree

sebastian: grunge, rock, nu metal, general metal, emo, and punk. dabbles in some goth. mostly stuff from the 80s/2000s. he listens to ‘that one time your dad’s friend picked you up from school and played music in the car’

the smashing pumpkins

green day

siouxsie and the banshees

soundgarden

alice in chains

pearl jam

and probably a shit ton of underground stuff i can’t think of 

bodys /ref

alex: not much to imagine here since he’s very confirmed LOL god bless that 6’1 beefcake. dude’s a statue

sam: pretty tall. good looking legs because he was a skater boy (she said see you later, boy) perfect ass. some scars from skating incidents because he’s clumsy

not too much muscle but has that little vertical line down his stomach that indicates he’s growing some abs (not sure what the english word for it is) 

his arms are also pretty thick ? big ? idk

broad shoulders, nice legs and okay arms. he has some bandaids on him aswell because this guy cannot catch a break. he’s not boney nor meaty, a good inbetween.

a few stick and pokes ? i think thats what people call them like a diy tattoo

also his hips don’t lie 🤫

sebastian: lanky, slightly visible ribcage. he’d have broad shoulders if they weren’t slightly curved inwards from having shit posture all his life. upsidown triangle build. contrary to popular belief, he has some muscle in his arms. to work under a motorcycle on your back has to give you some strength. maybe a sleeper build.

cis seb has a very very defined addam’s apple

i can also see a different version of him where he could be stubby looking and have some chub to him.

i also think he’d have some tattoos on him. t-scars and a more defined waist if we’re also mixing in the trans hc. maybe bat tattoos or some kind of fantasy themed tattoos covering over his t scars?

bonus: 

them as kitty breeds

alex: bengal

sam: classic orange cat

sebastian: one of those rustic black cats with the orange patches

+ this image of soogyu is engraved into my head i think this is very them with seb.. the jacket sharing and sleepy head drooping sobs it’s them

shorter dump today aswell bleg

[waywardstation]

While the wip felt a little familiar I didn‘t mimd at all.

Not having too great time right now but reading a wip made me feel a little better overall.

Maybe I should spend the holidays (and the time leading up to them) rereading every fic you’ve written so far to brighten these darker months up!

Thanks for always taking your time to share wips and to answer asks you get send!

Hope you’re doing good and make sure you treat yourself as well!

Always looking forward to updates of any kind here! Thanks for all you do!

Oh dear, but thank you for letting me know!!

I’m sorry to hear things have been rough for you friend. I want to give you another WIP, one that you haven’t read before!!

I do hope very much that you feel better soon and that the holidays are kind to you. It means a lot that you’d like yo go back and reread stuff; it makes me want to get some new stuff out for you! I have a lot of stuff ready, I just need to edit them and go over them a bit more. It may take a bit with all this brain fog, but I miss doing it and I want to do it for you!!!

In any case, here’s a WIP I know I haven’t shared yet. It’s from a short fic that I am 99.999999% was from a request. I honestly had forgotten about it until I went searching through drafts for something new, but it’s almost done, so I should really finish it!

Akari wants to share ice cream that she found with Ingo, but wants to be careful about it. Enjoy!!

—————

“Wait. When was the last time you had any dairy?”

A long, long pause.

“…I can’t recall. Certainly not once during my time here.”

Under the shade of a crooked highlands tree, Ingo and Akari exchanged glances with each other, then stared back down at the object of interest held tight within the teen’s arms — a sealed tub of ice cream, a bit battered from its trip through a space-time distortion, but otherwise intact.

“So,” Akari readjusted the tub in her arms – the condensation was making it slippery. “Over a year, then?”

“At the very least.”

“Don’t people like, get sick if they eat dairy after going without it for a long time?” Akari looked up at him for any possible verification.

“…I cannot say. I’m not confident enough to either confirm nor deny that.” A statement that seemed more like hopeful denial than uncertainty, judging by Ingo’s tone.

“Man. And I brought two spoons and everything.” Akari had really been l excited to share this with him. And it seemed like he had been looking forward to trying it, too — when she had first run over to him and told him that she had salvaged something really special while distortion diving, his eyes seemed to light up with remembrance when she named the treat.

Ice cream! While complete memories had failed to reach him, the feelings had made it through. And those feelings were warm, happy, and good feelings. And that was all he needed to tell him that he had sorely missed ice cream.

“Should you even have this, then?” Akari tilted her head up, giving Ingo a sideways glance.

“In my best interest, ah, perhaps not.”

His words represented logic, but his expression indicated a conflict of interest.

[broodybuck]

Title: The Praise Doctor

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, sex worker Steve, handjobs, top Steve, bottom Bucky, praise kink, first date

[ao3 link]

"Is this how you like it?" Steve asks.

His hand, a loose fist around Bucky, slides up so lightly it's more like a dangerous tease.

Bucky's skin tingles more from the soft tone of the man's voice than his hand although the combination undeniably has an effect on him. Bucky nods.

"You're perfect like this," Steve croons. "You look perfect, all cradled in my lap, naked, writhing. Wanting and needy. Oh Buck, you look just perfect."

Bucky fully shivers at this praise. It is what he paid for after all. Steve Rogers is known as the Praise Doctor in hushed circles. Bucky heard about him at a nightclub. He had gotten the guy's number and called the very next day.

This is exactly what Bucky fantasizes about. To be pleasured and praised endlessly at the same time. It's honestly too good to be true especially when the man himself, Steve Rogers, is as large and beautiful as men come.

"You're completely flushed, baby," Steve coos. "That color looks so good on you."

Steve slides his free palm flatly down Bucky's chest, his hand around Bucky's cock slides back down to the base with a slight squeeze.

"How do you look so good like this? Tell me, sweetheart."

Bucky murmurs out a moan. It's so good, every word Steve says to him is perfect. How does this guy do it so right?

Every session, which has been exactly three so far, has been better than the last and it's becoming a problem. Lately, if Bucky tries to date or even just have meaningless sex, it does nothing for him. No one talks to him enough, touches him enough. No one makes his brain melt the way Steve can. This service is ruining him.

Right now, when he's curled in Steve's lap getting a handjob while being utterly adored, Bucky has no capacity to think about how ruined he is. He can only delve deeper into the blurry pleasure and let it wash over him in waves until he comes in the man's hand — which he undoubtedly will any second now.

All week, Bucky tries not to think about Steve. He tries to flirt with guys at bars, he takes the phone numbers of men his friends want to set him up with. But every Thursday, he's giddy as he walks up the steps to a Brooklyn brownstone and knocks on the door.

Steve lets him in. It's their fourth session tonight. Bucky can feel his stomach turning over and over again, his chest fluttering, his whole body not letting him rest.

"Hey," Steve smiles, closing the door behind Bucky. "I like that shirt on you."

"Oh, yeah?" Bucky stammers, looking down to check what he's wearing.

It's an old Brooklyn tee. It fits a bit snug after so many cycles in the dryer but the fabric is light gray, basic cotton. He hadn't put much thought into what he would wear on these nights since he knew the clothes would be coming off. Maybe he should've thought about it more. Suddenly self-conscious, Bucky shifts uncomfortably in place.

"Yeah," Steve answers. "But you know I'd like it much better, off."

Bucky breathes a little easier. Since he's overthinking his clothes so much, he'd much rather be naked right now. He tugs the collar of his shirt up and over his head, happy to be free of it. He considers for a moment what he'll wear next time. Then the thought leaves his brain when Steve quickly closes the space between them.

"Mhm, much better," Steve hums, his gaze trailing down Bucky's chest. A fingertip circles one of Bucky's nipples tantalizingly slow.

When he applies pressure over the nub, Bucky squeaks out an embarrassing sound. He's always making noises he hasn't heard himself make. Only Steve gets them out of him. Only Steve. It's seriously a problem. He shouldn't be this attached to a sex worker, a man he's paying to please him.

Steve drops to his knees and carefully works open Bucky's jeans. Bucky steps out of his pants and shoes as Steve rolls them down his legs.

Steve's eyes focus on the hard line in Bucky's boxer briefs. Steve sighs blissfully like he's happy to see Bucky erect. He's still on his knees.

"Do you know how beautiful you are under here?" Steve asks quietly, his palm grazing Bucky's erection.

Bucky's eyes slip shut, his head tilts back automatically as he feels Steve push his underwear down and hot air breathe over his cock.

Steve nudges his ankles, directing him to step out of the undergarment. Bucky opens his eyes, following the instruction, realizing he's already lost himself so quickly.

Steve stands with a smile and frames Bucky's face.

"Would you like to come for me, tonight?"

Bucky nods then blinks hard and remembers he's supposed to answer verbally.

"Yes."

"I love to see you let go for me, Buck. It's breathtaking, honest, watching it all spill out of you. Watching that good release run through you."

Bucky bites his bottom lip, feeling his skin heat to an unfair temperature. His knees wobble enough that he sways forward. Steve notices and grips Bucky's arms to steady him.

"Let's get you to the bed, sweetheart."

This session is not long. In fact, tonight Bucky comes embarrassingly fast. He's not sure what it is. You'd think he'd be used to it, being this is the fourth time he's seeing Steve.

But he can't get used to it. Steve finds something new to say every time. He praises a different part of Bucky, makes a big deal out of the way Bucky does anything, even things he can't help. It makes Bucky so hot, he doesn't feel in control of his body. And tonight, he certainly wasn't.

Usually, their sessions last a good forty-five minutes and then with cleanup and redressing, it might round out to an hour. This time, Bucky's panting from his orgasm when he checks the time. It's been thirteen minutes. Jesus, that's humiliating.

He can feels the hot blush on his face as he avoids Steve's gaze.

"Sorry, um..." Bucky starts.

"No need to apologize. It's a good thing, baby. I'm flattered I could get you there so fast, tonight," Steve whispers.

And sure, his words still tingle on Bucky's skin but it doesn't make him feel all that better about what happened.

Bucky tries to sit up. He's always in Steve's lap. It's something that just sort of happened the first time and Bucky loved it too much to give it up since then.

Steve sits back on the bed giving him room to move but Bucky doesn't make it very far when Steve says, "We still have the rest of the hour."

Bucky freezes, finally daring to look at him again.

"Of course, it's up to you. But I'm betting I could get a second round of you," Steve smirks. Obviously, Bucky's not going anywhere now.

"Oh... yeah, okay," Bucky stammers.

"Or..." Steve says. This time he looks away which is unusual. He looks worried when he says, "I could ask you something I shouldn't."

Bucky's heart leaps in his chest. He has no idea what Steve's about to ask him and yet, somehow he knows he wants him to.

"This is so out of line and unprofessional," Steve goes on. Bucky considers for a moment whether he should still be in Steve's lap for this but he's unable to move at this point. "But I'd really like to take you to dinner."

Bucky's eyes betray him and widen enormously. Steve smiles shyly.

"There's no pressure, obviously. I know you hired me and this wouldn't have anything to do with that. I'm asking you for a... date," Steve clarifies. "If you're interested."

"Yes," Bucky says without taking another second to think. He can barely breathe he's so in. "Tonight?"

"Well, we have the time and it's only 7:15. So, yes, if you're hungry."

"I don't have anything else to wear," Bucky says, peering over to his pile of casual clothes on the ground. He really regrets the outfit now.

"I can lend you something if that's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve smiles honestly now and then carefully lifts Bucky off his lap and sets him on the mattress before venturing to his closet. He comes back with a nice sweater and dress pants.

"These should fit. Let me change too," Steve says handing him the clothes.

Bucky gets off the bed to grab his underwear and then dresses in Steve's clothes.

He feels a wave of nerves wash over him when Steve reappears in a nicer outfit and looks Bucky over.

"I like that sweater on you," Steve remarks.

"Steve," Bucky warns, his face turning warm instantly.

"Hm?" he smiles innocently.

"I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are, can't I compliment how you look?"

"You know why you can't," Bucky argues, his voice strained.

"Alright, I'll save that for later," Steve smirks and holds out his hand.

Bucky takes it and they walk together to Steve's car.

Dinner is at a very nice restaurant downtown. Bucky's overwhelmed with how he's feeling. He's still shocked he's here and at the same time, the thought of getting to date the man who's able to make him feel like no one else... well, that would solve a whole lot of problems. He hasn't stopped thinking about Steve for a month now. So, yeah he's excited to be here.

"So, have you taken others out like this?" Bucky asks cautiously.

"No, you're the first," Steve says. "This is completely separate from my services. I made that clear, right?"

"Yeah, you did. I guess I'm just wondering... why me?"

"You're my type," Steve admits. "I've been holding back since our first meeting, trying to keep things professional. Then... I don't know, I figured what the hell, why not try?"

Bucky nods trying not to keen too hard at his words.

"You're um, my type too," Bucky replies after an extended beat.

"I am?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm sure you're a lot of people's type. You're like gorgeous."

"And here I thought I was the Prasie Doctor," Steve says low enough that no one else should hear but it still makes Bucky's face flush.

"Have other people tried?" Bucky asks to distract from it.

"Tried what?"

"To ask you out or something?"

"No, actually. Everyone has been very professional," Steve reveals.

"Huh," Bucky remarks surprised.

"Are you comfortable being here?" Steve asks. "On a date with me?"

"Yeah. I'm nervous, but comfortable," Bucky answers honestly.

"Well, there's no need to be nervous, Buck. You already know how fond I am of you — with all of you."

Bucky blushes hard and tries to hide the way he bites his lip when he looks away. Steve laughs lightheartedly.

"Sorry, just a habit."

Bucky knows he should flirt back. He swears with anyone else, he would have.

"That's okay," Bucky says. "I don't know why I'm so nervous with you. I shouldn't be given..."

"It's completely understandable. We've shared an experience most haven't. It's a unique situation that we're now trying to adjust away from."

"Yeah. You seem smart," Bucky comments.

"Thank you," Steve says. "I'd love to learn more about you, Buck."

"What do you wanna know?"

"Anything. Start from the beginning," Steve smiles.

That calms Bucky and he starts telling his life story. He talks a little too long and by the end of the dinner, he realizes how much he's been talking. Then he notices Steve's been listening to every word without a single interruption.

"Sorry, I've been talking forever. I should be asking about you," Bucky apologizes.

"No, I'm really enjoying this," Steve says. "Besides, I figured I can tell you more about myself tonight."

"Tonight?"

"When we get back to my place. I may be getting ahead of myself, but based on our history I figured more would happen tonight. And as much as I've loved seeing you, I really want to show you all of me."

Bucky gulps. He's not sure if he's nervous or just turned on now, probably both. He really wants to see Steve, all of Steve, oh god just the thought is getting him hot and bothered.

Bucky merely nods and is grateful when the check is dropped off.

Being back in Steve's bedroom is a whole new experience tonight. He's not cradled in Steve's lap, he's not the only one naked and he's not simply getting a handjob while Steve praises him every second.

No, they're kissing tonight. Passionately, fully on the mouth, tongue and all. Steve's a good kisser and good with his hands. He's undressing both of them, Bucky likes how he's taking the lead, he could've guessed he would.

Steve's kissing down Bucky's neck by the time Bucky realizes they're both naked and he barely gets a chance to look at Steve before he's being laid down on the bed. Bucky opens his eyes and tries to take it all in. A nude Steve over him, rubbing against him. His eyes fall closed from the sensation, from the arousal building too high, too quickly.

Steve kisses him again.

"Do you want to..." he asks breathlessly.

"Yeah," Bucky answers readily and opens his legs on instinct. He's almost embarrassed about it especially when Steve notices with a pause. But thankfully, Steve doesn't let any shame linger.

"Oh honey, you're so good for me. You know that? Look at you, spreading your legs for me. You want me inside you, doll?"

Bucky shivers, a full-body one. How is he going to handle this man's constant praise with his cock inside him? He's never wanted something so badly in his life.

"Please, Steve. Yes," Bucky whimpers and watches Steve fetch lube and a condom out of the nightstand drawer.

He begins opening Bucky up, one finger at a time.

"Keep talking to me," Bucky pleads in a whisper.

He thinks, maybe he's not supposed to ask that of Steve anymore. He's not at an appointment with the Praise Doctor anymore, he's on a date with Steve. Thankfully, Steve quickly quiets his worries.

"Sorry honey, was just admiring how good you feel. Haven't gotten to feel you like this before — I got a little lost," Steve says.

He smiles shyly, a blush coats his cheeks. Bucky can't believe Steve is embarrassed for once. God, that's a new level of hot. Bucky squirms from it and Steve presses a hand on his chest while fitting another finger inside him.

When he's ready, Steve coats his cock with more lube and then stares intently into Bucky's eyes.

"You have no idea how long I've been imagining this," Steve tells him, pushing the head of his cock against the rim. Bucky whimpers. He can't even talk, he just wants it — needs it.

"Can't believe you haven't felt how hard I was. I was trying to hide it, but god, I didn't think I was doing a good job," Steve half laughs.

Bucky tries to think back but his mind is too fuzzy. He mainly remembers every praise, every touch of the man's hands. Maybe he was only thinking of himself, he's not sure, but he can't remember feeling Steve under him.

"I was so hard, every damn time," Steve shares. "Getting to make you come has been the highlight of my week. But this, baby, this is going to surpass all of that. I need to be inside you, need to feel you around me."

"God, yes. Fuck me, Steve. Please, god, fuck me," Bucky blurts out.

Steve pushes inside, faster than Bucky anticipates, but it's only a moment of pain before his body settles around the thickness filling him. He breathes out as Steve kisses him hard on the mouth. He kisses him back and then Steve starts fucking him.

"You're all I've been thinking about," Bucky says.

Steve looks right at him, still fucking him while listening to every word.

"You were ruining me with a handjob. God, but no one could make me feel as good as you, I swear," Bucky whines.

"Fuck, Bucky. Shit," Steve curses and fucks him harder like he can't help himself.

Bucky moans out, gripping Steve tighter, arching up into the increasing thrusts.

"Want you to come in me," Bucky stutters by Steve's ear and the man's pace falters again.

"Shit, Buck. Thought I was supposed to be good with words. Since when do you got a mouth like this?"

He crushes their mouths together before Bucky can answer. It's so hot, so perfect, and Steve picks back up the pace. Fucking him like he's on a mission like he's putting all his strength into it.

Bucky moans, way too close, even when he's already come tonight, earlier with the fastest handjob he's ever came from.

"Steve— shit, sorry."

"Don't you ever apologize for needing to come, Buck," Steve snaps by his ear but it's not angry, it's just demanding and hot. "Don't you ever apologize for showing me how good I make you feel. Fuck, you're amazing. You're perfect."

And it dawns on Bucky then that maybe all of Steve's praise wasn't just part of the job. Maybe all the new things he was always thinking to say was because Steve was finding them for the first time, he was falling for Bucky all this time.

With that revelation, Bucky comes hard and loud. Steve kisses him, keeps fucking him through it, and then it's not long until he's following suit. He stills inside him, his cock throbs with each eruption of come that fills Bucky up.

This feels so right, how it should. This is what was missing all those other times. They both needed to finish, Bucky needed Steve inside him to feel truly satisfied.

And the best part of this all, he doesn't have to wait a week to see Steve again.

[helloanthy]

🗒️ 24.04.2024 ⋅⋅⋅ 🥀

some notes for 20.09.2023 post and a separate cut out for utena because i spent a very long time rendering her ... the original concept i had in my head for this art was very different. it was just supposed to be a style study of this an official anime prop design art, and i'd thought to draw anthy in a similar pose across from her like in the shown version, but with her wearing her prince outfit from the manga. something something another form of female competition under the patriarchyyy stop pitting 2 girlprinces against each other omg etc (side note, how sick would it have been in an AU where akio made anthy fight against utena in the ring? like i dont think it would hav added more to the story or made it better really ... probably would've diluted the message to be honest ... but everytime i see that manga art of prince anthy i imagine some convoluted black rose arc AU where utenas dodging anthy getting her hair hacked off left and right like himemiyaaa nooo snap out of it this isnt uuu while anthys silent and dead eyed hahaha) but then after i drew prince anthy, the picture looked rather empty ... so i thought to add a few decals or borders in the style of the show & official arts but aaahh ... there was still too much negative space. i had to scrap anthy's prince outfit and put her back in her rose bride dress 😭 man !!! he cant keep getting away this !!! [blames akio the figurehead of patriarchy instead of taking responsibility of my own actions] which made me sad because i was pretty satisfied with the way i drew her pose and legs ! but i had to cover it up 🥲 ... the composition overall looked better though. and then after that it kept spiraling. i just kept adding more and more things until i lost control of this drawing and it plagued my WIP folder for months ... i dont want to try and connect all of it in words so ill just lay out all the pieces for you so you can connect them yourself. and you can experience my art thought process in fraction of erraticity and frustration as i experience it myself. this is a lot neater than what happened in my head though because i bothered to put it in order. honestly if i can make you feel a little bit insane trying to scroll through and read all this than i can make you understand how annoying my brain is when all i wanted to draw was utenanthy girlprinces fighting starting references & inspiration: utena prop reference sheet & manga prince!anthy

the tower & the lovers tarot

above: the lovers as depicted in the tarot of marseilles deck, tarocco bolognese deck, & tarocco piemontese deck the lovers (tarot card) wikipedia: The Lovers is associated with the star sign Gemini, and indeed is also known as The Twins in some decks. Other associations are with Air, Mercury, and the Hebrew letter ז (Zayin). In the Rider Waite deck, the imagery for this card is changed significantly from the traditional depiction. Instead of a couple receiving a blessing from a noble or cleric, the Rider–Waite deck depicts Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.6: UPRIGHT: Attraction, love, beauty, trials overcome REVERSED: Failure, foolish designs. Another account speaks of marriage frustrated and contrarieties of all kinds a.e. waite, the pictorial key to tarot, part II, VI. the lovers: In the foreground are two human figures, male and female, unveiled before each other, as if Adam and Eve when they first occupied the paradise of the earthly body. Behind the man is the Tree of Life, bearing twelve fruits, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is behind the woman; the serpent is twining round it. The figures suggest youth, virginity, innocence and love before it is contaminated by gross material desire. This is in all simplicity the card of human love, here exhibited as part of the way, the truth and the life. It replaces, by recourse to first principles, the old card of marriage, which I have described previously, and the later follies which depicted man between vice and virtue. In a very high sense, the card is a mystery of the Covenant and Sabbath. The suggestion in respect of the woman is that she signifies that attraction towards the sensitive life which carries within it the idea of the Fall of Man, but she is rather the working of a Secret Law of Providence than a willing and conscious temptress. It is through her imputed lapse that man shall arise ultimately, and only by her can he complete himself. The card is therefore in its way another intimation concerning the great mystery of womanhood. going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the lovers: UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values In its purest form, The Lovers card represents conscious connections and meaningful relationships. The arrival of this card in a Tarot reading shows that you have a beautiful, soul-honoring connection with a loved one. [...] The Lovers is a card of open communication and raw honesty. Given that the man and woman are naked, they are both willing to be in their most vulnerable states and have learned to open their hearts to one another and share their truest feelings. [...] On a more personal level, The Lovers card represents getting clear about your values and beliefs. You are figuring out what you stand for and your philosophy. Having gone through the indoctrination of The Hierophant, you are now ready to establish your belief system and decide what is and what is not essential to you. It’s time to go into the big wide world and make choices for yourself, staying true to who you are and being authentic and genuine in all your endeavors. At its heart, The Lovers is about choice. The choice about who you want to be in this lifetime, how you connect with others and on what level, and about what you will and won’t stand for. To make good choices, you need to be clear about your personal beliefs and values – and stay true to them. Not all decisions will be easy either. The Lovers card is often a sign that you are facing a moral dilemma and must consider all consequences before acting. Your values system is being challenged, and you are being called to take the higher path, even if it is difficult. Do not carry out a decision based on fear or worry or guilt or shame. Now, more than ever, you must choose love – love for yourself, love for others and love for the Universe. Choose the best version of yourself. Finally, The Lovers card encourages you to unify dual forces. You can bring together two parts that are seemingly in opposition to one another and create something that is ‘whole’, unified and harmonious. In every choice, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. When you accept these dualities, you build the unity from which love flows.

the tower (tarot card) wikipedia: The Tower is widely associated to danger, crisis, sudden change, destruction, higher learning, and liberation. In the Rider–Waite deck, the top of The Tower is a crown, which symbolizes materialistic thought being bought cheap, downcast. a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.16: UPRIGHT: Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe REVERSED: According to one account, the same in a lesser degree also oppression, imprisonment, tyranny (the wikipedia included a.e. waite's upright meanings, but i have no idea where they got the reversed meanings) going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the tower: UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster The Tower shows a tall tower perched on the top of a rocky mountain. Lightning strikes set the building alight, and two people leap from the windows, head first and arms outstretched. It is a scene of chaos and destruction. The Tower itself is a solid structure, but because it has been built on shaky foundations, it only takes one bolt of lightning to bring it down. It represents ambitions and goals made on false premises. The lightning represents a sudden surge of energy and insight that leads to a break-through or revelation. It enters via the top of the building and knocks off the crown, symbolizing energy flowing down from the Universe, through the crown chakra. The people are desperate to escape from the burning building, not knowing what awaits them as they fall. [...] The best way forward is to let this structure self-destruct so you can re-build and re-focus. [...] with a card like The Tower, you have no choice but to surrender to the destruction and chaos, no matter how unwanted or painful [...] After a Tower experience, you will grow stronger, wiser and more resilient as you develop a new perspective on life you did not even know existed. 

infant stars taken by NASA hubble used in the background overlay of akio's tower star birth | cool cosmos: Stars form from the simplest of building blocks - huge clouds of gas and dust that permeate the Galaxy. [...] While these big clouds of dust and gas lay dormant for many millions and perhaps billions of years, eventually some of them are disturbed. This can happen gradually, maybe caused by the approach of one of the Milky Way's spiral arms as it slowly sweeps around the center of the galaxy, or it can be a sudden event, like a nearby supernova explosion that blasts a shockwave through the cloud. Either way, a small increase in the pressure and density of the cloud forms knots in the gas and dust that eventually collapse under their own gravity, pulling more and more of the surrounding material in, and forming the stellar "seeds" known as protostars. From Protostar to Star: As the clouds collapse, they start to rotate, and, like a spinning skater pulling in her arms, each of these seed protostars begins to spin faster the more it collapses. The material falling towards the protostar flattens out into a rotating disk of dust and gas encircling the central core. The protostar warms up, as the potential energy of the material falling in is converted into kinetic energy, but it has not yet ignited to form a fully-fledged star. For the next few million years, the protostar's gravity pulls in more material from the surrounding cloud into its disk. That disk transports the gas and dust onto the protostar, causing the protostar to grow. The increase in mass causes the gravitational field of the protostar to increase and so even more material is pulled into the disk. The addition of more material, in turn, increases the gravitational field even further, pulling in more material, and so on, creating a feedback loop that keeps the whole process going. [...] The density and temperature of the protostar keep climbing higher and higher, until eventually the core grows to about one tenth the size of our Sun, and becomes hot and dense enough for hydrogen nuclei to spontaneously stick together to form helium, in a process called nuclear fusion. At that instant, the core ignites, and the new star is born. Meanwhile, in the disk, clumps of material have been forming, which are the seeds of new planets. These seeds sweep up material in the disk in a process called accretion, forming the planets of a new solar system. Once the star has started nuclear fusion, the heat and wind from the infant star begin to blast the gas and dust away, creating a cavity in the cloud. As more and more matter gets funneled onto the star from the disk, the star gets larger and larger, causing it to push harder and harder against the cloud and the disk, enlarging the cavity, vaporizing the disk, and halting the growth of planets.

deadheading (flowers) wikipedia: Deadheading is the horticultural practice of removing spent flowers from ornamental plants. Deadheading is a widespread form of pruning, since fading flowers are not as appealing and direct a lot of energy into seed development if pollinated. The goal of deadheading is thus to preserve the attractiveness of the plants in beds, borders, containers and hanging baskets, as well as to encourage further blooming. Deadheading flowers with many petals, such as roses, peonies, and camellias prevents them from littering.

[...] Ornamental plants that do not require deadheading are those that do not produce a lot of seed or tend to deadhead themselves [...] if the plant bears attractive seeds or fruits, deadheading is normally avoided

ladybird, ladybug, lady beetle: scientific name "coccinellidae" wikipedia: Etymology: [...] The common English name ladybird originated in Britain where the insects became known as "Our Lady's birds". Mary ("Our Lady") was often depicted wearing a red cloak in early art, and the seven spots of the species Coccinella septempunctata (the most common in Europe) were said to represent her seven joys and seven sorrows. Trophic Roles: Coccinellids act both as predators, prey and parasitic hosts in food webs. The majority of coccinellids are carnivorous and predatory. [...] Cannibalism has been recorded in several species; which includes larvae eating eggs or other larvae, and adults feeding on individuals of any life stage.

Defense: The bright warning colouration of many coccinellids discourage potential predators, warning of their toxicity [...] Species with more contrast with the background environment tended to be more toxic. Coccinellid haemolymph (blood) contains toxic alkaloids, azamacrolides and polyamines, as well as foul-smelling pyrazines. Coccinellids can produce at least 50 types of alkaloids. When disturbed, ladybirds further defend themselves with reflex bleeding, exuding drops from their tibio-femoral (knee) joints, effectively presenting predators with a sample of their toxic and bitter body fluid.

despite said being named after the lady virgin mary they are known to be promiscuous breeders, who's habits have been documented to result in epidemics of sexually transmitted infection in large populations, subject to various academic studies

lyric from lady oscar's theme song "the rose perishes beautifully"

ok there was more but its been like 8 hours it turns out trying to put my thoughts into words even if its just a bunch of copy pasting is even more annoying than just thinking them im ending this post 😭

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( Joel Miller x Reader ) part 10 No Outbreak! au

summary : peach got something to ask joel , joel's terrified it maybe the end and tommy is excited to share his news

warning : insecurities but mainly fluffy like these two deserve

previous part

 strange yet welcoming ,  six month after the worst time  in life . Going to therapy was hard at first few session she barely spoke a word then when she did start it was like she couldn’t stop , it call came pouring out, all the anger, pain and guilt that was building all her life , learning to be her own human and know none of it was her fault . it was a process one she was still learning but getting better at . she was starting to ditch the clothes that she was made wear or trained to wear  now she was wearing what she wanted to finding her style , like finding her true self. she was more open not a total social butterfly but it was better than before bantering with the guys at her grandfathers construction site as she was still working in the office.  another good thing was joel, joel miller was there for it all hiding her after her sessions when she cried it all out ,  hyping her up when she was trying new clothes to get although he hadn't a clue of what was what but he did know she looked beautiful and she was looking happy .  he helped her get rid of the spray paint covering it with paint and wallpaper  making sure  it was completely gone . what he did not expect was a brand new pick up truck in his yard another gift trying to get her to take it back was half the battle but she was more stubborn than he was . he wanted her to know he love d her way before all this money business and she would smile and tell him thats why she did it . 

“ you loved me at the lowest of my lows so enjoy the highs with me”  not that she was splashing the cash that much honestly she barely did, biggest thing she  buy for herself was new truck herself one she been wanting since she was little girl .  

she sat on her porch  looking out brow furrowed when he found her . then that look he loved so much , the bright smile and love in her eyes . one look that had him feeling like the luckiest man in the world. yet something was there he couldn't tell what exactly it was but something was there. that had her gaze down and her feet shuffling . 

“ peach baby what’s wrong” . 

“  can we talk” she breathe out her face unreadable as she sat down . 

yet his own experience had him fearing everything , thinking of every interaction.  was she realizing she could do better. did he upset her . it all swirled in his head as he gulped nodding joining her on the step waiting for it waiting for the bubble to pop . 

“been thinking about this alot lately and i can't stop like it permanently  stuck in my brain and driving me crazy” she began as he felt the bile rising in his throat.  

“ baby its ok i get it” he sighed trying to brace himself. 

“ i don't think you do cause if you do then this will be harder ,  i didn't know what love was i mean other family love but love love gosh that was just a pipe dream something i wouldn’t never get a grasp on or so i though then i met you and you really showed me it all what it’s like to be love , i’m not some possession to show of or a source of release and i wanna take that next step with you not marriage way off of that but i would like to more so i wanna wake up every morning and go to bed at your side  , no pressure i mean if you don’t want to that’s totally fine but i wanted to ask “ she sighed feeling the weight of the want and question leaving her . 

“ of course i wanna live with you peach shit i thought you were breaking up with me or something which would be worst day of my life because honestly sad to say at my age this first time i know actual love love too “ he chuckled weakly pulling her to the side. 

“ we have to ask the girls too i mean space here for them actually more space than necessary  but they can have their own rooms and stuff” she smiled brightly , excitedly . 

“ i’ll tell them later but i think we both know that their gonna be happy  they wanted you to move in since they met you “ he kissed her head. 

“ they’re coming in like a month ohh we can let them do their own rooms up or we can do it  get them send me pinterest posts “ . 

“ tommy could stay too” 

“Nah think time tommy start living on his own but he sure is happy for you both “ the man himself smirked  heading towards the two . “ i ain’t staying so wait til i  leave before you two start getting all gross just coming to say i was going on date and be home late” he winked. 

“ you finally asked her out “ peach beamed up at the man . 

“ asked who out ?” . 

“ maria duh “ she rolled her eye patting his shoulder . 

“ i did and she said yes so i better go get ready any last advice “  

“ be the sweet you not the overly flirty you sweet you is just perfect amount of flirty without overdoing it and less cologne “ she nodded as joel hid his face. 

“ do i wear too much “ he asked smile falling off his own . 

“ YES” The said in unison . 

“ ok ok fair observation harsh b

ut fair i guess “ he nodded . 

“ i’m kidding just be you  she likes that “

“ wish me luck and congratulations “ he called as he ran off excitedly . 

“ i’ll be dammed i think he’s nervous , he usually cocky little shit he must really like her” joel  scratched back of his neck . 

“  you realize he stay with her the night i was stabbed because he was terrified she was hurt  , he’s been crazy about her long before he even knew it himself kinda like i was with you “ she kissed his cheek . 

“ first time i met you i was a goner “ 

“ you looked grumpy when i met you first “ she snorted . 

“ that was me trying to play it cool …really grumpy ? “ 

“ yup hot ass grumpy teddy bear. But i love my hot ass grumpy teddy bear” she nodded .

“ old ass grump “ he corrected 

“ hot ass grump just take my damn compliment miller plus ain’t old not when your …”

“ yeah yeah  i mean got keep my girl happy don’t i” he winked lifting her up bridal style carrying her to the front . 

“ i love you joel “ she kissed his cheek 

“ i love you too peach gonna show you how woman like you truly deserves to be love, my sweet peach i’ll show you different “ he crash his lips to her carrying her in the house and really ready to start a better life both deserve. 

Fin

taglist : @harriedandharassed @missladym1981

a.n thank you to all that have read and enjoy the story of peach and joel really love writing this series , i could of done whole damsel in distress thing but we like a badass chick

.

[sweet-radio]

Hellooo to anyone who sees this!

‼️NOT Taking requests ‼️

Hi! I’m a new-ish writer. And i wanna practice writing more! i have a story im doing (that i’ll be posting here and ao3 eventually it’ll be awhile because it’s under heavy editing.)

But i wanted to get some writing under my belt!and get use to posting the writing, since ive never done that before! So if you have any requests let me know!! I’m super involved/know a lot about the following fandoms!! (this may be edited later on if/when i get into more fandoms. Or if my hyperfixations have changed)

Final space 🚀

Hazbin Hotel 😈

Helluva Boss 😈

I do wlw fics too not just straight (cough i’m in love with Verosika Mayday and carmilla carmine please any authors out there please write more wlw for my queens 😞cough)

If i don’t answer or anything for awhile it could be that my adhd brain thought i did,or honestly FORGOT to answer tbh.

OR it’s taking me awhile,or it could be that what you requested might not be up my alley personally! I might (probably) edit this later lol but yeah,if you have any requests (including human alastor btw ‼️‼️ because i love that man sm)

Thank you so much for reading! have a great day!

[wannab-urs]

Build Me Up, Buttercup | Professor!Joel Miller x Student!Reader

Summary: Reader confronts Dr. Miller about her grade in his class.

Warnings: Not much yet. Reader is of legal age, no less than 22 but not specified, she's about to graduate college. She’s an English major. This is grumpy x grumpy. Lots of snark, eyerolling, etc. Not-Quite-Enemies to Lovers. And no she doesn’t blow him to get a better grade! (I would, but reader is classy). 

Word Count: 1.1k

Why Do You Build Me Up

(Buttercup)

Dr. Miller’s Foundations of Architecture class was supposed to be a fun elective for you. You could learn a little more about architecture, something that has always been a mild interest for you. You like pretty buildings and you think it’s a cool subject. It’s your last semester of college and you deserve to take something fun to fill in that last elective requirement. 

You certainly were not supposed to fail the fucking class.

“He’s so rude, Cooper,”  you tell your friend. Coop looks up at you over their laptop, red curls springing in every direction and glasses sitting on the tip of their nose. They’re feigning interest while they hammer away at some graphic design assignment.

“One time he made a guy who said he liked 432 Park Ave leave the class. Like just kicked him out for the rest of the day! I mean that building is awful, but still!” Coop heaves a sigh and shuts their laptop. 

“Is this that hot professor you told me about or is it the one who always wears really weird outfits?” 

“No! The weird outfits guy is my Chaucer professor,” you choose to ignore the first half of that question. “I have words for him too, actually. He keeps-”

“Focus! Why are you failing Arc?” 

“His essays are insane! Like, this is not English class, my guy, why are you grading me so hard? I’m literally an English major! You’d think my writing would be more than acceptable for a freshman level class.” 

He had given you a D on your paper about gothic architecture. You’d chosen to write about the Santa Maria del Fiore in Italy and he took off THREE letter grades because they finished the construction in the neo-gothic style… which you had made a whole section of your paper about. It’s perfectly valid. It’s not like he really gave you much to go on. 

“Did you follow the prompt? Sometimes your brain takes you places the question didn’t exactly call for…” they give you a knowing look. 

“This isn’t a fanfic writing challenge, Coop, I can follow a damn prompt. He doesn’t give us anything to go on at all for these essays! Or for anything else, really.” 

He is the least verbose professor you have ever had. It’s honestly kind of refreshing for a man to not love the sound of his own voice, but you’re also paying him to teach you something. 

“The essay prompt was literally ‘Gothic Architecture’ and the guidelines were ‘12 pages, double spaced, due March 19th.’" You drop your voice into its lowest register, mimicking Dr. Miller's deep baritone. "And that’s what I wrote!” Someone shushes you from behind a bookshelf. You’re getting a little over excited, borderline yelling in the library about this infuriating man.

“Have you tried going to his office hours?” God why are they always so reasonable?

“Have you tried going to his office hours… No. I have not. He’s rude, remember?” 

“Just try it! What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“He could drop my paper down to an F.”

“And you could report him for unfair grading practices. Go. Shoo,” Coop starts pushing your books toward your bag. 

“Fiiiiiine,” you relent.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself standing in the doorway of his office. Dr. Miller is sitting behind a large wooden desk. It’s very neat, the only things on it a computer, a picture frame turned away from you, and a stack of books. Dr. Miller has one of the books open and is writing something in a notebook, brow furrowed and tongue poking out between his lips. 

“Dr. Miller?” you ask hesitantly. 

He doesn’t look up from his work, just lifts a hand vaguely in your direction for a second and keeps writing. You roll your eyes and look around the office. There are bookshelves lining the walls with architecture textbooks in neat rows. A few covers of Architectural Digest are framed on the wall. Is he in those?

Your eyes land back on him. He’s wearing a dark grey Fleetwood Mac shirt that looks old as hell. The collar is stretched, revealing a bit of his chest. Your eyes trace a line up the column of this throat… He has a nice neck. 

You had called him your hot professor at the beginning of the semester, regardless of how you felt about him now. There’s just something about that fluffy bed head he always has, like he couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it. And the scruffy beard laced with grey he doesn’t seem keen on trimming. And the way his mustache frames his pouty lips. And his prominent nose that looks straight out of a painting. And okay that’s enough. 

“Dr. Miller, I need to talk to you.” 

“M’busy,” he mumbles out, still not looking up from the textbook. 

“Okay, well it’s your office hours, so technically you have to talk to me.” 

“Technically, little miss, I don’t have to do anything.”

“Excuse me? Let’s not speak to grown women like they’re children, sir.” Is he fucking for real right now?

He closes his notebook and looks at you for the first time since you walked in. Probably the first time all semester. He kind of pauses when he sees you, hopefully realizing he isn’t talking to a freshman. It wouldn’t make the little nickname okay, but it would make more sense at least. 

He looks you up and down and his jaw ticks, “Sit.” His eyes flick to the chair in front of his desk. You drop your bag on the floor and slide into the seat. “So. What can I help you with?”

You take a deep breath. “You gave me a D on my last paper.” 

He just stares at you. 

“And considering our prompt was all of 8 words, I think- I know I met the requirements and that I did a good job. It was thoroughly researched, structured well, copy and content edited, and turned in 2 days before deadline. I would like an explanation-” 

“Enough,” he cuts you off. “I don’t have to justify my gradin’ decisions to you.” 

You let out a frustrated puff of air. This man drives you insane. “Dr. Miller, I’m a senior. I took this class to fulfill an elective requirement and because I like architecture. I would like to understand what is so egregious about my writing that you would have me fail a class in my last semester of college.” 

He considers you for a moment, meeting your eyes. He lowers his brow, screws up his mouth from side to side, like he’s thinking hard about something. “I’ll reread it.” 

Not I’ll reconsider your grade, but at least it’s something. “Thank you.” You grab your bag, moving to leave, and he stops you. 

“Wait!” You pause, arching an eyebrow. “What was your name again?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. 

“Seriously? I’ve been in your class since January. Figure it out.” 

You storm out, slamming the door behind you.  

A/N: This will be my first series! I'm really excited to try some actual characterization and plot, which I've never really played around with before. Constructive criticism in my DMs is always appreciated <3

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