#veiny forearms are very attractive

[catdreamphilosopher]

[ronanlynchbf]

i literally will never understand casual dating like wdym i give my heart to someone & open up to them & be vulnerable with them and then we break up after a few months there's no way. Die for me or don't hit me up at all 🙄

[risuola]

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

my little voyeur

neighbour!loganxvoyeur!reader

a/n: so sorry about the hiatus, started university and midterms are already here, crazy. anyway, enjoy this little idea i had, inspired by a real life situation. xox

wc:3.1k

MDNI !!! 18+, AGE GAP, SEXUAL CONTENT, ALCOHOL USE

summary: Y/N is growing needier with every one-night stand her hot neighbour brings over, one night she decides to be his next.

"-Oh fuck, keep going!" A muffled voice cried between the rhythmic thumping noises that came from the ceiling above you.

You bit down on your lip, shifting needily on your sofa. 

"Here we go again" You mumbled to yourself, glancing at the clock on your microwave.

8:37 PM. 

"Earlier than usual... Do you have to be somewhere early tomorrow?" You pressed the mute button on your TV remote to get a better listen.

The intrigue in your neighbour's activity had been a shameful recent development. He'd have company over almost every night now; which meant constant, rough sex.

The shared two-story house was old, and the walls were poorly insulated, which surely didn't aid your newfound obsession. Your unit was the basement suite: a homely one-bedroom, one-bathroom with a large kitchenette and living room. Even though you both lived in the same quarters, you both had your own respective spaces and entrances, which meant you rarely crossed paths. 

You knew little about the man upstairs, only that he lived alone, wasn't the talkative type, and rode a Harley Davidson that was equally as loud as his one-night stands.

Though it was ill-mannered of him to be as careless as he was, you couldn't stop yourself from being attracted to him. He might've had a good twenty years on you, but that didn't matter in this case. 

The man was in phenomenal shape for his age; You had come home one day to him working on his bike, shirtless. His physique was composed of thick broad shoulders that counterbalanced his narrow waist and muscular biceps that bulged beneath his skin, flowing seamlessly into veiny forearms. Dark curls of hair stretched downwards from his brawny chest, over his chiselled abs and disappeared into the denim waistband of his wranglers. 

To pair with that irresistible body, was a charmingly rugged face. Thick, untamed eyebrows cast a shadow over his piercing hazel eyes, while dense sideburns traced the sharp angles of his jawline. His short, spiked hair flared into two distinct tufts on either side of his head, adding to his wild, primal look.

"-Logan! I'm coming!" The voice screamed. Since this all began, you found yourself feeling rather bitter. Not only was it rude and annoying but from what you managed to pick up, most nights they would be playing out the very type of fantasies you'd always had but never got the chance to experience.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling that excitement slowly pool in your lower stomach. You knew this would end soon, Logan seemed to have quite the routine, so your impending neediness wouldn't go any farther. 

His partners were usually dead silent for the rest of the night, presumably busy sleeping off the intense sex, which made the inconvenience somewhat tolerable. The only time they would potentially disturb you again was as they made their exit down the stairs the morning after. You could catch glimpses of them as they passed in front of your kitchen window, usually around the time you'd be having your coffee. 

From the looks of it, he had a type: girls your age. They'd always be dressed in last night's skimpy outfit, with knotted hair, but somehow still looked gorgeous. As they stumble their way to the taxi at the edge of the driveway. You'd observe them closer pressing up the glass, often spiking your jealousy.  

The first few you had laid eyes on made you snicker a jaded"How original."  But you were well used to it by now. 

Logan was your typical walking mid-life crisis; Bringing home adventurous young women, fucking their brains out, sending them away in a yellow chariot and never talking to them again. From the frequency of these one-night stands it looked as if he was trying to satisfy a hunger he couldn't seem to fulfill. Almost like preparing for hibernation.

 He was living the bachelor life that men his age could only dream of having, but there was something about the whole routine that felt...off. It was as if every conquest left him more empty, more distant and detached from everything and everyone around him. It wasn't just women that Logan indulged in, he was also a heavy drinker. You could tell by the recycling bin, always overflowing with liquor bottles, and the fact that the few times you'd been to The Black Lodge—the only bar in small-town Burns, Alaska—you had seen him there

You watched from your bar stool, careful to remain unnoticed. The brief exchanges between him and the bartender made it clear he was a regular—no need for small talk, just an easy, practiced silence. Logan's eyes, however, never lingered on the glass of neat whiskey in front of him. Instead, his gaze swept over the crowd, scanning for his next target, his posture relaxed but predatory. Despite his intimidating exterior, there was something magnetic about the way he worked the room, luring them in with lustful glances. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was built to win.

His trophy shelf was overflowing, yet there was no trace of happiness in Logan’s eyes.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was the Logan everyone else saw—rough around the edges, careless, chewing through women and booze as if they were nothing more than fleeting distractions. Or was there something deeper, a hidden tenderness that only emerged behind closed doors? He never had family or friends over, just a revolving door of women. His life seemed lonely, private, and it made you wonder what demons gnawed at him when the nights grew quiet and the distractions faded away.

Was it trauma? 

Regret?

Or just the inevitable realization that his time was running out?

A part of you cared and wanted to be there for him, but it wasn't as simple as ringing his doorbell, he was unapproachable. During the few interactions you shared, he made it unmistakably clear that he had no interest in forming any kind of relationship with you. His responses were dry and curt, laced with a dismissive tone that cut down any hope of connection. Each word felt like a brick wall being built between you. He practically didn't look at you the entire time, keeping his eyes focused everywhere else but on yours. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with every exchange, it was as if he was purposefully keeping you at arm's length.

Through your confusion, you understood why. You weren't what he was interested in, you couldn't contribute to his unfaltering hunger. You were more than happy to not be categorized with what he'd bring home from the bar, but a slight part of you wished that for one night, you would be. 

The selections were slim in Burns and you were newer to the area, which made it impossible to call for a late-night booty call, unlike him. It had been a long time since you'd last been with someone and the constant exposure to Logan's fruitful sex life made you grow needier by the day, which is where your obsession initially formed.

It began with something small, almost too innocent to notice. You found yourself paying closer attention to his everyday routine, drawn by curiosity. You’d glance out the window to check if his motorcycle was parked in the yard, and when you heard the faint sound of his footsteps starting the day, you’d instinctively check the clock taking mental notes of his wake-up times.

Before you knew it, your interest had evolved into something deeper, something far more personal. You began noticing his trash in your shared waste bin; discarded remnants of his life blending into your obsession. At the liquor store, you found yourself buying the same brand of beer he preferred, curious to experience the taste that would linger on his lips if you kissed him. At the supermarket, you began to choose the same detergent, not for practical reasons, but to breathe in the scent that clung to his skin.

There was a day that he left his Johnny Cash shirt outside. He tossed it on the ground carelessly after working up a sweat while fixing something in the yard. When he left, you ran out and took it. As your compulsion grew, so did your need for closeness to him. The shirt became more than just a relic of him—it was a trigger. 

You began wearing it late at night, feeling its used fabric against your skin. While the sounds of him having sex filtered through the thin walls. The rhythmic creaking of his bed upstairs, the faint moans, you’d inhale it deeply, lost in his scent. You'd thrust your fingers deep inside of you, following along with his rhythm, imagining it was him inside you—picturing how Logan would take control, filling you with the intensity you longed for. In those moments, it was as if he belonged to you, even if just in fantasy.

Your cheeks flushed red as you listened along, It was become too much to handle. You unmuted your episode and got up, needing to find some distraction. 

"It’s almost over," you told yourself, trying to ignore the urge to grab his shirt and take care of things right then and there. Instead, you walked over to the unpacked boxes in the corner of your living room, hoping to find a distraction.

As you opened the cardboard, you started sifting through the mismatched stuff crammed inside. Your fingers brushed against something soft and bristly, sparking your curiosity. You tightened your grip and pulled it out for a better look. To your surprise, it was an old wig from a Halloween costume—vivid and wild, a memory you had almost forgotten.

The faint sounds you were trying so hard to ignore managed to slip through anyway, sparking a devilish idea as you twirled the wig in your hands. You were going to get his attention, whether he liked it or not. A mischievous grin spread across your face; this could be your way in. It was time to shake things up and show him a side of you he hadn’t seen yet. 

It was the next day, and you knew for sure that Logan would be at that bar, just like he was every Thursday. You stepped inside, adjusting the wig discreetly, tucking away any hint of your natural colour, determined to become someone new for the night. This was a wild idea, but desperate times called for bold measures. You were dying for some relief and he was the only remedy for this ache you couldn’t shake.

The bar buzzed with energy, a lively crowd which meant you had competition. But tonight, you were set on one thing: going home with him, and anyone else.

You’d dressed the part—skin exposed, tight-fitting clothes that hugged your curves just right, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. 

You scanned the bar, your heart racing as you spotted him in his usual seat. The moment you walked in, his eyes locked onto you, holding your attention captive. You averted your gaze and took a shaky breath, your feet guiding you across the room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Pretending not to notice his gaze, you played coy, an enticing smile dancing on your lips. You slid into the seat across from him and reached for the black menu that lay before you, feigning interest in the options. Your eyes traced the words, but your mind was elsewhere—focused on the weight of his stare and the electric tension building between you.

The bartender approached, and you quickly ordered the first thing your eyes landed on, feeling a rush of nerves. You folded the menu neatly, deliberately turning your attention to the crowd, avoiding his gaze, you weren't playing his game, you were playing yours. The thrill of the chase sent a shiver down your spine. The bar chattered around you, laughter and conversation creating a lively backdrop as you focused on maintaining an air of nonchalance, even as you could feel his eyes on you, studying you with that intensity.

A beautiful stemmed glass slid in front of you, snapping your attention to your hands. You mumbled a thankyou and you took a sip, savouring the sweet burn as it slid down your throat. It gave you a moment to gather your thoughts. Just as you were about to steal a glance his way, you noticed from your peripheral that he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. That confident look told you he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Nice wig," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the bar like a knife. The compliment sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you kept your expression cool, shooting him a sidelong glance as if you were just as unfazed by him.

“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a casual tone. “Just thought I’d switch things up a bit.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. The game was on, and you were ready to play.

Logan leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It suits you, it's different.”

You felt a thrill at his words, the compliment warming you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You kept your composure, but inside, your heart raced. “I like keeping things interesting,” you replied, matching his playful tone.

The atmosphere around you shifted slightly, the crowd fading into the background as you locked eyes again. The moment felt charged, filled with unspoken possibilities. You could sense the magnetic pull between you intensifying, and it was exhilarating.

He took a sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact. “Well, you're doing a good job of doing that."

You smiled, feeling a rush of confidence. “It's just a little bit of fun for a Thursday night. What about you? Same old routine, I bet?”

His smirk widened a glint of challenge in his eyes. “You could say that. But maybe I’m looking for something different tonight.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. You leaned forward, pushing your breasts together. “Well, that's hard to imagine. What’s your idea of different?”

 Logan’s eyes dropped to your cleavage. “How about we take this conversation somewhere a little more private?” His voice was low, rich with promise, and it sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning casualness even as your heart raced. "And where would that be?”

He chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “How about the upstairs at your place?”

The two of you made your way up the narrow staircase, the familiar creak of the wooden steps echoed in the silence. You could feel the heat radiating off him, each step heightening the anticipation of what was to come. You both reached his door, and his keys jingled as he unlocked it.

The door swung open, and you stepped inside as he held the door open for you. The soft light from his living room illuminated the space, casting warm shadows that danced along the walls. The place was surprisingly tidy, with the scent of cedar and booze lingering in the air.

Logan followed you in, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click that sent a thrill down your spine. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You didn't know what you expected but it wasn't this. You took in the details of his space—artwork hung at odd angles, a well-worn couch sat invitingly in the center, and an empty whiskey glass perched on the coffee table. It was comfortable, lived-in, and spoke to the kind of man he was.

“Nice place,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your pulse quickened as you caught the intensity of his gaze. A beat passed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, a hint of seriousness threading through his playful tone.

Your heart raced at the implication of his question. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you replied biting your lip,  voice steady from a boldness surging through you.

Logan smirked, his expression shifting from playful to something more primal and dark. 

“Good. Because I don’t plan on holding back. Gotta teach you a lesson after all,”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, backing you against the wall with a firm press of his body. The warmth of him enveloped you, and you felt your breath hitch as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. As he grabbed your face, his calloused fingers dug into your cheeks roughly, parting your lips open.

“I know you took my shirt, you fucking freak,” he murmured, his voice thick and husky.

You were unable to form words as you felt the threat of what was to come flood your senses. Your heartbeat stammered in your rib cage, fear overcoming you but there was a thrilling undercurrent of excitement that was hard to ignore. Logan’s intense gaze held you captive, and the edge in his voice sent the tension crackling in the air between you.

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” he continued, a low chuckle escaping his lips, laced with a hint of danger. “A man owns about three good shirts and is bound to notice when one goes missing.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making your breath hitch again, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve been watching me,” he stated, his voice dropping even lower. “Spying on me like some lovesick teenager. It’s cute, but it’s also… a little sick.” The intensity in his gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something deeper behind his fierce exterior.

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat. “I—”

“Save it,” he interrupted, his grip tightening around your jaw just enough to keep your attention focused on him. “Don't give me excuses. Tell me why.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. What could you possibly say that would explain the tangled web of emotions and desires that had led you here? His proximity was intoxicating, and the conflict between fear and yearning made your head spin.

“I... I just wanted to understand you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hear you with the women you bring home... and I want that. ”

Logan's smile grows somehow even darker. "So ya' got all dressed up for me because you want me to fuck you like I do with the others? That right, sweetheart?" 

The only thing you could do at this moment was give him an eager nod, the ache between your legs growing shamefully larger by the second. 

“I’ll give you what you want kid', but you need to know something first.” He paused slightly, the air between you thick with tension. 

“I’m the best at what I do, and I don’t do it very nicely.”

cliff hanger I know, but i'm such a slut for teasing.

🏷️: @back2thebasics , @spookyfunhottub, @lanassmarty, @hypermarvellove, @kbear8863

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[guiltyasreid]

you threaten to sue spencer reid. l spencer reid x reader

warnings/tags: non, fluff, suggestive ending? gn!reader, college!spencer reid, and they were roommates word count : 957 a/n: this is the first time I'm posting one of my fics so ahhhhhhh, I got this idea from where a fan shouted at min yoongi "I will sue you" plus I'm trying to procrastinate applying for my masters in law. lmk what you think

It was a typical Tuesday night, you laid on the floor, stomach down, left hand scrawling your notes into your notebook, three textbooks open at different pages. The only sound heard in the room was your breathing, his breathing and both of you writing notes. In your mind it was a game to see who would take a break first, you didn't know if Spencer even knew of the competition, you'd never let him know.

This time, it was you. You moved from your position on the floor to sit on your bed, leaving your things sprawled on the floor. You let out a little grunt as you laid down on your side to watch Spencer as he worked.

His hair had gotten longer, and lighter. Most of it was pushed back behind his ears, there was a strand hanging out, everytime he'd push it behind his ear, it would make its way back out. His tongue was between his teeth, the habit he had started recently. He blinked less often when he was reading. He was hunched over with his legs crossed as he wrote in a position that his back would definitely not thank him for.

Your eyes graced down his figure, his collar bones were exposed as he unbuttoned, his top 2 buttons every time he came back to the dorm. His sleeves were rolled up, leaving his veiny forearms exposed to you. His hand was moving down a book with his middle two fingers.

You looked away from him and groaned. "I hate you."

He let out a laugh. You had your hands over your face. "What did I do?"

"Why do you look like that? You're studying and you look like that." You spoke muffled by your hands. You could hear him snicker from across the room. "It's awful."

"What are you trying to say?" He asked, you moved your hands to look at him again with a scowl. His eyes were large and innocent. Your eyes glanced down at his arms and hands to where he had stopped reading.

"I don't like you. You are a crime against me." You huffed looking away again.

There was shuffling and you watched him move across the room and sit next to you on your bed. "What have I done now?"

Your face was flushed and you were not going to look him in the eyes. Instead you turned away from him, which made him stop you and turn you back. His head tilted over you. "You're so pretty." You muttered holding up your hands to brush that stupid strand of hair away from his face.

He turned red at the compliment. Looking away from you. "Stop." He was about to stand up, you stopped him from moving, pulling him back to sit down next to you.

"You are very handsome and I hate it, you're sat there, with your sleeves rolled up, it's a crime. Keep your hands and arms to yourself." You glared at him which turned him more red. He started letting out an awkward laugh which made you groan. "Even that was attractive. I hate it."

"I think you're mistaking me-."

"Don't even try to deny it, Spencer Reid. You are a crime against me, for being this good-looking. I'll sue you, I'm studying law, you know?" He raised an eyebrow at you as you hmphed.

"I don't think that'd hold up in court." He replied, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"I'll make it hold up in court. Distracting me, damages to my livelihood." His face became more amused. "I could show a picture of you to the jury and they'd agree."

"You're hilarious." He rolled his eyes at you.

"I'm not joking." You spoke with the most serious voice you could muster. "I will sue you for being handsome."

"What can I do for you to not sue me?" He asked rasing an eyebrow.

"Nothing." You crossed your arms looking away from him. "Wait for the papers to be served."

He laughed, tilting your head back towards him, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Is that enough?" He asked with a innocent voice. You shook your head. He then kissed both of your cheeks. His own face was turning red just as yours. You shook your head again.

He kissed the side of your lips. "What about now?" He asked, you pouted at him, shaking your head again.

He leaned down again this time, hovering right above your lips. Taking a moment before pressing down. His lips pressed against yours and its as if your mind short-circuited. Everything in the room faded away. All you could think about was him.

His lips lightly chapped from grazing his tongue over them all day, they were soft and warm. You both hummed into the kiss, as if it was the breath of air you'd needed all day. You leaned up trying to deepen the kiss, only for him to move away causing you to let out a whine.

He was smirking looking down at you, foreheads pressed together. "You still gonna sue me?" He asked breathily.

"No." You muttered back, you eyes traveling from his eyes to his lips. As you moved forward he moved back until you were sat up with him.

"Promise?" He asked kissing the side of you mouth.

"Promise…" You hummed as he leaned back in. You pulled away quickly, narrowing your eyes. "For now." You quickly pressed your lips to his before he could restore, causing him to chuckle into the kiss. You both fell back onto your bed with you this time on top of him.

[soleilapproves]

Imagine being on a business trip with coworker!Nanami and he surprises you with the fact that he can dance (ITS A GOOD CONCEPT I SWEAR)

Also, I don’t drink so I don’t know much info on ordering drinks at a restaurant </3

Masterlist

-•-

Nanami has always been the only coworker you could tolerate. You both had immediately gotten along on your first day and had been friends ever since. You liked him because he was the most competent man in your department. He liked you because you did your work well and occasionally baked homemade focaccia for him.

You could say that the two of you were very good friends (since Gojo from Accounting said that he was Nanami’s self proclaimed best friend first).

Which is why you thanked the stars when you found out that he’d be the only one who’d be going on the annual business trip with you. He was the perfect travel partner, he offered to bump you up to a first class seat with him using HIS miles (because he couldn’t besr being separated from you since your old seat was all the way back in business class). He didn’t even drink the entire flight because he believed that it was unprofessional on a business trip.

Did I also mention that he offered to pay for your inflight WiFi? Swoon.

The week long business trip went great! Your clients were very happy with the presentations that the two of you did together and called you a great team! (Take that Gojo from Accounting). To celebrate your last night, the two of you went to a restaurant / dance bar. The dance floor wasn’t packed but it was crowded with people who were drinking and having a good time. The two of you watched all the couples dancing and you couldn’t help but feel a little woeful.

Nanami noticed how you wouldn’t stop staring at all the couples in the restaurant / bar. “I know what you’re thinking.” He said with a small smile. “What?” You mimic his smile, feeling a deer caught in headlights. “You wanna dance, don’t you?”

You can’t believe him. “What? No! I just, I don’t know. I feel like this is the kind of place couples come to. It would be nice to be here with a date instead of my coworker-slash-friend. No offense.” You confessed. But to be fair, this particular part of the night didn’t feel like a business trip. It felt like two friends hanging out. “None taken.” He put his hands up in defense. “Since you’re so down-” he looked away from you mid sentence and rose his hand. “Can we get some shots here!”

You were surprised at his sudden change of mind. “I thought you didn’t drink on business trips.” He simply shrugged and downed one shot as soon as the waiter arrived. “And we have an early flight in the morning.” You continued as he downed another. “You only live once.” He said as he winked. “Plus, we’re done with all the work. The business part of this trip is over.” Did the alcohol get to him already?

You could see him starting to get agitated with the way his head slowly bobbed to the Spanish music playing through the speakers. You never realized how attractive Nanami could be when he let go of himself. His blond hair was all disheveled, his tie barely hanging on to his neck with the way he had pulled it loose, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows giving you a delicious view of his veiny forearms. You hate to admit it but your friend was HOT.

He suddenly got up while continuing to bob his head, but this time, there was some extra movement in his shoulders. “Where are you going?” He didn’t reply but made a gesture where he used his fingers to say ‘keep your eyes on me.’

He started moving to the upbeat Spanish song, matching the sound of the guitar. “You know salsa?” You exclaimed, still sitting. He nodded as he asked you to come closer with his pointer finger. You felt like you were entranced, so you took a shot and walked to him.

He instantly took the lead by grabbing you by your waist and turning you around so that you were sinfully pressed against him. He had a strong grip on your hips so that you both could move simultaneously to the music. This was way more intimate than grinding at some random dude in a club.

He spun you around and held you quite firmly for a tipsy person so that you wouldn’t fall. When he dipped you, you could feel his warm breath against your neck as he leaned in. At this point, the two of you were stealing the show so all the locals moved out and started cheering the two of you.

He ended the dance with lifting you and spinning you around. You held on as tightly as you could since the alcohol was making you feel light headed. Once the music stopped, the crowd started clapping at your little show and you both couldn’t stop laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. Nanami suddenly stopped laughing and kept glancing at your lips. He wanted to kiss them but he knew better than to do it in front of an audience.

“You wanna get out of here?” He breathed out.

-•-

Idk how to write smut (for now).

[honeyedmiller]

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 

-

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 

“I need you, Joel, please.” 

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 

Fuck the consequences. 

None of it fucking mattered. 

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself. 

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 

Joel knew better. 

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 

 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 

He fucking lost the game. 

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 

He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate. 

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

[luciopioid]

main guitarist!ryujin showing her shameless groupie girlfriend that playing the guitar isn’t the only thing her fingers are good at 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ryujin x f!reader

guitarist ryujin. public sex (kinda) (do not recommend). fingering. dry humping a lil. ryujin is a sweetheart.

note: THX FOR REQUESTING AHHHH. hopefully you enjoy, anon. sorry this took me so long too LMAOOO

-

You remember it like it was yesterday. Probably quite literally because it was yesterday.

As you and your friend entered the venue, you remembered how she told you that she knew the drummer and got a couple tickets for free. You ducked away to the bar while she trickled to the front to find a good spot. Walking towards the bar, you bump into someone, their ice cold drink spilling on your chest making you yelp in response. You look up at them, in unexpected shock, “Dude, what the hell?” You sigh, shaking the ice out of your shirt.

“You bumped into me.” The person says, matter of factly. You look at them to get a good look, greeted with deep brown eyes on the most gorgeous woman you’ve probably ever seen. Unfortunately her being hot didn’t take the red stain out of your shirt, but before you could complain any further she already walked away. You huff, grabbing napkins tv from the bar, forgetting the drink you initially had came for.

You walk back to where your friend is standing. Her eyes widen “What happened?” She asks. You roll your eyes, still making fruitless efforts to take the stain away. “Someone fucking spilled their drink on me,” You complain. “I just bought this shirt too.”

Before your friend can respond, she realizes the band trickling on stage and begins to cheer for them. You look up from your shirt, beginning to cheer too before immediately recognizing the guitarist.

“That’s her.” You say, leaning over to your friend.

“Who?” She asks.

“The one who bumped into me!”

“Holy shit. Ryujin?” She asks surprisingly.

You sigh. Of course she knew who she was.

“And she didn’t say sorry?” Your friend asks, rhetorically. “Huh. She’s usually super sweet.”

You just inhale in annoyance, not particularly caring anymore. You remember repeating her name to yourself in your head.

Ryujin.

During the entire set, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. You were almost certain she caught you staring a few times. You eyed the way she shook her head up and down, her shaggy hair getting in her face and sticking to her with sweat. You eyed the muscles in her biceps and forearms. The way they pulsed when she’d hit a certain chord. Particularly, you couldn’t help but notice her veiny hands. The speed at which her fingers moved every time she played a riff. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think she was blatantly attractive.

Ryujin.

At the end of the show, the band says their thanks and walks off stage, everyone else in the venue walking out as well. You weren’t sure why you and your friend stuck around until a shorter girl in all black holding drumsticks came up to the two of you.

“Jisu! It’s so good to see you!” Your friend exclaimed as she hugged what you assumed was the drummer friend she told you about. They catch up briefly after your friend introduces you to her. You don’t know how she met her or how she knows the band, but for a very fleeting second you thought about asking if they could introduce you to the guitarist too. Just for fun.

“You guys should come around back! We might get drinks later.” Jisu exclaims. You and your friend nod, following the drummer backstage.

You stand off to the side when your friend sees the band, but in a quick glimpse you see the guitarist in a corner. She’s wiping her guitar down and putting it back in the case. She catches your gaze and you immediately avert your eyes, turning your head.

“Hey.” She says getting up. She points, “It’s you!” She’s standing directly in front of you now, smiling.

“And it’s you who messed up an extremely cute top and walked away.”

“You didn’t hear me.” She says, realization in her voice. You shoot her a puzzled look.

“What are you talking about?”

She smiles and you feel a butterfly or two. Maybe three.

“I told you to hold on! I went to grab a shirt for you but you already walked away.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“Well you still–”

“Ruined an extremely cute top. Yes I know.” She sighs.

You fake a pout. She walks away for a split second and returns with a t-shirt. She holds it out with a smirk.

“It’s not as cute, but…” She trails off.

You hold it up in front of you, “No, this is sick.” You say in awe. The shirt had a drawing on the front of with the band’s name plastered on it.

“You think so?” The guitarist gasps. “I designed it! This was the first time we did tour shirts and I wanted it to be special.” She says, heartfully.

“No, I really like it. Thanks.” You say, genuinely.

The stain will probably come out in the wash anyway.

Having yet to stop smiling, she holds out her hand. “I’m Ryujin by the way.” You nod your head. Contemplating for a split second telling her if you knew that already. You decided to just tell her yours instead.

“Look uh… I think our drummer— Jisu was talking about going out later. Are you coming?” Ryujin asks. You didn’t want to lie, but an evening around your friend’s friends seemed like it would suck the life out of you– even if they did seem cool as hell.

“I see your face so I’m gonna take that as a no.” She giggles. “I planned on staying for the next band while they went out. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

You groan internally, not wanting to turn this gorgeous… beautiful woman down, but not really wanting to stay here either.

“And stand for another hour?” You joke, hoping to let her down easy. Ryujin persists.

“There’s a room upstairs.” She retorts, nonchalantly.

Before you can even refute, she's pulling you gently by the arm, “Come on. It’ll be fun. Their musics so good.” Ryujin pulls you towards your friend and the rest of the band.

You felt like a bit of a groupie, but the band didn’t shoot any knowing looks your direction when she told them she was staying behind with her “new friend” tonight. Your friend, however, smirks at you. You choose to ignore it, but also hoping it means something. Something. Anything.

They make their way out, going opposite of the way you were following Ryujin. Pass the bar, there’s stairs which to your dismay, had no clue about. She leads you to a room that looks down on almost the entire venue, you join her on the couch.

“How long have you been playing the guitar?” You ask. Out of nervousness, but genuine curiosity simultaneously.

She chuckles, probably reading your body language to a T. “Ouu. About ten years now I think.” Ryujin says, looking off to nowhere. You nod in impressment, “Yeah. I first picked it up in middle school!” She recalls.

You don’t know how much small talk you have left in you, but you remind yourself that you just met this girl and cannot throw yourself at her yet. Unfortunately.

“Why you sitting so far away, girl?” She smirks.

You fold your arms. “Don’t know if I trust you with that drink again yet.” You joke and she lets out a genuine laugh. You definitely felt more than a couple butterflies. Maybe in more place than one. She scoots closer to you, keeping a slightly respective distance but still draping her arm over the piece of couch that you're leaning against.

“Anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you are?” Ryujin asks and you roll your eyes involuntarily. She’s lucky she’s hot. You thought.

“You tell that to all the girls you get alone up here?” You retort. She scoots closer to you.

“Just the pretty ones.”

You scoff and she lets out another laugh. “I’m joking!” She says through a chuckle.

“I’ll have you know this is my first time here as well.” Ryujin adds.

Her leg brushes against yours and you felt your face and neck go hot. You can feel her eyes on you, studying your face intently.

“I meant it y’know,” She whispers, her voice coating the shell of your ear. “You’re beautiful.”

The feeling of her breath in your ear made your entire body shiver in reaction, your shameless arousal growing exponentially. You turn to face her, your face inches from hers. “Likewise.” You say, truly meaning it.

There’s a few moments of silence, Ryujin’s face so close to yours, her eyes lidded and visible even in the dim room. You decide to rip off the bandaid.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, voice low and wanting. She smiles, nodding her head as she presses her lips against yours smoothly.

Her lips are soft like you imagined. Plump and sweet with a hint of liquor, her mouth slightly cold from the ice. For a while it’s a tangle of lips together, wet velvety tongues brushing against each other with light gasps from the both of you. Ryujin licks into your mouth confidently, her hand wrapping around your throat as you moan in response.

She pulls back momentarily, her chest heaving and her forehead resting against yours. “Can I tell you something?” She smirks, her breath warm on your lips, just centimeters away. You nod.

“Jisu showed me a pic of you and your friend a couple days ago,” Ryujin whispers, “I thought you were so fine.” She places a light feathery kiss to your lips, one hand still on your throat and the other on your thigh. “Had to have you.”

You wanted nothing more than to sit on her face right now, but alas.

She grips both of your hips and the feeling sends shivers through the rest of your body. She pulls you gently by the hips, signaling for you to sit on her lap as she spreads her legs, all in one swift movement. You sit with your back against her chest, her hand trailing up and down your thigh.

“You okay with this?” Ryujin asks, her hands coming off of you briefly.

“God, yes.”

You have never been more okay with anything ever.

She bunches up your skirt so that your lower half is accessible. She rubs at your inner thigh, entirely too close to your core, making you whine and grind against her mindlessly. Ryujin decides to bring her other hand up to your chest, kneading your tit through your shirt. You moan incessantly as she finally slips her hand into your panties.

You lean, falling limp against her warm chest. Her long middle fingers drag from your entrance to your clit, slugging your wetness as she gasps softly. “So wet.” She murmurs.

You cover your mouth to stifle a moan and she almost immediately reaches up and gently moves your hand away.

“We’re all alone, baby.” She whispers, “I want to hear you.”

With her two slicked middle fingers, she presses gently against your entrance slowly to make sure that you were ready first. Your breath gets caught as she inserts her fingers into you, smooth and slick. You clench around Ryujin’s fingers involuntarily, but that feeling too made you mew out loud.

Her free hand goes to hold your hip in place against her, the contact making you grind against her, giving her the signal to move her fingers. She pushes them in and out of you slowly as she kisses your neck from behind, you tilt your head to give her more access. “You’re such a good girl.” She whispers, low, only for you to hear. You whimper as you rut against her.

You feel her fingers pull apart slightly, stretching you out more. She pumps you deeper now, doing anything to get you to make those sweet noises again. “F-fuck Ryujin…” You whisper. She smiles against your neck as she mindlessly picks up the pace.

“You sound so pretty when you say my name.” She mumbles against your skin, the contact from your ass grinding against her making her breathless too. You probably weren’t going to last long, being extremely on edge given that you’ve been resisting throwing yourself at her all night and because it’s been weeks since you’ve got some. You weren’t entirely sure if you were imagining this or not.

Ryujin fucks her fingers into you a little more firmly now, still keeping her pace. Her fingers curving a little once she reaches the base of her palm. You definitely weren’t going to last long like this. You felt your stomach tighten and your walls clench again. The only sounds apparent to you being the muffled music from outside the room, Ryujin’s light pants and the squelching from her fucking you. It was all too much, but so, so good. She bites down on your neck when she felt your walls squeeze her, “You close, baby?” She breathes. You manage to let out a strained “Mmhm.” Not nearly being able to form a coherent word right now.

She bucks her hips into you as she speeds her fingers up slightly, still curving them into you however. Your head falls back against her shoulder and you could hear her gasps so clearly in your ear. It only turns you on more. With a final pump into your pussy, you’re clenching her fingers with a death grip and whimpering like you were in heat. You squirm under her touch as you moan out entirely too loud. Ryujin’s hand never left your hip, her grip just tightening as she fucked you. You knew there’d probably be a mark there later, but the thought just made you more excited.

You catch your breath as she slowly pulls her fingers out of you. She grabs your hips and moves you up so she can move from under you. She helps fixes your shirt, “Are you okay?” She asks, gently. You nod in response, letting out a breathy yes.

“Can I return the favor?” You ask, moving your hands to her thighs. She catches your hands, holding them.

“No need.” Ryujin says, her eyes never leaving yours. “I uh… came already.” You blink. You’d be lying if you said that too didn’t turn you on.

“It’s been a while.” She said bashfully. You smile involuntarily.

“Shit. Me too.” You both let out a chuckle as the two of you fix yourselves up.

You sit in comfortable silence as the band finishes their set, her arm around you as you lean against her comfortably.

Once the set is over and people begin to pour out, she turns to look at you. “Give me your phone.” She says and you reach over and grab it from the table next to the couch, unlocking it. She goes to your contacts and puts in a number. She hands the phone back to you and you see her number with the name ryu:) attached to it. You save it immediately.

“I have to get going,” She starts, her tone unfortunate. “If you call or text me sometime, though… I’d love to see you again, yeah?” She says, bending down to kiss your cheek softly as she grabs her jacket.

You look up at her, a smile on your face.

“Yeah. I’d like that…”

[gremlingottoosilly]

König Strong veiny arms? Yes please.

I myself have a very weird addiction with veiny arms, men or women I find it so attractive, Imagine Mrs. König just admiring his strong forearms and hands and gently tracing her nails along his defined veins.

yep. brain rot😍

Hand kink!! I always write about Konig being absolutely obsessed and horny for reader, but the reader is down bad for him and his hands...yes, please! You beg Konig to finger you just so you can look at his hands and admire it, and every time you lick every little drop away with your tongue, and it drives Konig crazy. He never thought he'd be even more attracted to you, but seeing the admiration in your eyes when you look at his strong, veiny arms...you are tracing your tongue down the blue lines and the man is blushing like a virgin on the wedding bed. You lick his fingers and he is far more willing to become even cockier - he flexes his muscles around him, wears more t-shirts and even a freaking wife beater because you just want to see his arms more and more. Mrs.Konig makes him blush and embarrassed because he never knew you'd like him so much...even in the kidnapped and forceful scenario, you are calming down when he hugs you or just holds you in his arms.

[seeingivy]

ticklish 

levi ackerman x f!reader

you hate having levi as a lab partner. 

content warning: kinda suggestive (?), you and levi are touching each other, bi reader and bi levi cuz I said so, tickles, and what not 

an: based on a very real guy I had a crush on during my nursing assistant classes 

- 

“You’re my partner.” 

You look up from your notebook to find a set of gray eyes staring at you. Ones you know all too well. He’s out of his usual long sleeves today, his veiny forearms on display in his black scrubs, his name embroidered on the pocket. Levi Ackerman. 

“Right. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Levi.” 

He slides into the seat next to you, flipping through the slides that were assigned. You try to settle the pounding in your chest as you open up the pages, reading over the exams you were learning today. 

On any given occasion, you wouldn’t mind being Levi’s lab partner. You’d live for it. You had your eye on him for a while, first drawn to him after you saw him at the coffee shop during the first week of school. He had a black sweater on, his hair messy and a set of glasses perched on his nose. 

You’re not superficial. Of course, you’re not. You know that other qualities - kindness, compassion, tenderness - are more important in a partner. But there’s just something about him and how attractive he is, with his sleeked out features, his toned arms - you can’t help but have a crush on him. 

“Which test did you want to start with?” 

“We can try the musculoskeletal, if you’ve read that far.” 

You nod, as you follow him into the back corner, closing the curtain behind you and cursing the gods for assigning Levi to be your partner in this class out of all of them. Introduction to Clinical and Community Medicine. Sounds good, in theory. You learn the basics of patient care - how to take history, vital signs, and do a patient exam. 

That’s the problem. Doing a patient exam. Because with Levi as your partner, that means that the two of you have to practice on each other, taking your clothes off to do most of the exams. 

He turns to the side, taking his coat off and setting it off to the side. You mimic his motions and he holds his hand out, beckoning you to hand him yours too. You give him a polite smile as you nervously push your hair behind your ears, reading through the exam on your laptop. Levi sneaks up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to read. You nearly jump at the sound of his breathing, flinching at the closeness. 

“Sorry. Left my laptop out there.”

“It’s okay.” 

“Do you want to split it up? I can do upper extremity and you can do the vertebral test.” 

You nod, sliding your scrub top and pants off as you sit on the table. You avoid making eye contact with Levi, suddenly embarrassed at the fact that you were sitting in here, alone with him, taking your clothes off. 

You feel him walk up, placing his hands on your shoulder. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You seem tense. Just, tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” 

You nod as Levi starts the exam, pressing his firm fingers around your arms. He holds your elbow gently, moving each of your limbs in their joints as he watches the movements. He’s intently focused, watching your hands as he moves. 

You take the moment to memorize his features, never getting to be this close to him in the first place. He has a dimple, only one on the left side. Four freckles on his nose. Long eyelashes. Pink lips. 

Levi pulls his fingers closer to your shoulders, which should have been your first sign of danger. You’re ticklish, horribly so. He puts pressure on your shoulder joint and you laugh out loud, squirming away from his touch.

“Sorry, Levi. I’m ticklish.” 

You see a small smile spread across his face, as he shakes his head, returning to pressing his fingers to your shoulder again. He’s softer this time, his touch featherlike. 

“Are you enjoying your first term, Y/N?” 

“Yeah. It’s been a little stressful but everyone’s been nice enough.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m friends with Hange and Moblit. We’re all in the same Pathology class, I think.” 

“Right. Moblit seems like a nice guy. Is he your type?” 

“What?” 

“In guys. Is he your type of guy? Unless you like girls?” 

“I like both. And no. Not exactly.” 

He switches to the other hand, switching sides to examine the other arm. 

“Wait. You didn’t finish the shoulder exam.” 

“I did it while we were talking. You’re less likely to feel ticklish if you’re distracted.” 

You feel your cheeks burn as Levi presses his fingers into your wrist, starting the exam all over again. You can feel the air getting warmer, your forehead burning as Levi continues to touch you, his words ringing through your minds. Is he trying to fluster you to distract you? His fingers pull up to your shoulder again and his voice throws you out of your thoughts. 

“You didn’t answer. What’s your type?” 

“Ah. Not sure.” 

“No pattern in previous people you’ve liked?” 

“Hm. I guess the quiet ones? All of the people I’ve liked were always a little bit more reserved, kept to themselves.” 

He nods, removing his hands from your shoulder as returns to the laptop, still perched on the desk. You hop off the table, walking over to where he was standing to read it over with him. 

“Fully functional arms, Y/N.” 

You give him a smile as he turns to the table, pulling the spare items out of his pocket. It’s his turn to take his pants off, wearing shorts under his scrub pants like you were. He pulls off his scrub top and you try your best not to full on ogle him. 

You get it now. Why he wears hoodies, jackets, and sweaters. Because he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s fucking ripped under there. 

You walk up behind him, placing your hands onto his shoulders as he tenses under the contact. 

“Sorry Levi. Tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” 

“Sure.” 

You take your index finger and run it down his spine, stopping for a few seconds at each vertebrae to feel for fluid. You feel Levi shiver as you move down each notch of his spine, trying to keep your touch as gentle as possible. 

“What’s your type? In girls? Unless you like boys?” 

“I like both.” 

You try your best to fight your smile as you move your hands from the bottom of his spine to the top of his shoulder blades, spreading your fingers against his biceps as you observe the movement. You’re lucky you have your back turned to him because the way you were staring at him was hardly appropriate. 

“Right. Your friend, she’s the one with the red hair. Petra. Is she your type?” 

“No. I like the smart girls. Stays behind in class, help their classmates out type.” 

You feel your cheeks burn as you move to the other side, taking in Levi’s words. You were the fucking class tutor. It’s literally your job to stay behind in class and help your classmates out. Surely that’s not what he meant. 

You pull back, removing your hands from Levi’s shoulders, as you return to the laptop. He joins you at your side, leaning over as you both read the slides. 

“Fully functional spine, Levi.” 

He gives you a smile as he heads back to the cubby, handing you your clothes and your coat. You both slip your clothes back on and wall down the hall, towards the library. In silence, your fingertips brushing against each other as you walk. You both stop at the front of the library, turning to the side to bid him goodbye. 

He reaches for your wrist and pulls it up, moving your fingers so your hand is open to the sky. You give him a questioning look, which he ignores, as he places a small sheet of white paper in your hands. He curls your fingers back, pressing the paper to your fingers, as he walks away without saying goodbye. 

You open the piece of paper to find his freakishly neat handwriting staring back at you. 

You’re very smart. 

Levi 

943-492-3282

- 

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: We all know about Dragon! Kirishima.... But what about Dragon Slayer! Kirishima? With that thought in mind, I present you with this:)

(Inspired by this from cookiecosplayers on tiktok)

(I have a confession... this was supposed to have smut, but it's just been sitting in my drafts for 4 months... since I can't find the flow to the nsfw, you guys get this unfinished and un-beta'd fic. Maybe I'll finish it some day🤷‍♀️😭)

Word Count: Good question

Summary- While sitting in a shady pub, you encounter a very intriguing stranger

Warnings: None

Age Rating: None

Dragon Slayer! Kirishima x Fem! Reader

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

You're sipping on a pint of stale mead when he slips into the booth across from you, interrupting your self-imposed pity party. The stranger glances around the pub, taking in the drunks and thugs with an unreadable expression before looking back to you.

"This isn't a place for pretty little things like yourself." His voice is gruffer than you'd assume from looking at him, though not unpleasant. In fact, the entirety of your sudden companion is more pleasant than you were getting used to seeing from your table.

His rogue leather armor -just a chest plate and cuffs, really-, and weaponry the only things pointing to his belonging. Armed with a claymore and various daggers, he certainly makes an imposing figure. From first glance, you'd say he's probably some type of mercenary. 'Murder for hire,' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

He's tall with bright red hair that's pulled off his face with a thick leather cord, broad shoulders and thick, veiny forearms. His face is deceptively soft, his right eye sporting a singular scar spanning from his eyebrow to the top of his cheekbone. His bright red eyes bore into you with an intensity that has the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge.

Any attraction you may have felt for him goes out the window at his choice of words, though. His condescending tone making you bristle in your seat.

Your eyebrows furrow as you glare at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, honey. You belong in a pretty little dress with pretty little flowers, not here with a bunch of lowlifes." He crosses his arms, and leans against the back of the booth, and regards you with a neutral expression. "Before you bite my head off: I'm just tryna look out for ya. You don't belong in a place like this, darlin'."

"And how do you know where I belong?" You snark, arms crossing as you continue to glare at the man in front of you.

"I just do..." He jabs a thumb at the rowdy patrons, "A little girl like you shouldn't be spending her time with these... creeps. This place is a cesspool of drunks, thugs, and low lives."

"If it's so bad, why are you here? Associating yourself with such bad people?"

A wolfish smile spreads across his face as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. The faint lighting casting his eyes in an almost scary light. "Considering I'm one of the King's big, bad dragon slayers, I'd say I fit in here quite well..."

He grabs your pint and drinks from it. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Hey- You know what? Never mind, keep it," You're quickly realizing that arguing with this strange man is a losing battle. The distraction of his drink-stealing makes it take you a second to process his words, "Wait- Dragon slayer?"

You eye him for a second, not quite believing him. He may look strong and have the weapons, but he doesn't quite fit how the stories describe the King's most hardened warriors. You have to say, he doesn't look like he could take on such beasts.

Not the massive, armored creatures you've been warned about since you were a kid, anyway. With skin tougher than diamond, teeth shaper than the best blacksmiths' steel and claws longer than your forearm. You've been told even the smallest ones stand above even the tallest of men.

"No offense but you don't look like a dragon slayer."

He quirks an eyebrow at you. "And how am I s'posed to look, sweetie?"

Your face heats at the veiled accusation. "I dunno... Bigger, nastier. I've heard the dragon slayers are all filthy brutes that even the king cannot convince to be more civilized."

He smirks, briefly looking you up and down before leaning against the booth again, arm thrown over it as he manspreads.

"So, you don't think I'm a big, nasty brute?" He teases.

Your back straightens as you prepare to squawk out a defense only to be cut off as he laughs. "Calm down, sweetheart. I'm just playin with ya." He takes another swing from the stolen mead.

The man sets his -your- pint down to unhook his chest plate and pull his jacket aside, revealing a multitude of burn marks and various other scars. "How this for a brute?"

Your eyes widen at the suddenly exposed skin, any disbelief at his claim squashed with a single look at his marred skin. A small gasp leaves your parted lips at the way the pink flesh and silvery scratches and bites make his torso look almost like stained glass. Definitely the scars you've been told stories about.

Before you can stop yourself, you're asking, "What happened there?" As you point to a fairly large burn scar on the left side of his chest.

"That... was from a Firefury. The fucker's fire blasted me square in the chest. Burned straight through my armor like it was kindling." A smug smirk appears as he finishes, "Still managed to take him down, though..."

Any annoyance you held from his snide nicknames and earlier behavior is thrown out the window at the prospect of hearing about the dragons that plague your kingdom from someone who has actually been up close and personal with them. You can deal with his insufferable pet names in favor of firsthand stories.

He fixes his jacket in favor of rolling his left sleeve up to reveal a patch of slightly raised flesh molted with reds and purples. "This one, as you can probably guess, was from a Blue Terror."

You shift to the edge of your seat to get a better look. The noise of the other pub goers fades as you listen to the stranger's story.

"What did it do?" You look at his face only to find him already looking at you, a small smile gracing his lips unlike his previous smug expressions. You look back to the scarred skin to avoid eye contact.

Wondering what the skin feels like after such an injury, you start to reach for his arm before stopping yourself. You may be interested in the stranger now, but you'll be damned if you make a fool of yourself like that.

Seeing your intrigue, he gestures at you that it's okay to touch his arm as he speaks. "She got a lucky hit in; turned my forearm into what felt like a block of ice."

Apart from a few dry, scaley patches along the edge of the mark, the skin feels surprisingly smooth if not a bit tight.

"It lost some feeling after that and if it gets hit too much, it feels like my arm is being flamed all over again."

Confusion floods you at his words, "I thought they didn't breath fire?"

The man's eyebrows knit together before he seems to realize something. "I forget villagers don't normally come into contact with the beasts... Blue Terror's spit flame just like most dragons, contrary to what the folklore says about them breathing ice. Their name comes from where they live and the frigid feel of their flames. They're still very much flames, though. Don't be mistaken."

"Really?" If that piece of folklore was wrong, you wonder how else the dragons are different from what you've been told.

"Ye-" A loud bang from across the tavern interrupts him. A quick look reveals one of the drunks at the bar had merely slipped out of his seat and hit the floor. Shaking your head in distain, you turn back to your new-found acquaintance.

He lightheartedly snorts as the patron climbs back into his barstool.

You hate to do it, but you have to admit, at least to yourself, that looking past his introduction, the man was actually interesting company; not the zealot you would expect from a place like this.

Looking back to you he asks, "I have one more big one if you're interested?"

"You're quite fond of your scars, aren't you?" You lightly chuckle, resigning to take your mead back. You chug a bit before placing it back on the table.

He chuckes as well, "Yeah, I guess you get that way when they're all you've got to remember everything you've fought for."

At your curious look, he continues. "They're a reminder of the dangers of my job and of just how close I came to death. How many times I've pulled through a tough spot."

"The nightmares are a whole other issue though," he jokes.

You tilt your head at the man, "That's... kind of a beautiful way of looking at them..."

"Hey, don't get all sweet on me, honey. I'm a big, mean, uncivilized dragon slayer; I'm not supposed to feel emotions, remember?" He laughs, waving down the bar maid to order another pint.

You can't help the laugh that makes it way up your throat.

"What~?" He sips his drink once she brings it, chuckling. "It's true!"

"I'm sure it is," you're not sure how this went from you being chastised to an actually pleasant conversation, but you can't say you're complaining. "You said you had another one to show me?"

"Right," he turns to the side, moving his hair to reveal a massive star-shaped scar reaching across his neck, just touching his jaw and creeping under the shoulder of his jacket. "This one was the nastiest: A massive Ivorywing managed to get behind my while I was fighting and bit a clean chunk of flesh from me. No reason I shoulda survived, but here I am~"

He spreads his arm wide as he flashes another sharp smile your way.

You return it with a small shake of your head. "The rewards must be worth it, no? Along with the fame, that is?"

"I guess," he muses.

"The reward is nice - the recognition, though? That's the worst part," he continues. "The way I'm treated like some sort of hero or something. I'm no hero, doll. I'm just a guy doing my job; I don't need no damn fame..."

You furrow your brows at him. "What do you mean? Dragon slayers have saved hundreds of civilians - noble and peasant alike - I think that makes you well deserving of the 'hero' title."

The man in front of you has fallen some of the biggest beasts on this earth - has the scars to prove it - and doesn't think he is any sort of heroic? Insanity.

"I know it probably sounds dumb, but I stand by it..." He finishes his mead, chugging the rest of it in one go. "You know who doesn't get called heroes? The blacksmiths that make my weapons, the armorers who design my armor, the doctors who patch me up... They're the ones who should be called the heroes."

"That's very..." You struggle to find the words, "humble of you to say..."

He shrugs, "It's just my opinion. I don't deserve that title just because I have the shiny scars and cool stories."

There's a brief pause as you process what he says and he takes a breath to steady himself from the rant.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"What?"

"What you're doing in a place like this? I've talked enough about me, I wanna hear about you."

[aaron-m-geist-ff]

Back again cause I cannot get enough of Mahito. I've got Mahito brain rot but asking this time for both W and X just Mahi this time though he's so baby girl. 💖😩🩷🥰😘

I’m happy that you’re back! I love receiving requests 😄🩷 and yesss Mahi is so bbg

_______________________________________________

W - Wild card (random headcanon)

Mahito doesn’t like it when you’re frightened. That’s something that he really doesn’t understand no matter how hard he tries to.

As a cursed spirit born from human hatred and fear, Mahito loves to terrorize humans. He finds genuine delight in their screams of terror or anger. It fuels him.

But with you…?

He doesn’t want to hurt you.

He wants to keep you safe and content. Mahito feels the best when your energy is at peace. It is likely due to the curse bond, and it has definitely turned you into one of his biggest weaknesses. The smart thing to do would be to kill you because you could be used against him by other cursed spirits. But he would never dream of doing that. The idea of you dying makes Mahito sick to his stomach. Especially if it was by his hands.

Because of this, Mahito is very possessive over you. He needs to make sure that your life is perfect according to his standards. He won’t settle for any less. He needs to keep his human protected at all costs.

Also, he loves when you call him ‘Mahi’. There’s something very endearing about it. It sounds cute and delicate, which is a bit ironic considering he fucks you into the mattress nearly every night ;)

_______________________________________________

X - x-ray (what is going on underneath their clothes?)

Oooo la la.

Mahito usually wears baggy clothes. One of his favorites is a basic black shirt which hangs loosely around his collarbones. It brings attention to his neck and strong forearms.

You always end up looking at his arms and hands. They look so muscular and lean. Mahito would have no trouble wielding a sword or other weapons. He appears as though he has effortless strength. Just naturally strong with veiny hands. Your eyes often linger a bit too long.

You love to watch Mahito move chess pieces with those hands of his. See how they work and grip the small pieces. It never fails to give you dirty thoughts. You find yourself imagining those big hands wrapped around your breasts instead. Squeezing the soft flesh firmly.

And when Mahi is naked..?

His abs are perfect. He looks like he was chiseled out of clay. And the stitch marks run in symmetrical patterns across his skin. You want to count all of them and see how many there are.

Mahito is clueless about his own attractiveness.

He truly has no idea that his physique is considered highly attractive in the human world. He would genuinely be surprised to learn that hundreds of human women would be interested in sleeping with him. You haven’t told him about any of that yet. You’re far too busy appreciating his body all on your own.

And his dick?

It’s big. Even when it’s flaccid. When he is fully hard, you get to see the size and girth in all its glory. It looks really big inside of your smaller hand. But to you, it’s the perfect size. It hurts slightly if he fucks you too hard. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy it.

He doesn’t have much body hair. You find yourself wondering if he shaves it, but perhaps it has something to do with being a cursed spirit. You doubt that Mahito would know the first thing about shaving.

Read more Mahito here

[hunting-songs]

Muse Demeanor And Mannerisms Guide : Senritsu Döne Tagged By: A little wildbirdie ! Tagging: @zinbu @gyofukuki @yeonbean @bewitchingbaker @skarletchains @kylo-wrecked @kiigan @muddsludge @zealctry @distortedkilling @lightfaithed @saiakv @uzumakiuser ...AND YOU !

ᴇʏᴇꜱ. avoids eye contact when nervous, maintains eye contact, avoids eye contact due to being neurodivergent, enjoys eye contact as a means to read and convey emotion, looks down when emotional, looks up when emotional, cries openly, wipes tears quickly, suppresses tears, wandering gaze when lost in thought, holds gaze while thinking, seeks out eye contact for reassurance, seeks out eye contact to gauge enthusiasm during conversations, eyes move constantly during conversation*, expressive eyes, emotions only evident through eyes, uses eye contact to intimidate, looks up while thinking, looks down while thinking. *While Senritsu has not a too hard time to hold eyecontact, most people are not on eyelevel with her so she usually looks somewhere else when talking. After all, all the informationshe needs are given to her by her keen hearing.

ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ. clasps behind back,  rests in lap,  fidgets with clothes,  twiddles thumbs,  chews at nails,  pushes back cuticles,  draws patterns on table/counter surfaces,  animated gestures while speaking,  only gestures to emphasize, utilizes sign language,  speaks only through sign,   callouses,  scars,  smooth,  wrinkled,  worn,  soft,  delicate,  boney,  slender,  thick,  veiny,  touches others while speaking, reaches out while laughing,  reaches out to comfort others,  reaches out to seek comfort ,  places face in hands when exasperated,  places face in hands when exhausted,  places palms over eyes to hide when overwhelmed,  rests chin in hands,  taps fingers when impatient,  taps fingers when nervous,  taps fingers while thinking,  scratches scalp,  strokes chin,  rubs back of head,  toys with objects around them,  runs fingers over surfaces while walking by.

ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ.chews lip,  chews at inside of cheek,  licks lips,  bites tongue,  chews on straws,  resting frown,  resting smile,  neutral resting expression,  resting pout,  grinds teeth,  flexes jaw,  covers mouth when laughing*,  covers mouth when shocked,  covers mouth when concerned,  hands to lips while thinking,  covers mouth when chewing,  chews with mouth closed,  chews with mouth open,  smirks,  grins,  subtle smiles,  wide smiles,  sad smiles,  intimidating smiles,  menacing grins,  openly smiles,  tries to suppress smiles,  bares teeth when angry,  lips quiver when emotional,  stutters,  speaks quickly,  speaks slowly,  good pronunciation,  poor pronunciation,  moderate pronunciation,  purses lips,  sucks in lips,  holds mouth open when shocked or confused. *Not covers mouth when laughing: There is a lot of fanart of Senritsu beeing very lady-like and covering her mouth when laughing and laughing delicately. Which is probably just the normal tick of making female character hyper-feminine when they do not fit conventional attractiveness. However in the Manga the only panel we have of her laughing is her just fully throwing her head back and laughing loudly into Kurapikas face over beeing looked through so keenly by him just looking in her eyes. So accordingly Senritsu is on this blog not very lady-like and more adventerouse / roughish; including her mannerisms. And she also has a waggish sense of humor,after all she was so very amused over beeing found out so easily.

ʟᴇɢꜱ. bounces leg when 'nervous',  draws knees to chest when sitting,  draws knees to chest as a means of comfort,  sits on knees,  sits with legs criss crossed,  sits with legs spread open in chairs,  crosses legs when sitting in chairs,  sits with one leg folded under the other,  places feet on furniture,  never places feet on furniture,  sits on counters,  sits on desks,  sits on tables,  sits on edge of seat,sits hunched over with forearms on knees,  arches one knee up,  sits on the arm of chairs/couches,  feet on dashboard,  swings legs back and forth when sitting somewhere elevated,  wiggles toes when nervous,  wiggles toes as a general tick,  shuffles feet,  kicks foot into ground,  stomps feet,  loud footsteps,  quiet footsteps,  silent footsteps.

ʜᴀɪʀ.runs fingers through hair,  tugs at hair,  picks at scalp,  chews on hair,  twists locks of hair while thinking or nervous,  smooths out locks of hair while thinking or nervous,  prefers hair out of face,  prefers long hair,  prefers short hair,  wears hair back,  keeps hair down,  smooths back hair,  plays with other’s hair while talking,  plays with own hair while talking,  strokes hair to 'comfort' others,  likes having hair stroked for their own comfort,  braids others’ hair while talking,  braids own hair while talking,  flips hair out of face,  pushes hair out of face,  leaves hair alone even when falling into face *Senritsu has thick, unruely hair that remainds more of a horsemane. As a child she usually wore it in messy braids, than she just put her hair up in a half-bun to have it out of her face and her care for her hair consists of using the most cheapest Hotel-shampoo. The only times in which she actually had a nice hairstyle was when Ask helped her when she needed to look presentable for a concert or a interview. Senritsu likes her hair, especially because it is her fathers and it is one fo the only features that stayed even after the curse but she really much does not put much effort into it (same as her looks and cloth) as mostly during her work as a instrument-restorator or Hunter, she does not has to look a certaine way and pragmatism goes over aesthetics. Unless she has to to preform (music, for a social event), so she can show her respect to this preformance by looking a certaine way.

[seiwas]

HELLO OMG it's so very nice to meet you too! tapping mic, okay my thoughts on iwa are:

i feel like i have a strong strong moral obligation to mention athletic trainer iwa HIS FOREARMS???? his forearms <3 NEED I MENTION MORE??

AND HIS SMILE god his smile ESP IN THAT ONE PANEL

his smileee <33333

and then and then and then and then i think (i know) he'd be the type to soften his hard edges for and around you, the way he'd glare and shoot daggers at oikawa one second and then his eyes crinkle a little at the corners and the way his voice deepens but it's not harsh at all with you the next

when he places a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you through a crowded place!!!!! when he shortens his stride just a tad so that you can walk at a comfortable pace!!!! when he looks at you with those eyes before holding your face in place to kiss your lips so sweetly (there's a reel i saw a while back that i think is so iwa coded - link: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CiNvcBNJf9a/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==)!!!!

and i just know!!! i just know!!! that when he sits, he manspreads just a bit to where it's insanely attractive, his beefy thighs to his lean waist and broad shoulders :3 and when you sit next to him, he has his arm on the back of the sofa >.< please i hope you know what i'm trying to describe here T-T and then when you snuggle against him and his heart skips a beat but he shifts his body and is curling into your warmth too :3

oh and i know his forearms are the right amount of veiny that's so hot :3 there's no way i could forget that asldfasdlkfj

AND CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS MAN WITH TATTOOS??? goodness (like a simple one on the back of his neck asldfkajsdlf)

and how comforting and reliable he is :(((( bad day? no problem, he's got you, don't even worry

and i feel like he's such an acts of services person (just like me! lakdfjs) or like the really sweet gift giver, like walking by and seeing pretty flowers so he picks one to bring back to you or not forgetting to add your fav stuff in the shopping cart when you both go grocery shopping :(((( or when he when he aldfkasdflasdkf when he made a little diy something for you and he's so bashful giving it to you because he thinks it's so bad but you think it's so sweet

he's so beefy :3 i'm drooling

when he melts into your embrace as your scratch his scalp at that spot he likes best, when he kisses your neck trailing up to your jaw and down to your collarbone, when he pulls you into his lap just because, when he wears those black muscle shirts you love ogling him because he loves the way your face looks as you stare, when he teases you by revealing just a little bit of his stomach and toned abs

he's so husband material

idk if these are the thoughts you were looking for but these are the thoughts i have for this man i'm sorry it got so long alskdfakslj

koi i hope you know this took me to a whole new dimension of brainrot for this man.

tagging zuro anon & @augustinewrites + @itadorey in case you guys want to suffer with me

you are absolutely so REAL for mentioning his forearms koi like wtAFAFSFCSFC i have such a thing for forearms in general. but his? oh god his???! makes me a diff type of insane. the VEINY but right amount is so so REAL OF you koi. i think you're looking at them rn for u to know this.

AND HIS LIL SMILE OH MY GOD PLS. IT GETS ME EVERYTIME. so cheeky. so boyish like can YOU BELIEVE THAT MAN IS 27 THERE WTAFSDFGHSA.

oh my god koi you literally. I FEEL THE EXACT SAME WAY 😭 i honestly think hajime's rlly normAL around everyone except oikawa 😭 and it's rlly just bc they've known eachother for so long that they have their own personas around eachother 😭 BUT YOU KNOW. i think he rlly is really well-mannered otherwise 😭 and is actually sweet 😭 (maybe swears a bit here and there but never yells at you or anything 😭)

HAND ON LOWER BACK KILLS ME EVERYTIME. at the top of my liST OF SUBTLE INTIMATE GESTURES PLS. AND IT'S SUCH A HE THING TOO 😭 i think he actually is rlly considerate and thoughtful omf 😭 and those eyes... KOI U TOOK ME OUT FR 😭 THAT REEL HOLY EFFHSDBFSD im crying right now

my god the manspreading you get that so spot on too koi like. it's enough to be a manspread but not gojo levels or anything that it's bothersome!! and he absolutely closes em when he's in public spaces like trains!! also definitely offers seats to older people and pregnant women 😭😭 and rlly young children 😭😭 HIS RATIO. pls.

koi my nose is bleeding from everything u said literally LIKE ARM ON BACK OF SOFA?? SDHJBFGASDHJB the way it also is when he backs up the car. i am. i AM. how his heart skips a beat when you snuggle into him but he tries to play it off is also SO SO SO him i can't even oh GOD 😭

oh my god don't EVEN GO to small tattoos with him. oh MY GOD. i will GO INSANE KOI i am biting my FIST.

and how dependable and reliable he is is truly my downfall when it comes to him liKE oh my god. is literally running u a bath/shower the moment u get home 😭 i think he's absolutely the type to be so thoughtful in getting you these small things you mentioned to him weeks ago! restocks ur hygiene products for u i just know it. replaces the broken phone stand in ur car after noticing u struggle with it for the nth time this month. AND THE LITTLE DIY THINGS HE'D DO 🥹 oh bless him. i don't think he'd do it often and that's the whole point!!! when he tries to write you a lil letter (which u know is dEFINITELY NOT his love language 😭) but he knows u like receiving... and its all... his messy handwriting and decorated with like stickers u have no idea where he found ?? i don’t think it’s pretty at all but it looks like effort and every bit of the love he has for you. and he's so shy giving it to you too oH oH OHHH oh my god bLESS him i would marry him on the spot.

i think he's so into physical affection too 😭 really touchy tbh 😭 pda in the subtle ways but when you're alone together he's clinging onto you 😭 always wanting to touch you 😭 AND OMF the melting in ur embrace and scratching his scalp... SO REAL OF U KOI... the kisses... the pulling into lap... koi... KOI.... YOU 🫵🫵🫵 you are killing me rn. and how. u can still never remove the little shit in him that teases u like u said. with his damn tshirts. when he stretches to expose skin. oOOHHH HEEE.... HE... he KNOWS...... he's never showy/cocky with his physique to others but oW when it comes to you....

HE REALLY IS SO HUSBAND. HE IS SO.

do not apologise koi. these are definitely the thoughts i have of this man. i AM GOING INSANE BITING MY FIST. i also saw that u like oikawa (i love him too) and i think, like u said, i have an equal want of having iwa as my husband and oikawa as the father of my children 😭 they'd both be good at either but it's still just. THAT'S THE VIBES, u feel?

[stwur]

Been seeing someone new, she's poly, gay married, and has a kid, so it's quite nice and breezy.

She was at mine the other week, and put on my flowy sheer robe. She has a very similar body shape to me, and I looked at her and it fucking hit me.... that don't want to look like that, I'm just attracted to that.

So many things have been falling into place in my head. I did enjoy my corset and suspenders when i used to wear them, but something always felt a little off, and all the attention I was getting (mostly from cishet men) made me mostly uncomfortable.

And now I'm remembering how when I hit puberty and I was developing "womanly curves" my mum insisted that I have to wear clothing that fits my shape, cause if I wear something loose i will look fat, and being fat is obviously the worst thing you could be. And that stuck with me, for a very long time, that I have this shape and I have to wear things that emphasise it. But I envied boys, how their clothes just hanged on them, their big veiny hands, and how nice their forearms looked then they rolled their sleeves up.

It's all coming togetherrrrr

[geralts-yenn]

@raccoon-eyed-rebel asked:

⭐

I have so much to say about my writing, so choosing a section for this wasn't easy. But I decided I'd go with a part of the second chapter of Believe in Me...

Charles and Melot both bowed down and sank their heads to the floor. “Your majesty!” 

August was sitting at his desk, his eyes on a pile of papers in front of him. He merely raised an eyebrow, still looking through the documents with a deep frown on his face. Everything in his appearance screamed authority. 

He was wearing black suit pants with a matching waistcoat, the sleeves of his charcoal shirt were rolled up over his elbows and revealed his strong veiny forearms, the pale skin covered by coarse dark hair. His strict eyes were glowing red under his dark curls, and his stubbled jaw was sharp as a knife. His mustache made him look ostentatious, but not less attractive.

“Sit down!” he ordered, and Charles and Melot both sank onto the heavy wooden chairs in front of the desk. A minute passed with no one speaking nor moving, except for August’s eyes, which were still scanning the page in front of him.

The first appearance of the vampire's king! This scene was one of the first that popped up in my head after I knew I was really going to write a multi chapter vampire story.

Everything in these paragraphs is just so vivid in my head, I hope I could get this at least partly into written form.

And then, when I was eagerly working on this, you came to distract me with some very nice arms:

So, yeah, this:

He was wearing black suit pants with a matching waistcoat, the sleeves of his charcoal shirt were rolled up over his elbows and revealed his strong veiny forearms, the pale skin covered by coarse dark hair.

was you! Thank you 😘

Another thing that really made me remember writing this scene is that my language tool add on asked me to stop being rude when the boys addressed their king. I know, I already told you, but it is so damn funny to me. I had to share:

And - I have to say - although I absolutely love my vampire!Melot and his cousin Charlie, too… Maybe August is secretly my favorite character in this story and I really missed him writing the last chapters. I am so happy to have him in the next one that is to come.

Because I really need things like this to happen:

“Sit down!” he ordered.

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines. 

Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!