#very lifelike i love it

[hemmohoran]

You Are What You Love (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Requested? Yes! (requests are currently closed)

Summary: Based on the song "Daylight" By Taylor Swift. Luke's thinking about his perspective of love while he reminisces about when he first met you

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of alcohol and toxic relationships. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, im sorry)

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author's Note: I just really wanted to write this one and give it my own lil twist. Remember that REBLOGS are super IMPORTANT and so are COMMENTS AND INTERACTIONS. PLEASE SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS. Hope you like it and Happy Reading

My masterlist // tag list in bio!

The day was getting to him and they’d practically just started. Doing promos all day is something they all got used to when they first started, but it has become repetitive and unhealthy after years of being in the spotlight.

It’s not like Luke isn’t grateful for the opportunity he has of making music with his best friends, he loves what he does and why he’s doing it. But he has to admit priorities have changed for him lately, and being away from home for too long was making him angsty.

“Dude, cheer up!” Ashton would say, giving him a big smile and patting him on the shoulder as they waited for the next interviewer.

Luke would give him a half-hearted, tired smile that mimicked his feelings on the inside. He would see how Michael, Ash, and Calum would joke with each other a little bit, already getting in the mood for another seven minutes of answering questions - although everyone knew Ashton would be speaking the most again, thank you very much. And for a moment it was nice to see them slip from the personas they present in front of the camera and just let them be.

He also took this moment to check his phone and take it out from “do not disturb” when a text message showed up. After reading it his smile was for real this time.

“Is it Y/N?” Michael asked, noticing the grin on Luke’s face.

“Yeah, she says hi”

Quickly, Luke texted you back, noticing the interviewer was already making their way to them. Still, he couldn’t shake the smile off of his face.

* A few years ago.

The party was a success - or a mess if you’re the one cleaning afterward, which is pretty much what Luke promised to do if Ashton threw a party that weekend. This time it took more than ten minutes to convince the eldest of 5sos to throw a party, which is more than anyone would’ve expected coming from him.

“Luke, I already hosted a party three days ago” Ashton sighed while doing the dishes, giving his back to the youngest of the band.

“But Aaaash,” Luke pouted even though Ashton couldn’t see him “It’s the weekend!”

“Don’t you think you like partying too much?��

“Funny you’re saying it,” Luke rolled his eyes, but when he noticed Ashton stare once he turned back, he knew he was serious “C’mon, dude”

“Luke, you’re deflecting” Ashton crossed his arms in front of his chest “Don’t think we don’t notice how you use parties as an excuse to avoid the elephant in the room”

“I’m fine,” He scoffed, and the eldest raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh? So you’re ready to tell me what happened the day you showed up at my house with your dog and a U-Haul filled with your things?” Ashton sighed again when noticing Luke’s eyes deflecting his gaze “Look, you know I love having you here, but it’s not fun to see you hurting, Luke. Whatever happened with her… you know we’ll support you, right?”

And Luke knew they would. Fuck, Luke loves his friends because of it, they will never leave him behind if the ship was sinking. But the ship was already at the bottom of the ocean and they were still looking for the remains of his broken heart, not knowing there was nothing left to save. Not even himself.

“Luke…”

“Fine, if you don’t want to have a party then forget it,” Luke said, turning around and going to his room.

Ashton groaned loudly and threw his head back before calling out “Okay! We’re having a stupid party! But you’re cleaning up the next day!”

And so came Saturday and the house was packed. Except for one lonely soul sitting outside against the wall, drinking a beer, and not being able to figure out what was so wrong with him. Ashton was right, he was deflecting. But what was wrong with wanting to have a little party to try and forget the past?

The lights were low, so no one could recognize him that easily as he slipped out. The loud noises of the party drowned the sounds of his mind telling him he was the one that fucked up and that he should go back to what he knew was an unhealthy environment. At least that’s a place familiar to him; the feeling of not being enough but still trying to make it up somehow; being the butt of the joke everyone and laughing along even though they never knew the struggle or the pain behind every word or comment he read on the internet.

He was in love, or at least he thought he was. Damn, there was his whole life ahead of him and he thought she’d be by his side through all of it. But love doesn’t have to be black and white, it doesn't have to make you doubt every single word or move or Instagram post. He never thought love could be so cruel… or maybe he didn’t know what love was after all.

What’s worst of it all is that he knew he hurt some people along the way. Fuck, he even made Ashton throw him a party every week to try and cheer him up even though everyone knew it was all a charade. After everything that he did wrong, his friends are still there for him when he least deserves it. All because he was too hung up to see the reality, or too scared to face it.

Still, at least he was sound of mind and heart and didn’t plan to go back to her, even if that meant waking up and facing the unknown future again.

“Cheers to that,” He mumbled as he brought the beer bottle he was nursing to his lips.

“Amen,” A voice said behind him, making him spill his drink all over his shirt “Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”

Luke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, counting to ten in his head so that he won’t curse this person out. But soon a hand was stretched out to him, offering some napkins to clean himself out.

Finally, his blue eyes were able to look at the person who so rudely interrupted his self-deprecating moment. And for a second there he was speechless.

“I’m truly sorry,” The girl gave him a shy, awkward smile, “I thought you heard me get out and- Well, that’s what I get for trying to be funny, I guess”

Luke blinked up at her, losing his train of thought when he noticed how cute she looked when blushing and the way her eyes sparkled before she looked down. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he accepted the napkins.

“It was funny,” He said, dabbing his shirt “I always hated this shirt anyways, so thank you for helping me get rid of her”

The girl smiled “I don’t know if you’re making fun of me… but, yeah, that shirt is very 2015”

Luke fake gasped in surprise “Are you saying I have bad taste?”

“I’m saying that maybe you did but are now repenting for your sins”

“So quick-witted”

“One of my many talents”

“What’s another one?”

“I can run faster than a wolf”

“Don’t you get tired?” He asked, scooting to his side so that she could sit beside him. She did.

“Maybe when I do I’ll finally find the place that makes me what to stay” She shrugged “Do you have a talent?”

“I can’t seem to differentiate heroes from villains”

She looked at him, resting her chin on her hand “What do you think I am, then?”

“I don’t know yet” He laughed, looking back at her and getting lost in her eyes for a second before asking “Should I be offended you'd rather be out here than at my party?”

“Should I be offended that the host of the party would rather sit outside in the cold than at his own party?” She challenged him “My friend dragged me here, but I’m not much of a social butterfly and I need a moment to charge my battery before she tries to set me up with another stranger”

“Ooff, tough crowd?”

“The toughest”

“Good.” Luke said, leaning back and looking up at the sky “Easiest way not to get hurt”

“Maybe,” She shrugged. “But if we don’t get hurt once in a while then why bother to feel anything at all?”

Luke turned to her, frowning as he examined her face. “Did Ashton send you here?”

The girl looked at him quizzically, “I literally have no idea who Ashton is, but if he’s like- I don’t know, your “guide” in the universe, then maybe?”

Luke laughed “He’s my co-host”

“Oh! The one singing “I will survive” in karaoke! Yeah, no, I haven’t talked to him. But if you want me to call him I could-”

“No!” Luke said way too quickly and she noticed that as well “I mean if he sees me he’ll know he’s right and I would rather eat another one of Calum’s veggie lasagnas than do that”

“Ouch, tough crowd?”

He groaned “You have no idea”

“I might, a little bit”

“Yeah?” He bumped her arm with his “What’s your story then?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Luke,” He said, extending a hand for her to shake.

“Y/N,” She took his hand in hers, shaking it firmly “Well, Luke, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours”

“And if we never want to see each other after we do?”

“Then that’s a risk we’ll both have to take”

*

The memory faded as he noticed all eyes were on him.

Shit.

At least there’ll be more elevator memes after this interview.

“Sorry, could you repeat the question, please?” Luke asked, ignoring Calum’s chuckle.

“Of course!” The interviewer smiled “I said that you were one of the main writers in almost every song of this album. What’s the inspiration behind it?”

“Oh,” It was an easy answer, of course, something he had rehearsed with the guys beforehand. But as the memory of your first encounter was still so fresh, another answer came to mind “Love,”

“Love?”

“Well, I guess that the right way to say it would be the feeling you get when you know you’re safe” He started, “When you feel safe around that special someone, no judgment nor fears or doubts. When that person means the world to you and you would do anything to give it to them just to see the smile on their face even for just a second. Or when you make a mistake and you’re willing to put everything on the line to try and make it right, just hoping the other one will forgive you when you think you least deserve it. “I had my doubts about love for quite some time. Thinking I was defined by it when we just create the context ourselves when we find the right person to share that love with. I always believed love would be…”

“Burning red?” Michael smiled, finding the words right out of Luke’s mouth.

“Yeah,” He smiled “But love is not supposed to burn or to hurt. Love is supposed to keep us warm and safe. Love is golden, like daylight”

“But not our old song Daylight,” Ashton said, making everyone laugh “That truly was a mistake”

“But it is part of our history,” Calum added.

“Like heartbreaks and hurt,” Luke chimed in, going back to the original question “But without them, is it even worth feeling anything at all? They’re just passing by until you find the place you want to stay, with the ones you love”

Luke watched with a smile as the other guys answered the rest of the questions, knowing full well that this is where he was meant to be. But there was someone missing.

*

The car dropped him off first, his friends all saying their goodbyes or see you tomorrow and saying I love you to him before he got out. He cracked his back before he grabbed his bag and made his way to the front door, waving one last time at the guys.

The moment he crossed the door he hung his keys and got rid of his boots. He was about to call your name when a faint mixture of sounds got to him. He frowned as he walked toward the living room, quickly finding you under a pile of blankets, wearing his hoodie and with an arm wrapped around a very sleepy Petunia whose snores were drowned out by the sounds on your phone.

Luke smiled as he shook his head, walking over to his two girls and sliding down next to you, wrapping you with his arms.

“What’ you doing?” He said, kissing you on the cheek “Are you- are you watching 5sos TikToks?”

“What can I say?” You said, turning into his embrace and facing him “You guys are very entertaining”

You ignored the rolling of his eyes as you leaned over to kiss him sweetly on the lips, feeling how he relaxed against you.

“Hi,” You mumbled once you pulled back just enough to have only your noses touching.

“Hi, darling” Luke smiled, kissing you briefly one more time.

“Long day?”

“The longest without you”

“Sap” You giggled, trying to scurry away before his hands found your waist and started to tickle it, but not being able to succeed.

This is what he meant about love. Coming home after a long day and having your laugh be music to his ears. Being able to touch you and kiss you like it was the first time every time. Just relaxing with you on the couch with your dog, watching hours and hours of tiktoks before any of your stomachs started to grumble. Talking about your respective days while you cook dinner together with Fleetwood Mac’s music surrounding the house, listening to all the good and the bad and the ugly, and just being there for each other.

The words “I love you” never made sense to him before you came along. But when you kiss him goodnight and whisper those words to him, he knows them to be true. And when he says them back, he knows he’s falling short. Because a love like that is impossible to describe.

A love like that is golden. A love like that is kind.

So every night he adds:

“Loving you is the best thing I have” * * tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @bubblegum183 @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @hfkait @savagejane1 @youneedtocalumdown @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththat @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @gracieboogirl @fastandtheformula1 @kingxnichole @wildflower98

[chobunz]

── only if you say yes. ( psh ) 🪽

๑ When trying out a dumb trend online with your best friend turns into something neither of you were very much experienced in at all..

pair: best friend!sunghoon ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, fluff, lots and lots of kissinggg, you’re both virgins lol, kinda subby!hoon, dry humping, hoon cries a little bit, surprise ending ?? | words: 2.1k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“uhh.. y’sure best friends are allowed to be doing this ?” sunghoon murmurs against the heat of your skin as you got dangerously closer. you boldly straddled his lap, telling him that you want to plant kisses all over his face with a fresh coat of pink gloss adorning your lips.

the idea randomly sprung into your head as you were watching some tiktok video about ‘covering my boyfriend’s face with lipstick kiss marks to see his reaction’ but… you didn’t have a boyfriend. you never really liked any of the gross, annoying boys at your school nor had a crush on anyone before. well, besides for one boy— the only boy you ever really cared about was sunghoon, who’s been your best friend since childhood and shared almost everything with.

the two of you were just casually sitting on your bed like usual, both your parents were gone as they had some important business meeting to attend to, leaving you both bored out of your minds with absolutely nothing better to do. you’ve always thought about kissing your best friend and how he’d react if you did it, would he be surprised ? upset ? angry ? turned on ? who the hell knows, but one thing you knew for certain was that you wanted to share your first kiss with him and only him.

“i don’t see why not, i mean.. unless you don’t want me to ?” your round eyes sparkle up at sunghoon as you ask him for permission.

the boy was far too flustered to speak, blushing softly as he gets shy and looks away, his eyes scanning the perimeters of your room. he looks at the soft pastel pink walls, your shelf full of books, random stationary, and the stuffed plushies that you’ve collected over the years. sunghoon knows practically everything about you, he knows that you’ve always liked cute things and how you’re so obsessed with all things pink and dress on the hyperfeminine side. he loves how innocent you are and how you still believe in the tooth fairy or the fact you have to sleep with a star projecting nightlight because you’re too afraid of the dark. he quite literally thought you were the most adorable, precious little thing to have ever graced this earth.

“uh, of course i want to..” “just wanted to make sure is all.” he replies awkwardly, the more cool and collected response in his head didn’t go quite as planned…

with that, your pink tinted glossy lips scattered kisses onto his rosy cheeks. the feeling of your breasts brushing up against sunghoon’s chest making him whimper, the only thing covering your nipples being the thin camisole you wore. your lips start to mark him on every spot of his face, kissing his little moles one by one. you especially loved the mole near the bridge of his nose and the one under his eye, everything just screamed perfection about him from head to toe.

you start to giggle as you find it funny that your lip marks are printed all over your best friend’s face. the way your warmth from your body heat combined with your cinnamon scented perfume only becomes stronger whenever your lips are near his face, it makes his mind all frizzy. he couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t even believe this was happening. he truly thought he was dreaming; but it was too lifelike to feel like a dream.

“you look s’cute !” you smothered a dozen more kisses along his jaw through your words.

you smiled like a giddy teenager as you pull away from sunghoon’s face, bringing your hand mirror to his face so he can see all the kiss marks you drowned him in. for some reason it felt natural to him, he was happy to have your marks on his face; he’d walk around in public with your kiss marks on his face and wouldn’t have a care in the world of what others would say/think. there’s no one else he’d rather be doing this right now with than you.

“what’s on your mind hoonie ?” you ask all innocently, wondering why he’s been so quiet this whole time.

sunghoon doesn’t say much of anything in return, instead he grabs your face and crashes his lips against yours. you didn’t know the first thing about kissing, neither did he to be honest, but he’s watched enough romance movies and k-dramas to get the gist. your eyes widen at the fact that your own best friend you’ve known since birth has his lips on yours right now. they felt soft, so plush, and molded so perfectly with yours. you never wanted this to end, you simply could kiss his pretty lips all damn day. you were caught off guard when he abruptly pulls away, he opens his eyes and sees how in shock you are. he panics at the idea of you getting mad at him but he doesn’t say a word. he’s not exactly sure what to say..

“o-oh sorry.. i just really wanted to know what it’d feel like to have your lips on mine. you’re making me.. feel all these strange things inside..” god, he feels like such an idiot. he feels as though he’s blew any chance of redemption but is quickly surprised when you pull the collar of his t-shirt to reel him back in for another passionate kiss. he doesn’t even hesitate to melt into you, you were like a drug to him, more addictive than any substance could ever be.

๑ ๑ ๑

it wasn’t long until you found yourself back on sunghoon’s lap, making out with him for what seems like hours. you didn’t know what the hell you were doing but you were doing what your natural instincts were telling you and so was he. you felt an odd sensation throughout your body, something you’ve never felt before.

all you knew was that you needed some more friction, so you rocked your hips against sunghoon’s clothed erect, feeling him grow under your thin little shorts. it felt so weird but so good at the same time, the way he ruts his hips to be in sync with your movement, how it makes your whole body tingle, your pussy was throbbing, aching for more. both you and sunghoon made the most needy, whimpering sounds against each other’s lips.

“can we do it more ? can.. can you rub yourself on me again ?. it feels so so good y/n, i can’t take it ! i need it.. need to feel you on me please please please,” sunghoon’s whines were making your heart flutter. he was just so cute ;( he may be a couple years older, taller, and a lot stronger than you, yet he was always so soft and gentle towards you.

“mm.. of course hoonie, just be good for me m’kay?” you wanted him to be a good boy for you, you wanted him to let you take care of him.

he obediently nods at your words before you quickly get off of his lap and signal him to lay down flat on your bed. you shove the millions of sanrio plushies out of the way and make sure sunghoon’s head is comfortably laying on your fluffy body pillow, it was a must to have sunghoon feeling well at all times. it definitely wasn’t in the ‘women are made to take care of men!’ bullshit kind of way but in the way that even though he’s older, taller, and stronger than you he’s still your baby. he’d do anything for you, as you would do the same for him, so that’s why he obeys so easily, he knows you’ll take good care of him.

“you look so beautiful” sunghoon whispers as you begin to slowly take your clothing off, you were left in just your white camisole and your floral panties with a cute pink bow on the front.

“lemme take your shirt off hoonie,” he nods so you take off the oversized black t-shirt, leaving him in just his sweatpants.

you could tell sunghoon wasn’t wearing any underwear especially because you can see the outline of his bulge so well, so one tug of his sweatpants and his cock will be exposed. you eye his beautiful body, how toned and muscular he was… not to mention how defined his abs looked, you’ve seen them before many times, but not like this. your manicured fingers drag across his abs, he attempts to hide his face by turning to the side but you softly grab him, cupping his chin so he could face you once again.

“don’t— i wanna look at you hoon, and you want me to do that thing again, right?” you ask him sweetly as you tilt your head, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“please. i don’ wanna sound rude but stop talking and do it again… i like feeling you so close to me.” a pout forms on his lips, so desperate and horny for you that he was sure he’d nut the second you grind on him again.

it wasn’t long when you crawl on sunghoon’s laying figure. you’re now on top of him, your core pressed against his bulge that was harder than before. you feel your lower area grow excessively wet, it was clenching around nothing. you look down at sunghoon, his eyes giving you the most pleading, innocent look. you smile at him before you start to move against him, the whines slip out of his lips so easily. you see the way he closes his eyes, the way his lips part open as he lets out soft moans for your ears to drown in.

his hands fly to your hips and slightly grips them, something tells you he wants you to move faster. you plant your hands on his chest and move your clothed pussy against his hard faster, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you moan at the way your clit was being stimulated by the friction. it wasn’t long until you and sunghoon both felt this strange feeling bubbling inside your stomachs, it was like a fire in your lower abdomen.. a good fire.

“hoon.. w-what is going on.. i feel weird— oh my god!” you screech as you felt yourself release warm liquid out of your pussy.

sunghoon saw the way you were slightly shaking on him, how your face twitched, how beautiful you looked when you reached your climax. soon sunghoon felt himself cream in his pants, his eyes teary from the pleasure. he sniffles as you wipe the wetness from his face.. he’s so cute. at first he thought he pissed himself until he realized it was the same liquid that comes out when he thinks about you at night. what did they call it.. cum ?? he searched it up before but he really didn’t understand it much, maybe he’ll ask you to look it up with him tomorrow.

“we should.. do that again more often..” sunghoon says to you, your body collapsed besides his, hugging him from his side. he hugs you back, he feels so close to you.. like you two are one.

your lips found their way back onto his again, subconsciously rubbing up against him again. sunghoon couldn’t help but smile to himself at how much you wanted to feel him, although he was a bit worn out he wouldn’t be opposed to going another round with you on top of him again.

you and sunghoon were enjoying each other’s company, living in the moment as you embraced one another. what you hadn’t come to realize though, were the 4 adults that happened to be both of your parents standing utterly still in shock at the door.. completely dumbfounded.

“sunghoon ? y/n ?? what are you two doing ?!” your eyes widen along with sunghoon’s as you both heard the sudden loudness of your mother’s voice.

“my baby isn’t a baby anymore, oh my gosh !” sunghoon’s mother squeals, she knew that he’s had a crush on you but he never told you. this little kiss you two shared has now basically confirmed that you were also just as much as in love with him as he was with you.

you look at your doorway and see your father, no emotion on his face whatsoever.. he doesn’t seem angry or sad he just seems… unamused ? your mother had her hand over her mouth, sunghoon’s father trying not to burst out laughing and sunghoon’s mom was over the moon that her son is finally experiencing adulthood with a girl.

you’d expect scolding from both of your parents but really they knew this was bound to happen between you two one day, they were childhood best friends themselves, hell, they all used to be friends and now they’re married with children.

guess it was safe to say, you’d be able to give sunghoon kisses all over his face without having to hide it from anyone !

admittedly this isn’t my best work buttt i rlly thought the storyline was cute so i hope some of you enjoyed it nonetheless >-< ♡︎ ♡︎ also here’s a qt little visual of what y/n was doing to hoonie pie in the beginning ehehe <3

[4giorno]

okay naris heh cant see? line sounds AMAZING. its a line that you rlly have to say confidently so thats probably why but still!!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! :) mayhaps can i request your HC's for viktor x an artist reader. 👉👈 ur angst drabbles have been sustaining my life since season 2

There’s a saying that if an artist loves you or falls in love with you, you can never die.

A saying that Viktor didn’t give much thought until it was very clear that he was your forever muse, your reason to keeping your passion alive through experimenting art styles to maximise the effect you wanted your art to have; almost in the exact same way a scientist would conduct experiments in order to understand how something works and how to properly utilise it.

However each and every one of your art works came out looking like masterpieces that should and probably would be studied by future artists themselves one day, given how beautiful they were.

But also because they all included a man with amber eyes and soft chocolate hair hard at work with his own projects as blue sparks are captured liked shooting stars flying past his beautiful face. He truly was a once in a lifetime experience that you wanted to eternally capture within the pages of your sketchbook.

It literally didn’t matter what he did, whether it was tinkering, experimenting with the hexcore or just simply existing, you wanted to capture as much of Viktor as you possibly can whenever you can.

Viktor, in your eyes, was the kind of man people would kill to create sculptures of and artworks that would be seen in grand museums, within a beautifully intricate frame that only added emphasise to his importance to the artist in question. The artist being you of course.

So needless to say whenever you were with Viktor you made sure to have your sketchbook and pencils in hand as you knew that you’d end up wanting to sketch him for the millionth time that day.

However your favourite sketch of him came when you made him smile, genuinely smile.

The image of his bright and handsome smile was all you could see for hours on end as you found yourself absentmindedly sketching his face, his smile, the wrinkles near his eyes and his wind ruffled hair to perfection.

You then found yourself staring at it as though reliving the moment where you heard his laugh reach your ears like a harmonious melody, swept upon the wind that ruffled his hair and into your ears and your ears only.

To be loved by an artist was to be seen and you saw Viktor in a way that nobody else could, not even himself, and it showed in your work as you made him look like an angel disguised as a human given how frequently you used the colour gold whenever you drew him. From his eyes, to his clothes, everything with Viktor had hints of gold to it.

So much so that you had to get more colouring pencils of the exact same shade of gold so frequently that the manger of the art shop knew your name and the muse of your latest works at this point.

‘Drawing Viktor again I see?’ They’d teasingly ask as you’d shrug your shoulders.

‘Guilty as charged.’ You would reply before taking your things and leaving.

Viktor didn’t pry into your sketchbook, it was your belonging and he didn’t feel it was necessary for him to pry into it, but his curiosity didn’t help him one day as he found himself drawn to the sketchbook that you seemed to had left in his lab.

The first few pages were merely parts of the academy that you frequently visited, from the gardens, to the library, to even the lab he was stood in. Each one was increasingly more impressive than the last with how lifelike you made each one as though he could fall into the scene you had created; a true testament to your talent, creativity and insane attention to detail.

However the further the sketchbook went, he could easily see a decline in inspiration in your art. only for it to pick back up again when you had started drawing him doing the most mundane of things -at least in his mind he thought so- as simple sketches to portraits solely done by oil pastels or only colouring pencils. All just to emphasise his features and the concentrated furrows of his brows, a large variation of colours you’ve used so effortlessly to make up his face in a way that he could never imagine.

And yet Viktor found that there was more artworks of yours regarding him, artworks that seemingly continued endlessly and were just as hyper detailed and colourful as the more of himself that he saw, each one touching his heart in a way that made him realise that this was how you genuinely saw him; an angel in human skin as the way you depicted him was either simply human or an ethereal being coated in various shades of gold.

Through the eyes of an artist, through the eyes of you, Viktor knew that you only conveyed what you believed to be true and the fact that you saw him in such a way was enough to have him struggling to breath, but in the best way possible.

You way you saw him transcended beyond the person he saw each and every day in the mirror. You saw him as a man of infinite beauty, wisdom and strength in a multitude of ways while never shying away when it came to his leg nor disease.

If anything you made those parts of him stand out the most in a way that told him that you found these parts of him a strength and perfection in your eyes. Telling him that you didn’t wish him to be anything other then himself, for he was perfect and so much much that only your art could help describe.

Viktor; a man on borrowed time became a man immortalised within the pages of his artist lover.

He even seen the sketches of him fast asleep against his workbench you’ve done and even then you took your time making it look like he was staring into a mirror of himself.

You’d catch him flicking through your sketchbook but you couldn’t say anything against it as the way his eyes light up and soft smiles upon looking at your latest works, looks that only made you want to draw Viktor even more if it meant this sight becoming more common with the passage of time.

‘You like them?’ You’d ask from the doorway.

‘I love them my dear.’ He replies softly as he presses his forehead against your own, making you smile fondly. ‘But was the drawing of me sleeping necessary?’ He adds playfully as you chuckled.

‘Oh it was very necessary my muse.’ You replied with equal playfulness as you kissed his nose. ‘I saw an opportunity and couldn’t let it pass me by without at least drawing it first,’ Viktor scoffs but the smile upon his lips remained, ‘and besides you looked really peaceful and relaxed that I wanted it to be something I remember. Hoping I get to experience more moments like that to be my muse for my future drawings.’ You finished.

‘I’m glad the to could do that for you my dear.’ Viktor closed his eyes and rested his head further against yours, wanting nothing then to capture this moment within his mind forever, secretly hoping to continue to be the muse of your art projects as your artistic range grew.

‘You’ve always been my muse,’ you said, closing your eyes, ‘you will always will be my muse.’

[stick2vamp]

Halllo and welcome to the Sebastian Solace fans!!

This interest me, Im in the Welcome home fandom and one of the characters is self-aware so I've wondering if Sebastian is self aware that he know the player is just playing game

What is his reaction? (It's okay if you don't want to- I can request other one- ÚvÚ

That's all and have a lovely Day or Night

𝜗 ˖ ❝ you're not what you seem. ᵕ ♡

— in which sebastian realizes something is off with you, and everything else that's ever known. ✧

↷　 sfw 𓈒 implied sebastian uses you a bit 𓈒 no happy ending 𓈒

When SEBASTIAN figures out that he is nothing more than a character in a videogame, one who has no control over the ending of the story, he is upset for a lack of better words.

It made sense, now that he thought about it. Why his memories of the past were oddly fuzzy as if they weren't truly his, why he never seemed to be unable to find things for his shop, why you kept coming back over and over again.

He's mad both at himself and you and the situation: himself for not realizing sooner, how could he be so stupid? You for never mentioning it to him, although you very well knew. And the situation: because that means everything he went through didn't have to happen, and was made for someone else's enjoyment.

In the midst of his anger, though, he realizes that you are trapped just as much as he is, if not more.

If everything was some game, some story, then that means only certain things had actually been written into existence. The path you followed on your journey, for example, was the only path there could be. Your goal couldn't be anything but getting the crystal.

Maybe he isn't real to you.

But his experiences were real.

His agony was real.

And he was real to himself.

Which is why he began to change things. You couldn't break your character's code, but he could break his. You'd occasionally hear little 'secret' voice lines that haven't ever played before, animations that seemed more lifelike and diverse. You'd see how Sebastian didn't show up just once anymore, no, he showed up frequently.

Yes, once you reached the end, you would be forced back to the beginning. But would he? It wasn't in his code to force him back, was it?

Sebastian began to stick by you more and more, trying to win your favor. It'd be easier to board with you if you grew attached — sympathetic towards him. It'd also be easier for you to give more documents. One of the only things you had control over was when you chose to buy from him. He endlessly looked through the research documents you gave him to see if there was anything about this: but nothing.

And when you finally had the crystal and were waiting for the submarine...

Sebastian swopped in and climbed into the submarine alongside you. You didn't put up a fight—well, you probably couldn't even if you wanted to. Luckily, there were no guards in the chamber, so he wouldn't be spotted until you made it to the surface.

He was finally going to be free again.

This may be a game, but it's his life.

He would finally —

— Sebastian was back in his shop once more.

Right, because games don't load their unused areas, oops!

[sofiasfanartcollection]

<3<3<3 I love it so much

A new chapter? In this economy? And it's a Ron and Leo chapter? Yeah, it sure is. This one's for you, Sofia!

[zvdvdlvr]

Why’d You Have to Wait?

🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?

🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.

🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)

Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.

He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.

You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.

Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.

Tonight was no different.

Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”

Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“

Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”

“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”

Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”

“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”

Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”

“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“

Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”

Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?

“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”

Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”

Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.

— 🔥

The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.

The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.

You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.

Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.

Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.

Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.

So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.

You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.

— 🔥

That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.

But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.

You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.

Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie. 

“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”

You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.

“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.

Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.

Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.

“Hey,” Aaron said finally.

You nodded. “Hi boss.”

Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.

“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”

You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”

Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.

— 🔥

“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”

Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.” 

Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”

“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”

Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”

— 🔥

David convinced you all to wait until ordering.

But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.

[comfortless]

Everything you write leaves me breathless <333

Sorry in advance for my English

I was thinking about König, (maybe in an ancient rome/Greek settling) being so alone and desperate for connection that he turns to religion: one day he's walking in the woods, deep in thought, when he finds an abandoned temple. The inside is small but lavish, with a life sized statue of what must be its goddess. He sees this lovely sculpture, abandoned and alone and sees himself in her. He becomes a dedicated, fanatic and soso lovestruck worshipper. Unknownly to him his goddess, woken by his prayers, has been watching him and listening to him. One day while he's praying in front of her her statue moves and talks and now his deity is in front of him. Looks like he has an opportunity to worship her like she deserves ;)

granting you ten million kissies for this prompt and your sweet words! your English is perfect, little wisp! <3 also… giving me an excuse to write more loner/loner and mutual worship?! you have spoken to my heart…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical/myth au; vague time period, brief mentions of violence, fluff, pining, not very explicit smut, mutual worship.

The spirit of the temple feels disorienting, though the architecture is a still, white marble, the floor riddled with leaves and dirt, creeping up the sides of the building as if river water had washed the entire thing ashore… Something feels very alive here, feathered out on the air, a pulse of thunder, the breeze beneath dove’s wings, enthused and yawning. Hungry.

It only becomes more apparent the closer he steps to the statue.

She is unlike any he has ever seen before, carved with the same skill, but so much smaller than the other statues in their temples, so much more lifelike that he almost thinks to greet her. She’s been painted unlike most, a perfect vision bathed in color where she stands out amidst the sea of white and green surrounding her. The temple has not been stained with blood, no offering strewn before her bare feet, left for the rot or dragged away by the dainty hands of this very goddess. No maidens sit in prayer, no men lower there swords to her…

There’s nothing to tell him just who she is, either.

Despite his better judgment, his hand does find her side, a swift draw up from the vision of her thigh peeking from her robe upward to curl over her hip. Her beauty is unmatched, impossible to describe and the call seems almost tangible, shrieking at him in whispers to bend a knee and let her in. So, he does. He prays to her in the silence, alternating between whispers and his own thoughts.

He tells her of his struggles: a soldier brought in from a small tribe up north, robbed from his parents as a boy, how all he knew now were the Roman ways yet could rarely comprehend their customs and deities. Maybe she could offer him some counsel or solace…? Make the weight of his blade feel less heavy as he struck down men that could very well be his own brothers? Give him something to return to when old wounds reopened and he bled, hurt with no one but himself to tend to his heart or his injuries.

The goddess only blesses him with silence: the wind does not pick up outside, there is no disembodied laughter, no sudden thought of an offering or new words to speak to her. She is void of an answer just as the very temple she waits inside is empty of all else.

This does not dissuade him from returning.

Returning to the city after another battle some months later, his first thought is to return to her, to leave the things he’s taken from dead men at her feet, to paint the temple with the blood lingering on his weapon. There is honey, wine, meat and jewelry made of stones from the sea. There is brittle, dried flakes of blood polished from his blade and left to settle onto the floor like the leaves of late autumn. He presents these things to her with a grin, thinking that assuredly this goddess would call back to him then, grant him with a love so consuming that all of the evasion and emptiness cursed upon him would be untwined.

He kneels before her statue, presses his cheek to her thigh, sighs content at the feel of cold marble against the ever-burning of his flesh, gazes up at her like an adoring dog.

Assuredly, if this temple were built for a being that did exist at all she would know just how she was all that this lonesome soldier had, would know the way that he loved her and waited with bated breath and heartstrings pulled taut for her to love him in turn. A greedy, begging muzzle that utters his prayers, words he’s never spoken to anyone whether deity or mortal, only to her in the quiet of the forest.

It’s not madness that provokes him, but the gentleness of her face and the tender look in her eyes, an expression that no other had ever offered to him, no one but this little forgotten goddess. Whether pitying or loving, he did not know. It was only enough to keep him returning: for many days, his path from the city led straight to her feet, even some nights were spent lying upon her floor, finding peace finally being able to sleep next to something apart from lonely walls.

The sun rises and sets each day where he sits and speaks to her as though she were a living, breathing woman. Occasionally he reads aloud to her in the stillness, cheekily tells her when another goddess’ name is brought up within the lines of poetry that they could never hope to compare.

It’s ridiculous when he does not even know what purpose she serves, but this silent figure is his only companion, the only thing that sets his heart ablaze and mind focused in battle because above all else, he has to return to her. Though she can not share his words, he knows somehow that she shares in his loneliness.

Finally, he thinks to ask her the question that has been burning at the tip of his tongue for weeks and months. One, that he has tried to hold back, display a patience that he lacks. It’s after a night of sleeping on cold marble, an ache in his neck from its hardness and his own refraining from bringing a cushion from his own home in his desperation to return to her.

“Why won’t you speak?,” he asks, somber as he makes his way to leave the temple, only halting in place to cast her a fragile look from over his shoulder. He has read the epics, heard the stories and seen the blessings of other deities… Yet no matter what he does or how often he tethers himself to her leg and dotes upon her, she still meets his devotion with nothing but her silence in return.

König is left with the thought that his gifts are not enough, that he, himself, is not enough, even as her sole devotee. To keep his mind preoccupied, he keeps to the city for a time. The bed is cold, the people still see him as a barbaric outsider, and the horrible coil wound around his heart only seems to tighten its grip further. He feels as though he has left a part of himself out there in the forest within the four chalked walls of her temple.

This loneliness does not feel like one he is forced to swallow down, it feels like a vicious sort of ache, the twisting of a dagger beneath ribs to sink in and steal away what little of a life he does have.

He returns to her the following night, with a furrowed brow and a grave look upon his face. There’s an intent to demand she free him of her, that this longing finally pass, but as his sandals reach the entrance to the temple, those thoughts fall away from his mind like droplets of rain, a cool drizzle that begins to fall outside the very moment he is sheltered.

The statue— the goddess moves.

She tilts her head and inspects him fondly, the perfect mouth he has envisioned speaking to him so many times prior tilts upward in the gentlest smile as her bare feet move to carry her body forward.

“A test,” she explains as though answering his question from only the past day, almost saddened by her own words as her gaze lowers to the space between them.

König’s heart does not roar then, it only melts with the knowledge that someone like her has been left alone for so, so very long that she felt the need to prove to herself that he would return to her side. He would. Time and time again he would. When she raises her head to look him in the eye, her own clouded and misty, he only silently prays that she could see such a vow upon his face.

“I am worthy then?,” he questions, forcing himself to remain rigidly in place despite the call- the urge, to circle her, just once, drop at her feet to then feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. Anything. Even an assurance would be reward enough, but there is always a greed in the hearts of men, one he feels burning a hole through his very being even now.

Her lips press to a line and her gaze seems faraway, lost in her own thoughts that must be as mighty as Olympus itself. After a time, she only answers in a soft whisper, “It is I who am unworthy of you.”

All discordance in his chest pulls to a halt at this, all apprehension and sadness are whisked away when she instead comes to kneel before him. She curls her arms around his leg, presses her cheek to his thigh as he had done so many times before. The goddess gazes up at him with not just affection… but reverence, as though he were the strongest warrior of myth, deserving of even the love of something only as ethereal and sweet as she could provide.

His breath catches for a mere moment before he lowers himself at her side. The stares exchanged from both are full of an unspoken wonderment, all of the things that words alone would fail to speak in truth.

He waits out the rain there, sat beside her with the air surrounding them charged with such a great and unspoken affection that even Venus would taste a bitter envy on her tongue should she pass by to see.

She tells him she can not recall what she was the goddess of… or if she was ever truly any goddess at all. The marble surrounding her was put up for a purpose, but she’s never seen the Elysian Fields or climbed Olympus on her own. Her memories are scattered blurs, and she confesses that she feels tired when she tries to parse things together in a way that he will understand.

He listens while he tends to her by offering the honey and dried meat left in offering for her here, then fetches fresh water from the stream that brooks several yards away and returns to her side with a face both damp and flushed.

König tells her of his life too, how during every battle since stumbling upon this sacred place he has kept her in mind; he has no wife to return to, no other women to bed, that since their meeting his life has become hers. He confesses he had the intention of returning only to force a curse upon this madness that had enveloped him, but… he could never have brought himself to do so, even if she had not appeared to him warm and breathing.

Her laugh then could have prompted waves of flowers to bloom and birds to sing in tune, whimsical and so precious he only begins to feel himself fall, truly. Not out of sheer desperation, but with genuine affection.

When her exhaustion does take her, she does not mind the way his arm curls around her middle to tuck her body closer to his own. The goddess has no fury within her, only mirrors his own feelings with a fluttering of lashes and a soft sigh.

So she sleeps, pulled close to him like a lover rather than a stranger. When dawn breaks, when König knows he’s to be called back to train and fight with the other soldiers, have dull talks about what land to cross and take for their own next, she tells him she will wait there for his return.

He can not concentrate as well on his training this day. The plans for future wars and battles do not send flurries, hot excitement through him. The world is an endless gray, reflected above with darkened clouds threatening further rain. There is only one place he wishes to be, one that yearns for him more than his own home or the women waiting on the street for coins the other men readily supply. When one, a native Roman, does ask him why he does not just venture to the brothel to put himself in better spirits, König only grits his teeth to still his hand from quieting him eternally. These men knew nothing of the love he feels, and certainly they didn’t deserve to.

The temple is no different from how he found it the night prior. The goddess sits with her hands curled in her lap, smiling just as fondly at him as she had before. His heart shatters at the thought that she had sat there waiting for him in such a way all day. He swears to her that he will have a proper bed made for her, bring her the softest of furs and cushions stuffed with downy feathers to lie upon. For now his offering is only fruit and wine, things that she shares with him while she shushes his concerns with quiet words and gratitude that he had returned.

She lowers herself again before him after pulling her robe free and lying it upon the floor. It is no proper bedding at all, but she swears that it is enough, that his own warmth is just enough for her to be sated and comfortable. His head swims when she kisses his thigh, drags her lips up from his knee to rest there with that reverent look in her eye. Mortals coupling with deities was not unheard of, but to think it could happen to him…

She is a goddess. How is he supposed to… How could he ever dirty her with himself? He thinks to refuse her before she tugs away the barrier of fabric between them and takes him into her mouth. Stunned, he only watches her, feels her in a way he has never felt a woman before until he finds his voice again.

“Lie down,” he breathes, shaky and tentative as he rests his hand upon her cheek. She complies, giddy and content when she’s splayed out on the white robe beneath her, legs parting immediately and her arms reaching upward to invite him into her hold.

There’s no tact when he lies atop her, feels the warmth of her thighs around him and her arms curled over his neck. His forehead is pressed to her own when togetherness is found, and when she sighs so soft as she envelops him in full, his mouth descends upon her own.

She doesn’t praise him, doesn’t need to in words, because the muffled sounds and cries that leave her lips are more than enough to spear him onward. König, however… he babbles ceaselessly, overwhelmed and overcome by such a profound joy, he can not keep himself from reciting every word that comes to mind, whether vile or pure.

“My goddess,” he whispers into her hair, eyes half-lidded and dazed with each shallow thrust. “We could have had this for a season… you have made me wait so long, hm?”

The way she feels is unmatched, he thinks, when her breathing shudders and she only seems to constrict him further. To think he could bring a goddess to ruin… the grin that crosses his face when he pushes his head against her neck is bordering on both ecstatic and cruel.

“I will give you a demigod,” he hisses against her throat, not at all subtle about just how far he was willing to go to keep her here. With him. More than Olympus, she belonged beneath him, and the tremor that wracks her form then is all of the confirmation he would need.

She sobs his name when the tension becomes too much to bear, fingernails graze the flesh of his shoulders as she shudders, falls into such bliss that her words of praise come incoherent and weak. He follows her to a saccharine abyss with a guttural groan.

The aftermath is softer than any other moment he has shared with her. There are an abundance of kisses pressed between them, littered across her flesh and his own with whispers that leave his mind cloudy. Her worship is subtle by comparison to his own, coming in honeyed stares and such words he would never dare to repeat, no lowly poet deserved to ever hear them, their voices could never compare to her own.

The goddess holds him close, bumps his nose with her own and makes a promise; she tells him for as long as he shall live that this temple was as much his home as it were his own. That even when this body of his does die, she will seek him out in the Elysian Fields, lie at his feet as he had done her own; that no matter what may come, they will never be apart.

[alien-bluez]

raahhhh guh. another lineup, s2 kiddads. i love them so much they're rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. god.

design notes for them under the cut if ur interested!

Grant

blue sweater bc blue is symbolic of titanic ep (something borrowed, something blue)

his tie color is the same color as Darryl's hat in my design

Wears Frank's watch that Darryl gave him, even if it's broken he doesn't take it off.

Green creeper socks because it's a Must. He wouldn't be Grant without them.

Sparrow

curly hair he got from mercedes' genes. he grew out his hair like lark

has a pink flower tucked in his hair like my henry's design

his jewelry and clothes are mostly borrowed from mercedes, he got really into crystals and other things like that growing up and got closer to his druid roots.

earrings are a feather and an oak leaf maybe i dunno i'll figure it out later lol

tattoos! there's supposed to be a bird outline there and other plant/nature related stuff on his arm. I'll draw it out better in the future mayhaps.

colors are brighter, more lifelike cuz he's closer to nature and all that jazz.

Lark

his hair has strands of white hair because of stress/trauma/Everything going on

hair is messier, unkempt because he cares less about appearances and doesn't have time anyways.

darker forest colors, less in tune with nature than sparrow.

his pants are the same color as my Henry's shorts :0) i needed a connection somewhere to his parents, and it just had to be henry.

Terry Jr.

purple shirt because his color is purple to me

fish motifs!! everywhere! i hc that when he and ron get closer bonding thru fishing they'd get each other fun fish printed shirts or something. This was Ron's gift to Terry. The colors of the fish are color picked from my Ron's design.

Fish tail tie and the shirt is also split like a fish tail maybe.

he's the tallest of the kiddads forever and always

Nicky

he wears glenn's sunglasses on his head

he grew out his hair long like morgan's because it's like the one thing he still really has of her. has her hair type and he takes very good care of his hair.

still has the ripped leather jacket from his time as nick and various patches of bands he likes (didn't want to draw them out yet.)

blue shirt because of his time as nicholas/reminder of jodie. blue holster belt and pants are also blue for jodie association

[jymwahuwu]

Hello, it's my first time asking and it took me a lot of courage to do this. So I recently had a thought about what if the reader and Jing Yuan were childhood friends and she used to tease him a lot when they were younger but then she did something to get exiled from the Xianzhou and became part of the stellaron hunters but came back with blade and Kafka like in the story but after the whole phantiliya battle was finished she still stayed on the Luofu for awhile for nostalgia but got captured by the cloud nights and she was sent to see the general himself. But all this time the reader thought the general would have hated her for what she did but instead of hating her he was waiting for her to come back so he could see her and tease her like how she did to him. Idk if anyone else has already sent an idea like this but I just wanted to share my thoughts and I think it would be a pretty interesting storyline. Sorry if I was rambling but it's okay if you don't write abt this I'll be fine if you just gave some thoughts about it. Thank you for reading this idea of mine and don't worry about answering fast I know you have a lot going on in your life so just take care of yourself! (Also sorry if there are some things that didn't make sense I'm too scared to look back at what I wrote)

Love this idea!! It’s interesting and you expressed it clearly. Don't be afraid <3

Ah…turning the tables…my favourite 🤤😌 please provide me with more

-CW: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, threaten

In childhood, you and Jing Yuan were friends. Jing Yuan has precocious wisdom and is out of place among his peers, but you don't respect him. Maybe just…jealousy? These are for some childish reasons, maybe he gets perfect marks every time, he gets candy but you don't, and parents on both sides compare you to him. In your eyes, Jing Yuan is just a white-haired little boy who is similar to you. You occasionally pull his soft white hair, make him some strange braids, and often tease him, such as giving him nicknames and laughing at him. The strange thing is that Jing Yuan has never been angry with you and is as tolerant to you as the ocean.

As you grow older, you gradually drift away from each other. You also know that he joined the Cloud Knights and eventually… succeeded general. Seeing him on the Space Channel, the childhood friend you used to tease, became one of the leaders of this space civilization, and you had really mixed emotions.

You have taken your own path in life, become a member of the Stellaron Hunters, and fallen into the gray area. You and the members pick up Blade and accept him as a new member. I heard that he used to be Jing Yuan's best friend, but when you asked him about it, you found that his memory was also blurred.

Just like you.

Looking back on the past and reviving those faded memories, you are a little unsure whether Jing Yuan really never got angry, or whether you subconsciously beautified this memory. How can this be? He definitely hates you.

Before setting off back to Luofu, Elio's message said that this time the script is about Kafka, Blade and you. He tells you to be careful of General Luofu because this time you have only one fate, which is to be [caught], and only this fate can continue your destiny. It seems that most of the details are no longer visible, and your fate is shrouded in mist. You couldn't help but feel funny and told them you'd be fine.

What can Jing Yuan do to you?

However, the wanted portrait is indeed painted lifelike, in Xianzhou's traditional style. It's hard not to think that Jing Yuan provided an extremely detailed proposal in painting the wanted poster about you. It's kind of creepy.

You rescued Blade according to the flow of the script and met with Kafka. While they went to find the rumored Imbibitor Lunae, you spent some time reminiscing on Luofu. Just a moment. The moment you stepped into that familiar place, you immediately fell into unconsciousness. There was a very slight tingling sensation on your neck, like a small ant biting you, and then you fell into the boundless darkness.

When you woke up… your wrists were already locked with iron chains wrapped in feathers, right at the head of the bed. If you don't pay attention, the chain can even become invisible. Accompanying it was the general's narrowed smile, a little mocking but still gentle. The enlarged smile is right in front of you.

"Jing Yuan?! What are you doing?" A kiss electrified your heart. You watched in shock as your childhood friend held the back of your head and kissed you, lingeringly, lovingly. His eyes were closed, as if he was enjoying it, murmuring your name while kissing you. You pushed and kicked him, but he enveloped you like a quilt, crushing you. He places you in the mating position and bottoms out his cock inside you, emptying out his long-unreleased seed.

"Jing Yuan…? Stop! Stop this…"

Jing Yuan won't stop teasing you - you are too cute for him and that doesn't change. He continued to whisper lewd things in your ear, and occasionally lied about having sent a video of your orgasm to people who hated Stellaron Hunters. Your eyes were as wide as a frightened deer and you sucked his cock with resignation, tears falling. And the number of orgasms is so humiliating, you always deny it… You will not lose to the Jing Yuan you used to tease…

Jing Yuan likes you, but does not deny the possibility. Maybe Jing Yuan once really hated you, maybe he hated you during those teasings, but a long life is like peeling off the peel of a fruit in the end, revealing the crystal clear flesh inside. What remains are those sparkling memories. Your bright smile stayed in his memory.

[ruthytwoshakes]

@blubushie ,,look it’s the he ,,,,

i LOVE the way he only ever like half-smiles and you can see his teeth, but it's enough that you can tell hes very very happy, i love his underbite, i love his weirdly sharp teeth, i love how sweet he looks when he smiles, i love his autism swag. B-)

Edit--AND almost forgotta mention i love his flat affect. as someone with a very flat affect it makes me feel seen and sexy and like a "handsome rogue"

[missmonstermel]

( new blank preorder opens Friday at 2pm PST!) First paint layer process on the Kobold masks! After a grey spray primer I do a very wet layer of pink acrylic to give the rest of the paints a fleshy undertone. Once it dries I dry brush on the base colors. There will be dozens more layers that will go into these to make them as lifelike as I can get, this is just the beginning. This is a long , somewhat draining process but I also love painting up masks. The yellow Kobold will be available for purchase once finished in a few weeks... #missmonster #missmonstermel #kobold #mask #painting #modelpainting #cosplsy #dnd

[wanderingokali]

Not an ask but I love the way you draw and design your creatures! They feel very lifelike and I love reading the information about them, the amount of time and care you’ve put into the world building really shows!! Big fan of any insect designs you do (especially those comet wasp ones!)

Thank you so much anon!! It makes me really happy to read messages like this 💚

I'm really so happy about how the comet wasps ended up being the most popular post of all the okalivember drawings, tumblr is the best because where else would people gush about wasps like i do lol!

Here's an extra one I made just for you :) Just like irl, there probably are thousands of species in every single family of parasitoid wasp, so i could make one everyday and never run out. cheers for bugs and letting me draw all my iterations of one design!

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, Prologue

Okay, so 10 hours early, but I've gotten several requests about the start of the story, so here it is! This has been a big project (still not done with the last 3 chapters...), but so worth it. Remining the readers that this story is 18+ cause of alcohol, smut, drugs (?), throwing up (cause of alcohol, not ed) and other darker themes. Remember that Josh is severly mentally ill, so if you struggle with themes like that, I don't recommend this story.

Some chapters will not feature interactions with him, and some will be longer or shorter, but I'll try to make daily updates, so no worries! This blog is purely for my creative expression, and I don't really want tips or tricks about how to do stuff better, thank you. This whole thing is a way for me to relieve stress and just write without thought. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, please consider following and liking <3

The booze was getting empty, and the night darker. The snowstorm outside had worsened, making the inside of the cabin feel like the perfect cozy place. Emily and Jess had been talking all night about some kind of prank. I don’t know what it was about, and I didn’t want to know. Knowing the lengths they’d go, I kept my distance. During the evening they’d been regularly going away together, whether it was in the bathroom or in the kitchen. They were alone, talking, occasionally giving loud snickers. If Emily wasn’t hopelessly in love with Mike, I would’ve thought she had a thing for Jess. 

Josh is slurring around, mixing up words and almost falling over. He’s basically being carried by Matt from place to place when he wants to go somewhere. Hannah is mixing drinks, leaving them on the counter for everyone. I guess it’s tiring being hosts. Well, not for Josh, but the others. I’m sitting on the sofa with Sam, Ashley and Chris. Ashley seems fine, as she doesn’t get very verbal while drunk, while Sam’s not drinking. She’s sketching on her notepad while talking, and I occasionally look over her shoulder to see the products. They’re gorgeous, every line perfectly in place. I’m mesmerised by her talent, her ability to create something so lifelike. She’s almost like Victor Frankenstein, just a little safer with her creations. She’s drawing Chris now, making sure to add that little glisten on his glasses. I look over at him, then the drawing, then him again. It looks so real. 

“I’m in awe” I comment, looking up at her. She gets a slight blush on her cheeks, clearly not used to such positive feedback. 

“Why thank you” she smiles back at me. 

“Ohhh let me see, let me see!” Ashley shouts, reaching out both of her hands for the pad. Sam complies, putting down the pencil and giving it to her. Ashley blushes as she looks at the drawing, biting her lips in an almost invisible manner. 

“Oh look-” she points at the drawing, holding the pat in front of Chris. 

“She even got some of your freckles” she smiles, still blushing as she looks down on him. Chris doesn’t open his eyes. His head’s resting on her shoulder, and when she nudges him, he gives a slight “mmm” in reply. She gives back the drawing pad to Sam, leaning back so Chris’ head falls in her lap. Luckily she manages to catch his head with her hands, slowly putting him down. He nuzzles into her, and she runs her finger though his hair while breathing out. She’s probably scared he’s going to wake up. 

I turn, giving Sam a look before we both turn to her. The motions make her look up at us, confused. 

“Sooooo” Sam begins. 

“When are you going to ask him out?” I finish, smirking. I can’t help it. It takes a couple of seconds before Ashley realises what we asked of her, and when she does, her eyes widen and both hands immediately go to cover Chris’ ears. Sam grabs my thigh, squeezing a bit to release the energy so she doesn’t laugh.

“Shhhh he might hear you!” she whisper-shouts, looking at us. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’s out cold” Sam teases, grabbing a shot glass and filling it to the brim with tequila. 

“Well, the brain can still recognise things while sleeping”

“Nerd”

“They’re a perfect match”

“Stop it!”

We both laugh, while Ashley’s still pouting. 

“Fine, sorry” Sam continues, giving me the shot glass. I look at her, she’s got a funny look on her face. 

“What is this for?” I ask, taking hold of it and bringing it to my mouth. 

“You seem more present than the rest.” She smiles, nodding to the glass. I drink up, give a grimage and start looking for the lime. 

“There’s no more”, Ashley laughs, and Sam joins her. 

“Asshole”. I move to the kitchen, trying to find some kind of drink to make the shot not come up again. Beth joins me. 

“You look awful”

“Thank you Beth”. She gives me a beer, and I drink it as fast as I can, killing the gross aftertaste. As I look over at her, she gives me a concerning look. I finish up, another bad taste covers my insides, and I run to the sink, feeling like throwing up. 

“Fuck fuck fuck”

“Shit sorry, I didn’t think you would drink that so fast!” Beth exclaims, running to the refrigerator and grabbing some orange juice. As she hands me it, I drink like a feral animal once again, determined to not let this ruin my night. Beth stands behind me, rubbing my back and holding my hair. Just in case. Nothing comes up, and after about three minutes I stand up, giving her a bitch look. 

“Karma’s coming for you Beth, that’s not okay.” She’s still smiling softly at me, whispering for me to follow her. I take her hand, and she leads me to the bathroom. We both sit down on the floor, and I begin to feel my whole body pulsing. Every breath is grand, going to the edge of my fingers. Fuck, I’m going to be sick tomorrow. 

“I wanted to tell you something” she starts, not looking at me. 

“What”

“The others were trying to get you blasted tonight”

“You think I’m naive, of course I know that. Sam never offers alcohol to anyone, and you know how I get”

“Well, yeah. I was kind of in on it”

“I know”, I responded, laughing a little. She looks over at me. 

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, just fun, I wanted to let a bit loose on this trip”

“You know we have an agenda?” No I didn’t. I look up at her, her face slowly moving to the side, facing me. 

“And what is it?” She looks down in shame, and I get a weird feeling in my stomach. If this has something to do with Jess and Emily, I’m leaving on the spot. 

“Well, notice how Josh is also…”

“A little out of it?”

“Yeah, that”. Something clicks, a switch, a lightbulb, something, and I rapidly stand up. 

“Wait!” I exclaim, suddenly realising. My body is wobbling, and I grab hold of the wall so I don’t fall. Beth follows quickly, hands in the air around me in case I fall. 

“You’re trying to get me with your brother?!” 

“You like him don’t you?”

“Well Yeah"

“And you’re both drunk”

“So?”

“Drinks of bravery?”

“No”

“Yes”

“Absolutely not”, and I turn to leave. I go out in the hall, but she runs past me and corners me. 

“Okay, listen. Maybe this wasn’t the best approach, but don’t let the rest of the night go to waste, we’re having fun. No pressure on that area, okay? You’re just having fun tonight” she explains, a bit panicked. 

I can’t be mad at her, but I roll my eyes and give her a nudge, not feeling if I hit her or not. I grab her hand, and we both go to join the others. I know myself, and no matter how drunk I get, making a move on Josh is NOT something I will do. Ever. 

As we’re walking down the stairs, the people have gathered in the living room. Matt is on his way to the bathroom, walking past us and smiling. Such a sweet guy. We join the others, sitting down with Josh to my left and Emily on my right. Josh leans over. 

“Hey, want to get a smoke” he whispers, probably so Sam doesn’t hear. I look out the window, getting shivers just from seeing the snow. 

“The weather”

“We can do it through a window.” I look at the others, who are clearly busy. Nobody’s watching, and we could probably sneak out. 

“My room” he whispers, before drunkenly getting up, moving like a penguin up the stairs. He walks past Matt, who’s going down. 

“Need help Josh?”

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes”

“No I don’t”

Everyone laughs as Josh continues up the stairs. Hannah looks worried, but ultimately starts sipping her drink again. I don’t know how much time has passed before I decide to go. Emily, Jess and Mike went to the kitchen again, but not before drawing a bunch of stuff on Chris’ face. Nobody notices me slipping away, up the stairs and out of reach. 

I walk through the hall. Josh’s room is at the very end. The hall is spinning, doors getting mixed up. I open one of them, walking into a dark room. Makeup is spread throughout every counter, clothes everywhere. This is not Josh’s room. I drunkenly make my way out to the hallway again, noticing a door beside which is slightly ajar. 

As I arrive in Josh's room, his window is open, cold air flying through the room, giving me goosebumps. He turns around when he hears the door close, looking me up and down and smiling. He’s already got a cigarette in his mouth. I smile back, walking towards him. As I reach for the wardrobe to hold for balance, my hand slips. He’s quick to grab my arm, making a grunting sound when pulling me up. He’s got fast reflexes for someone who’s drunk so much. As I get my balance back, he grabs a pack from his pocket, opening it and letting me pull a cigarette out. 

“Got a lighter?” I ask. He smiles, taking the cylinder off my hand and holding it up to my lips. His eyebrows rise, and I take it as a sign to part my lips, leading to him placing cigarette in my mouth. His hand grabs hold of my chin, pulling me closer. He leans over, letting his burning end touch the end of mine. 

“Inhale” he whispers between teeth. I comply, lighting my own through his. I stare up at him, locking eyes. He doesn’t move away. Instead, his thumb shifts from my chin to my lips, caressing lightly. I’m drunk, he’s drunk, we don’t know what we’re doing. I pull away, away from his face and hand. 

“So we didn’t need a lighter” I say, leaning over to the window and blowing the smoke outside. He stands beside me, leaning over so we’re in the same position, arms brushing against each other. 

“You’re cold”, he tells me, looking up worried. His hand moves to my arm, grabbing. He’s warm, too warm. I sigh when he touches me, involuntary. Fuck. I blush, hoping he thinks my redness is due to the cold. 

“I don’t feel it”, I respond. A lie, but it’s okay. I’ll survive. 

“Damn, drank that much?” he says, walking over to the closet. 

“Not my fault”

“Really”, he sounds surprised. Walking back to me, a flannel shirt in hand. 

“The others are plotting” I state, as I put my hands out, letting him put it on me. When he finishes, he doesn’t button it, but leaves it open. 

“Plotting what?”

“Trying to get us together”

“Really? My sisters’ are in it too?”

“At least one of them”

“Shameless people. Trying to get her brother and best friend together”

“Yeah I know” I laugh, turning away and looking out the window once again. I take a few more drags of the cigarette, using too long, making it almost go out. He starts a new conversation. 

“You know, I thought about asking you out once”. I look surprised at him, he has his signature smirk plastered on. It’s my turn to be curious. 

“And?” He turns to me, looking down, I don’t know if he’s looking down my shirt or on my waist. 

“Well, friend group shit. Didn’t want to fuck it up”. My heart falls a bit, a heavy feeling in my chest. 

“Smart choice” I manage to answer. 

“I guess”. He sounds oddly disappointed, and I force myself to be more forward. 

“Especially since I would’ve said yes”

“What?” he asks, taking my cigarette and throwing it out the window. 

“Hey!”

“It was basically out anyway. But are you for real?” he continues, brows furrowed, and hands grabbing my shirt on each side of my waist. My face gets hot, arms wanting to feel him. 

“Yeah-”. Before I’m able to fulfil my answer, he drags me into him, chest to chest, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss. Shocked, I pull away, walking a few steps back. I still hold onto the counter for balance, looking at him. He’s breathing heavily, a bit surprised by my response, and a little hurt. 

“Sorry, I got the signs wrong” he says, looking down. I take a breath, calming myself. 

“Is this a prank?”

“What”

“Is this a prank?” I say a bit louder, nearly shouting. Probably I am, I just don’t realize it. 

“Why would you think that?” he asks, a bit angry. 

“Because Jess and Emily were talking about some type of prank and people were getting me drunk and-” I ramble, breathing starting to get unsteady. I’m unsure about how to continue. I’m getting dizzy, needing to lay down. Josh notices. As my vision goes blurry, arms take hold of me, quickly moving me to the bed. My head is pounding, but the room doesn’t spin as much anymore. An arm is holding my head up a bit, and I feel a cold glass touch my lips. Instinctively I open my mouth, drinking the whole glass of water. He lays down beside me, and I can feel myself drifting off. 

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside. Josh is sleeping, so I make my way to the bathroom. The nausea is catching up, and I make myself vomit. Several times. Luckily, this means I’ll probably be spared in the morning. My head feels lighter, in a good way. When I’m done, I drink some more water and brush my teeth. I feel refreshed, and a little happy that was it. I don’t need to be stressed about being sick. 

As I walk out in the hallway again, I hear voices downstairs. They’re still up. I look at the clock, and notice I was only out for about half an hour. I decide not to join them. I’ve gotten enough tonight. As I make my way in the hallway, I notice Josh’s door which I didn’t close behind me. I walk over, looking inside. Josh is up, sitting on the side of his bed with his head in his hands. I walk inside, closing the door behind me. He doesn’t turn. 

“Hey” I say, trying to put on a light tone. 

“Hey”. His voice is emotionless, nothing to analyse, nothing to take from it. I walk over, sitting down in front of him on my knees. He still doesn’t look at me, only right down between his legs. 

“Can we talk?” I ask. He finally lifts his face, looking into my eyes. Before I can begin, he starts. 

“Do you really think I would do something like that?”

“What?”

“Toying with your feelings. Being part of Jess’ and Emily’s schemes?” Now it’s my turn to look down, shame filling my chest. 

“I was so drunk Josh, still am, but I panicked, and spiralled…” I feel a tear run down the corner of my eye. I was not planning on crying, but this night had been more eventful and emotional than most. He doesn’t hesitate to dry them, catching each one with his thumbs. 

“I know, now I’m the one spiralling, sorry” he whispers. I lean forward, hugging him around his waist. He hugs me back. 

“I didn’t mean to pull away”, I explain, not being brave enough to look him in the eyes while confessing. He pulls me away, looking at me. I can’t decipher his face, something hopeful maybe, but not too much. It’s now or never, I must tell him. Before he can ask, I get up, lean forward, and kiss him. He doesn’t back away, instead he grabs my thighs, leading me on top of him, still on the edge of the bed. The kiss is sloppy, as we’re still drunk and a bit dizzy. His hands wander to my waist, grabbing hold of the top of my bottoms. I bite his bottom lip, making him grunt in response. 

“Fuck” he mutters. Grabbing harder, making me gasp. He uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth. I let him. He moves his hands, signalling me to grind on him, and I do. I want him. Bad. My body warms up, the window’s still open, but I can’t feel the cold. As I move on him, he pulls off his own flannel, before dragging my shirt off. I do the same to him. Feeling him up from the lower part of his muscular stomach to his shoulders. My breathing quickens, feeling every curve of his body with my fingertips, trying to memorise it all. He's warm, tense but calm, and I melt into his touch. I lean forward to capture his lips again, and he meets me halfway. I can feel myself getting wetter by the minute, and before I know it, he turns us around, laying my back on the bed, hovering over me. He leans down again, kissing my collar and neck. I can’t help the whines that come out of me. I feel needy, hot. I need him. He stops by my breasts, looking up. 

“Do you want this?” he asks. 

“Yes Josh, please. I want you” 

He smiles in response, and I can’t help but mirror it. 

***

Loud bangs are heard on the door. I wake up with a headache, but luckily no nausea. I poke Josh, making him wake up abruptly, grabbing his head, a painful look on his face. His headache seems worse than mine. 

“Someone’s in the hallway” I say, leaning down and kissing his head. 

“Fuck” he whispers. “Let’s get this over with”

“What is it?” he shouts through the door. 

“Josh, we need you!” I hear Mike shout. “Your sisters are missing!”

[nikoniclove]

Hi!! I saw a TikTok caption that went: “She groans in your ear, I just know it” About Emily. And I’d love to read something like that, with Emily being so horny she can’t function and Ace helps her

Emily’s losing her ever loving mind. Normally this is JJ’s realm. That woman’s libido is not to be trifled with, and whatever it is, Emily feels infected by it. 

It started when she was on a solo assignment, helping the prosecution on a case in LA. When she called JJ and Ace, they were ready for bed, and the satiated, flushed shared looks were so obvious. It made her immediately hot. Her mind, excellent at conjuring up images and scenarios in lifelike detail, did just that. It was so easy to picture her lovers together. That night, her dreams were filled with raunchy, salacious scenes featuring her favorite women and how they would include her upon her return. When Emily woke up, her hand was down the front of her pajamas. Instead she took a cold shower and dressed in her court-ready suit. 

If she thought the morning would bring her a reprieve, she was sorely mistaken. A blonde woman at the courthouse caught her attention, and Emily nearly drooled recalling JJ in a very similar outfit. Snug, black pencil skirt so perfectly fitting. Black blazer. White button down with just enough buttons open. The black heels completed the look. In her mind, JJ winked at her teasingly. Emily sloshed coffee onto the counter because she was so distracted. The heat and the splashed sound effect were enough to bring her back to the forefront. 

It was like that all day long and into the next day. Someone with a braid, however similar to Ace’s, would walk by, and Emily imagined holding it firmly, using it to direct Ace during a scene. That was a dangerous train of thought because dom-sub scenes offer no shortage of erotically charged fodder for a horny mind. Grumpy and desperate, Emily took care of matters that evening at the hotel, but it did little to soothe the ache. In fact, it only made her think of the times she has watched JJ work her fingers between her legs or instructed Ace in exactly how to touch herself. 

The entire plane ride home Emily jittered. Her body thrummed with energy, and it needed an outlet. Given the time, she knew she had to return to work, but work also meant Ace and JJ. One of them, maybe both of them, would certainly help her take care of her arousal problem. Or at least simmer it down to something more manageable until they were all at home. 

The bullpen was empty though. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Reid and Morgan were there, but notably Emily had no use for them. Reid sweetly tried to engage her about the trial, but Emily can’t think past finally being in the same building as her girlfriends. She managed a feeble greeting before she rushed off to the east-most women’s restroom, texting the group message to summon them there. Ace responded with a thumbs up. 

Emily paced. Losing her goddamn mind because she was horny in every nerve of her body. 

——

“Hey, you!” You’re excited to see Emily. She’s been gone three days, and you missed her. You don’t expect the immediate onslaught of her lips against yours, your back roughly pressed against the closest wall. Her proximity muffles your surprised moan. The fasten of your slacks provides no resistance, and you gasp when her fingers curl in the front of your underwear. “Stall, Em,” you gasp. 

“Don’t care,” she growls, desperation dripping off her tone in a way you rarely hear. “Need you right now. Right now, Ace.” 

“Stall,” you repeat. Emily grumbles her displeasure, even as she maneuvers you into the large handicap stall at the end. Once it locks behind you, you give into whatever she wants. Her need is contagious, and you feel like you’re being devoured, the way she licks and kisses at your neck. “Something’s got you fired up.”

“You have no idea.” Her words are muffled against your neck. Her hands are everywhere. Her thigh is strong between your legs. With a quick rotation, you pin her to the bathroom wall. Her eyes widen in surprise because that’s not a move you use regularly. You sink to your knees, ignoring the hard tile of the FBI bathroom. If Emily is desperate enough to fuck you in the bathroom without even a stall for coverage, she needs real relief; lucky for her, you’re a pro at this now. With her slacks and panties down just far enough, you slip your tongue between her folds, happily lapping at her wet heat. “Oh fuck, love,” she groans, tightening her fingers in your hair. The first is quick and fast. Emily is too keyed up for anything else. She just needs some direct stimulation. It feels so powerful to have her at your mercy like this. Half-dressed, panting, legs spread as much as the slacks around her thighs will allow, her head tipped back. You ease two fingers inside her pussy, curling them just so. “Oh goddamnit, that feels good.” You find a hard rhythm while your tongue strokes and circles her clit. There’s no doubt you’re going to have to redo your braid with the way her fingers are clinging to your hair. You look up at her through your lashes, reveling in the way Emily shivers and twitches at the eye contact. 

The bathroom door opens, and Emily covers her mouth with her hand. She’s out-of-her-mind horny and very much not in the mood for a sit-down with HR. But the clack of the heels is familiar, a cadence you and Emily know by heart. You pull your hand free to unlock the stall door. JJ moans softly as she slips in and locks it again. “Hi,” JJ greets, her blue eyes impressively dark. 

“Hey,” Emily rasps. “Ace, back to what you were doing.” You add a third finger, and Emily bites out a shaky groan. “Fuck, just like that, love. Make me come.”

“Again,” you taunt mostly for JJ’s benefit. 

“Yes, again. Fuck, I need it.”

JJ leans against the wall, directing Emily’s chin. “We missed you,” she breathes against Emily’s lips. You can tell from Emily’s stuttered sound that JJ bit her bottom lip. JJ swallows any other noises Emily makes as you fuck her. When she comes again, the two of you keep Emily’s body stabilized - your hand firmly against Emily’s stomach and JJ’s arm wrapped tightly around Emily’s upper body. “Welcome home,” JJ whispers, nuzzling Emily’s neck while the older woman catches her breath. “What made you so horny? Huh?”

“Your fault,” Emily groans. 

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear. Do tell, Agent Prentiss. How is it my fault?”

“Your libido rubbed off on me while I was in LA.” 

The blonde can’t help but laugh. She offers you a hand to help you off the floor before pulling you in for a kiss; she adores being able to taste Emily on your tongue. “We’ve still got a good bit of the day left,” she reminds Emily. “Think about all the ways we can really welcome you home when we have our privacy and our toy chest.”

“You’re the worst, Jennifer,” Emily bites out grumpily. The dual orgasms certainly helped quell the desperate urge, but all of JJ’s teasing and imagery is building it right back up again. 

“Probably,” JJ agrees with a chuckle. “But it’s so fun, and you’re such an easy target when you’re like this.” 

Emily can’t wait for this day to be over. 

[angel-of-the-moons]

You can definitely ignore this little thingy if you feel uncomfortable buttttt,,,,,,, do you think Steven would like the idea of being bred? Now, breeding is cool and all I love anything that has to do with it but what if it was the opposite? Like, instead of yn it was character? (Doesn't have to be amab specifically lol cuz fake cum is a thing) but like it specifically thinking of Steven having a breeding kink, both ways not just once ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ sorry if this is not your usual type of requests or food for thought haha 😞

Okay this has been sitting in my box for a while but I finally got an idea for it asfjdlndlnd

Sorry if it's like, all over the place and not as detailed as my other stuff :'> I might come in and edit it in the morning when I'm more awake!

A Little Strange

Steven Grant x Fem! Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Flat out smut, pegging, creampie (sorta), spanking(?), Steven is a crybaby, punishment, Sub!Steven, Top!Reader Reader has some hair that is long enough to be pushed back

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

The request your lovely, mousey, nerdy little boyfriend made of you was one you were not expecting.

Sure, you had pegged him before, but the most recent time, as you helped him ride out his orgasm, you heard him whimper and sob into the pillow; "Breed me, love--"

The poor thing was so embarrassed about it all, but after a little sit down with him, he'd explained that he had fantasized about it, imagined you with a real cock; pumping him full, letting it drip down his thighs as you pulled out...

So, you started looking into online forums, Discord servers for adult toys that gave you advice as well as some stores that did custom designed dildos with cum tubes in them, as well as prep and cleanup.

You showed the messages to Steven, showing him there was no shame in what he was thinking about and you noticed how much lighter he was.

So much so that you and Steven started looking at adult toy shops online together for the "perfect" toy to play out his fantasy.

Steven wasn't yet brave enough to enter actual shops so, that task fell to you, Steven completely and utterly trusting whatever decision you made.

However, one night, while scrolling through various product lines...

You found it.

The perfect one. Lifelike, even complete with soft foreskin--matching your very own skin tone to give Steven a bit more reality in imagining that you were going to be the one to fuck him full of cum, not some obnoxiously-colored hunk of rubber.

You bought some warming lube, the fake cum, a new harness to accommodate the tube as well as a vibrator you could insert into yourself. After all, if he was the only one getting off, it wasn't much fun if you didn't, too...

You loved Steven for that. Your pleasure was always his, too.

You looked at him questioningly as you adjusted the harness, "If you're not sure about this..."

Steven had practically been drooling, watching you slip the silicone dick into place. Hell, it looked so life-like he had to blink for a moment to remind himself it was just a toy.

Not that he would have minded the real thing, per se...

He nodded, a little too enthusiastically; making his wispy raven curls bounce back down in front of his forehead, "Y-Yeah, love... I'm good. So--so good. Um--yes. Comfortable, I mean. That is, I'm--"

"Steven." You laugh softly, taking his cheeks in your hands, noticing how he leaned in on sheer instinct alone; as if your comfort was the one thing he needed most in the world.

"Baby, sloooooow down."

You boop your nose to his, making him laugh in return, an obvious red hue to his cheeks. His tongue gets his lips before he speaks, "Right, sorry. Excited, is all."

"I know." You say gently, brushing your fingers through his hair to push some of his curls back. You kissed his cheek and leaned in just a bit more, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hand pressed firmly against the bulge in his sweatpants.

"How do you want my cock, Steven? How do you want me to fuck you?"

The way he shudders visibly makes your toes want to curl and your pussy clench around the toy seated comfortably within you. It was off... for the moment.

"I--ah--a-all fours. From behind." He breathes, pressing his cheek into yours.

"Good boy." You purred, grazing your fingers along his jawline so you could tip his gaze upwards to meet yours.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asked quietly.

"Oh, me?" You giggled, turning away, noticing how his gaze immediately fell to the way the dildo flopped as you sauntered your hips over to your shared dresser. You decided to spare him a quip, and grabbed a small remote.

You walked back over to him and placed the device in your hand.

And Steven, being the wonderfully curious goober that he is... pushing the button at the top, turning the vibrator on at full force.

The unexpected sensation made you squeak and squeeze your legs together; you hands cradling your midsection as your face erupted in a vibrant flush.

"W-wait!" You whined as you doubled over.

"Oh, bloody--I'm sorry!" He floundered, frantically trying to turn it off--accidentially hitting several buttons in the process so you suddenly were barraged with decreases in frequency, pulses, and even warmth--until he finally managed to succeed.

You panted as the sensations finally subsided, a sticky wet heat soaking the crotch of the harness, leaking out around the vibrator tucked snugly within you.

"Take off your pants and get on your knees." You said, your mouth twitching into a smirk.

"You are in so much trouble for that!"

"I'm s-sorry--" Steven hiccuped as you withdrew your hips oh-so slowly, your eyes watching how the strap-on sunk back in welcomingly past his tight rim of muscles.

His ass cheeks were red and swollen from the spanking you had given him--you didn't actually start fucking him with it until he was drooling and crying into the pillow he had tucked against his chest, his cock a weeping mess into the blankets below.

You didn't even let him touch himself.

You pressed the toy in as deep as it would go, pressing your hips down hard until you were grinding against his prostate; Steven whining and babbling the most filthy things as he chewed his pillow, begging for you to just move, to go just a little faster.

"You want me to go faster, baby?" You coo'd, pulling back just to slam home once again, grinding in deep.

"Ye-eeeeh-eeessss!" He cried.

You huffed, pushing back some of your hair that had gotten stuck to your sweaty forehead as you smoothed your hand up the curve of his arched spine, your fingers easily swiping through the rivulets of perspiration that flowed down his skin.

"Shh, shh, I'll give you what you want..." You murmured, leaning in to pepper soft kisses across his trembling shoulder.

He had been behaving since his "punishment"... You figured he deserved a bit of a reward.

So, you pried his tight-fisted fingers open and slipped the controller to your vibrator into his sweaty grasp.

"I want you to cum. And I want you to make sure I do at the same time. If you forget and don't let me cum..." You curled your fingers under his chin, scraping his messy stubble with your nails slightly, making his Adam's apple bomb as he swallowed the lump sum of saliva that had been gathering in his mouth.

"I--I will! Or--I w-won't? I..."

"Just make sure I do, baby. Can you do that for me?" You murmured against his ear, taking the lobe between your teeth and biting down softly.

"I--y-yes..." Steven sobbed.

"Yes..?" You hummed as you pulled back.

"Yes ma'am." He gasped as he felt the dildo inch its way out of his hole.

"Good boy." You praised him, your teeth snagging your lower lip as you feel him turn the vibrator inside of you on at a nice, comfortable setting.

Comfortable, but not what you wanted.

You thrust into him in a nice, deep, steady rhythm, groaning as you watch his hole clench and try to drag you deeper.

You almost wished this was your real cock, just so you could feel how his walls clenched and gripped--desperately trying to urge you along and deeper inside of him.

A moan was torn from your throat; as you thrusted in and out of Steven, the toy would nudge at a delicious angle to just barely catch at your g-spot.

"Steven, higher..." You panted, planting one foot down on the bed as you increased your pace.

You probably should have given him a bit more time to process your request before you began to fuck him harder, the poor man. He was a babbling mess of drool and tears, and you were relentless--pounding into his ass with vigor and energy he barely had in reserves.

His thumb shakily found it, and your breath punches from your lungs when it is turned to the highest setting on a steady pulse to almost match your rolling hips.

"F-fuck!" You groaned, gripping the soft fat on his hips for more leverage to fuck him harder, the vibrator inside of you moving around in your gummy walls, massaging you wonderfully from within, driving your impending climax closer as the seam of the leather harness you wore ground against your clit with every movement.

"'m gonna c-cum, love." Steven moaned loudly, his head lifting from the pillow.

"God--ahh!--are you?" You huffed back, your eyes rolling a little as the vibrator pulses harshly within you.

Maybe you'd chosen your toys a little too well... Neither of you were going to last at this rate. Pity. And here, you wanted to play with him just a bit longer.

Oh, well... Maybe next time you could cockwarm him; slowly fill him up with fake cum until he was begging to ride your cock. Maybe fill if with flavored lube and have him give you a blowjob? So many possibilities...

You reached down and grabbed the pump from your harness--your hand lightly squeezing it to let the fake cum solution work its way up the shaft as you moaned for Steven.

You hear a furious slide of skin as you realize he'd slipped his free hand below, stroking his flushed, fat shaft as you fucked him from behind. He'd get a punishment for breaking that rule.

He hiccuped, a broken and shattered moan coming from his soft and sweet lips was like music to your ears; making your heart skip a beat in your chest.

Later. He'd get one later.

"J-just a little more, baby--you can hold on long enough for me, can't you?" You sighed, swallowing hard to try and keep your voice level as your orgasm threatened to wash through you.

Your only reply was a choked-out whimper, your name leaving his mouth like a prayer as he sniffled; his hand on his dick slowing just a fraction to allow your budding climax to swell and bloom.

"Love, please." Steven pleaded, his hand dropping the remote to your toy--leaving it on the setting that already had your toes curling--as he gripped at the sheets blindly, drooling into the pillow once again.

"You want me to fill you up, Steven?" You moaned (perhaps a little too theatrically) your hips moving in a sharp blur; chasing every backwards jerk of his hips as much as every graze of that seam against your swollen clit.

"Want me to breed you, baby boy?"

"F-fuck--yes!" He almost bellowed

"Mmmm--" You panted, leaning down to press your chest against his back, his skin almost searing against the flesh of your breasts, "Make me cum, baby."

Steven continued to whimper and sob, arching and rolling his hips back to meet your thrusts, the jostling and tugging of the strap making those flames of pleasure lick up your spine as the vibrator pulsed and buzzed inside of you; the heat pooling in your belly battering down the walls of your self restraint.

Steven gasped and twitched, his hand going still for a moment on his dick as the first thick rope of his cum shot from the tip, coating the sheets and his hand as he picked it back up again.

You kept pumping inside of him--the sight and sound of him coming undone making your muscles go taut and flex as your own orgasm washed over you, his sweet voice muttering your name again and again as his cum began to soak into the fabric below him.

You barely had enough focus to remember the pump in your hand. You thrust once, twice, and on the third and final thrust your hand squeezed a final time, your "cum" shooting from your cock and flowing into him.

And, oh, the sounds leaving his mouth were downright sinful. They surely would have blocked any person from reaching the gates of heaven had they been uttered by a holy man.

Well... maybe holy in a different kind of religion...

As your hearts stilled, you slowly pulled out of him and watched as the white fluid dripped from his twitching hole and rolled away, onto your back as you panted for sweet oxygen--the bedroom felt so hot and humid. The smell of sweat and sex soaked into the very molecules of air between you.

You rolled onto your side as Steven collapsed, your fingers shakily reaching for the remote to turn off your vibrator as your body shuddered to a stop, the aftershocks of your orgasm finally washing away like the tide.

"You alive?" You huffed at him, reaching out to comb your fingers through his soaking wet curls.

He turned his face to you, then, a blissed-out smile on his face as he blinked his adorable little doe-eyes at you.

"I... ah.... better than okay." He mumbled, reaching out to grasp your hand in his. "You?"

"I think I found a new favorite hobby..." You grinned at him as you wiped sweat from your brow.

"Oh... I'm right properly fucked, aren't I?" He joked tiredly.

You leaned over and kissed his temple, where the vein throbbed beneath your lips.

"Oh, absolutely."