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trashytracktales · 8 months ago

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Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

🌸 summary ──── They’ve been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

🌸 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🌸 rating ──── explicit

🌸 category ──── F/M

🌸 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior.

🌸 word count ──── 3.6k

🌸 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

IT DOESN’T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco’s streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it’s the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn’t match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive, with his curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he’s clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won’t go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando’s imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a mellow tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn’t even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn’t have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it’s been there ever since, forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she’s having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent, he’s just respectfully looking, until it isn’t.

Until he feels it in his boxers.

Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it’s natural and that he’s just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It’s his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what’s going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he’s in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck that’s slowly rising to her cheeks. Her heart is starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it’s not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there’s nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison, a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety; deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing gently over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That’s his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he’s hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes. It’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn’t real?

But if that’s heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good, much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan…,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she’s so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that’s even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn’t started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it’s a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window. Or that’s what she thought. Confused at first, she’s frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants: a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal, so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around him.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lando,” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feels so good, shit,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won’t match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Mhm,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it’s way too slow, even for him.

It’s simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can’t believe I lasted that long. Should’ve fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he’s just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would’ve let me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver’s room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club. Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You… stressed about work. I didn’t want to be… distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. “Oh. Yes, like that!”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I’m so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando’s hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she’s being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she’s so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it’s too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings whatsoever. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We’re so fucking matching, baby. Let’s gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle. “I’m just so happy for us.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that’s you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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yuujispinkhair · 9 months ago

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its time for single dad!kuna and his albino kiddo, uraume x elementary teacher!y/n

OMGGG THAT SOUNDS SO COMFORTING AND SWEET 💗😭 Okay I had to write this! I hope you like it!

Single Dad!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. 800 words. Divider @/chilumitos

When you start your job at the new school, everyone warns you about a certain pink-haired, tattooed dad.

"Oh you have Uraume in your class? Well, good luck then."

"Why?"

"Oh, it's not the child that is the problem. It's the dad!"

Your coworkers tell you about this huge, grumpy man who always barks out orders and complains left and right the whole time because he thinks his child isn't getting treated correctly.

When you first meet Sukuna, you really are intimidated by him. He is tall and muscular, almost filling out the whole doorway and towering over you. A very attractive man, but scary with those tattoos that tell you he must lead a life in crime or at least must have been involved in something like that at some point. He sneers at you while his eyes sparkle threateningly,

"A new teacher, huh? I sure hope you will do a better job than the ones before you. I won't accept any carelessness when it comes to looking after my child!"

Sukuna's voice is harsh, and his gaze is full of anger. But you listen patiently to him and realize that this is just a man who is worried about his child. A child who doesn't really have any friends and is sick all the time and gets bullied for it.

You can understand Sukuna. Can understand the helpless anger you see in those maroon eyes. Like a tiger who is ready to kill for his cub but doesn't know how to handle the everyday tragedy of his child being an outcast in school.

You smile warmly at him and tell him in a soft voice,

"I understand that, Mr Itadori. You are worried about Uraume. I promise you that I will have a close eye on them. I won't look away when someone bullies them. Uraume is a lovely child and amazing the way they are. I will do my best to guide them on their way to becoming a confident and happy person. Thank you for coming to me with your worries."

And you see this big, bad, angry man falter and blink at you in confusion because, apparently, none of the other teachers ever reacted the way you did. But he catches himself after a moment and tells you he will watch you closely before he leaves without a farewell.

You keep your word and look after Uraume, praising the child for the exercises they excel in and sitting the whole class down to discuss with them that it's not okay to make fun of others for the way they look, etc. Teaching them that everyone is different and that this is okay. You even assign group projects, where you pair Uraume up with some kids who you know are sweet and won't be cruel to them.

Three weeks later, you walk out of the school in the afternoon when all the kids have already left, jumping when a low voice speaks up next to you. Sukuna is leaning against the wall of the building, smirking at you, maroon eyes wandering curiously over you,

"I came to thank you, Miss. Uraume told me about how much fun they are having at school now and that they even found two little friends. They told me you are the best teacher in the world."

You break out into a big smile, eyes filled with happiness,

"I am so happy to hear that! Uraume is doing so well! I am so proud of them and so happy that they enjoy coming to school now!"

And Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. So tall and broad, but he doesn't seem all that intimidating anymore. There's a little smile tugging at his lips, and his intelligent eyes are warm when he tells you in a low, velvety voice,

"All the other teachers ignored my complaints or refused to talk to me anymore and sent me to the principal, who was just as incompetent. You are the first one who took my words into account and let actions follow. I thought this school was a hellhole, but you changed my mind."

You chuckle softly, feeling a bit flustered at the intense gaze out of those beautiful maroon eyes and the praise coming from this attractive man.

"Thank you, Mr Itadori. I am glad."

"Sukuna."

"Hm?"

"Call me Sukuna, please. It will sound nicer if you call me by my first name while we have coffee together."

And with that, his grin grows broader, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward the little café down the road, making your heart flutter excitedly as you smile back at him and nod softly,

"Yes, that sounds really nice, Sukuna."

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n

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bunnwich · 6 months ago

Text

Devourer👑(Scar!Leona x Yuu) 01

Leona got everything he wanted, except for one thing. After 7 long years of being king, Yuu comes back into his life. As Yuu finds themselves in his nightmare, will they be able to "find " Leona and wake him? Or will they both be devoured?

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. They/Them pronouns. Yuu majors in alchemy at NRC.)

Words: 5k, 3rd person Notes: A darker AU based on Leona’s Chapter 7 Dream. Part 1 of ??? Not sure if I will continue this AU but it was fun as an exercise to write a bit of more of a darker and sinister Leona for once. LMK if you like this sorta thing?

Parts: Part 1, Part 2

CW: Murder, Slight Dark themes??, Pushing of physical boundaries.

Tagging: I will be tagging in comments!

From the moment he took the throne after his brother’s death, whispers filled the kingdom, unease and ridicule trailing him like a shadow. He remained in the heart of the people as a scar of a prince on the divine oligarchy’s legacy. A black stain of spilled ink over the Sunset Savanna’s entire proud history. Once seen as a prince with little promise, he had sat as a king for seven long years now, ruling with an iron fist and a sharp tongue.

The “when” was foggy now, a few months, a year ago? Leona, as they used to know him, had personally recruited them to head an experimental “agricultural development program,” aimed at alleviating the famine gripping the kingdom. Yuu supposed he found out about their internship and majors sometime after they graduated. The years after Night Raven College had been hard and their old school life seemed almost idyllic compared to the world outside. After their friends scattered to the winds to start their own lives, Yuu had been left behind to pick up the pieces of a shattered life. Alchemy, the study of magical plants, was one of the only ways to make them feel competent in a world surrounded by people often more powerful than themself. They had gotten quite good at it, but it felt surreal to be bestowed such an “honor” from a king after so many years.

They hadn't seen Leona Kingscholar in nearly a decade after all. --

It was rounding the third hour of a meeting, and the afternoon heat was blistering. Yuu was slumped in their stone chair, mind starting to wander, eyes lulling dangerously closed. After a brief silence, a single voice broke the once-quiet discussion of the royal budget, and their trance.

“Your Highness! We cannot afford to execute this plan! This…aid program to provide outreach to the Outlands.” The council member never even bothered to look over at Yuu themselves. Even when he was implying their very existence at this council was an unwelcome one.

Seated around the oval table, each other council member avoided Leona’s piercing gaze. However, Yuu’s eyes flicked to the man seated next to them. The king was draped lazily across his chair, his expression one of equal parts calculation and boredom.

Oh? Their eyes widened, the elders rarely stood their ground with him.

“Hm? And why not?” Leona’s voice was low and menacing as his emerald eyes narrowed, deep voice cracking through the entire throne room. He was dressed in his standard black dashiki suit, its sleek fabric adorned with shimmering gold accents that seemed to catch the light with his every movement. The suit’s high collar stood proud, a dark canvas for the multiple beaded and gold necklaces that dripped over his chest.

"Your Majesty, diverting even more of our time and resources to the coastal neighborhoods is a mistake.” Councilman Griza, a giraffe beastman, braver than the rest, spoke again, his voice shaking only slightly. “Those…people have shown time and time again they are a threat to the capital. Offering aid will only embolden them, send mixed messages. Especially with how things have been as of late..." His malice made him braver it seemed, his resentment of the outlanders barely concealed.

“How convenient.” Leona sneered, slouching forward. His voice was a slow rumble, dangerous and intentional. “Of course, they’ve been aggressive. Anyone would be if they were historically treated like pests...starved, shunned, discarded.” He stood, palms slapping against the table, his claws scraping the stone discordantly. “They’ve been cornered, can't expect them not to bite.”

Each of his movements was a steady prowl as he circled the long table, his brown sash flowing across his shoulder. The councilman flinched as Leona suddenly stopped behind him, looming like a dark cloud over the man. “I think sometimes you all forget, I know what it’s like to be cast aside. And…to hunger for something denied.” His eyes scanned the table’s occupants and Yuu made sure to look down before he could make eye contact with them.

They knew their place, as the youngest and arguably least qualified…they tended to keep their mouth shut unless their opinion was asked.

He went on. “...Starve someone long enough, treat them like the dirt beneath your feet, and then when they lash out, suddenly they’re the problem? How noble of you to twist the narrative, Griza.”

Another councilman, Lord Danga, a zebra beastman, cleared his throat nervously. “With all due respect, my King, our resources are already stretched so thin this year. The Sunrise City’s people must come first, our people. Surely you can see that?”

Leona leaned forward, his sharp green eyes locking onto the man, his claws still tapping rhythmically against the back of Griza’s stone chair. “ Oh? Our people?” His voice was low and venomous. “Tell me something…Lord Danga. When you hoarded grain last season for your own settlements and let three nearby jackal villages go hungry, were those not ‘our people’? Or did they suddenly stop counting?” He shrugged.

“I-”

Leona cut him off with a sharp glare. “...And now you all want to sit here and preach to me about where my mercy should begin and end?”

An elephant beastman, emboldened by frustration, stood up. "It’s not about your mercy, Your Majesty. It’s about strategy! Strength! If we appear weak to those in the Outlands, those people will take advantage of us and our generosity as they have been the past few dry seasons!” He slammed his fist on the table.

Leona scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “Do you know what really makes a kingdom weak?” He leaned more of his weight against Griza’s chair, the legs scraping loudly across the stone floor, as he suddenly pulled the old man and his seat backwards.

The giraffe beastman in question froze and nobody spoke, even breathed. Yuu found themself barely able to swallow.

“Fear.” Leona hissed.

“Short-sighted, foolish, hypocrites who think power means hoarding everything for themselves.” He spoke slowly, his voice lowering with menace. “You all aren’t protecting this kingdom. You’re choking it.”

Griza stiffened below him, hazel eyes downcasted. Beneath his breath, he muttered something Yuu couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” Leona’s voice was sharp enough to cut.

“Hmph.” He tried to keep his lip stiff. “I... I only meant that... your father would have-”

“Go on. Finish that sentence…” Leona’s growling tone was dark, and dangerous, and his eyes glowed with a barely restrained fury.

The councilman’s lips quivered openly now, but he remained silent.

“...”

“I see. A lesson needs to be learned.” Leona exhaled sharply, his patience visibly thinning. “I don’t need comparisons, and I certainly don’t need your approval to do what’s right for my people, all of them.”

The room fell silent. Leona’s soft chuckle echoed through the room, cold and mocking. “Weak, huh?” He laid both hands on Griza’s shoulder, digging his claws into his white council member robes.

The man squealed like a stuck pig, trembling under Leona’s hand. There was no escape.

“Let me show you what real weakness looks like.”

Before any of the councilmen or Yuu could react, Leona’s fingers clenched and his knuckles turned white. He muttered a familiar incantation and the man stilled in his grip, before his body seized violently. Sand spilled from Leona’s fingertips, snaking around the old man’s face, frozen in fear as his panicked eyes darted to his peers.

It was over in seconds, he didn’t even have time to scream. No one did.

“You see,” Leona said, his tone casual as “Griza” crumbled into a lifeless heap of sand in the pulled-out chair. “True weakness is being so afraid of the past that it gets in the way of the progress of the future.” His hand made an exaggerated flourish.

He turned to the remaining council members, clapping the sand from his palms. “You call yourselves leaders, yet you sit here staring at me with your mouths agape…like frightened prey.”

He cleared his throat, sliding his claws through his dark hair casually as he paced back toward his seat. “…The coastal neighborhoods will continue to be eligible in our restoration project through the dry season.”

No one dared speak, except to echo one word.

“Yes…”

Leona nodded with finality. “Good.” He moved toward the throne’s platform, the weight of his authority filling the room as he climbed the steps, taking his rightful seat. “You’re all dismissed.” He waved.

The council members scrambled to bow before filing out, leaving Yuu alone with their new king, too stupid to move. They always heard you shouldn’t run from a predator.

While Leona stared satisfied at the pile of sand drifting from the empty chair, they forced their weak legs to work again, finally sliding from their seat at the table and retreating toward the throne’s steps. As Yuu stood rigid at the edge of the dais, their hands clasped tightly in front of them, palms sweating as they tried to still the faint tremor that betrayed their nerves.

The room felt impossibly quiet now, the air heavy with humidity and the unspoken aftermath of what had just transpired. A few feet away lay the remains of what was once Councilman Griza. a man whose leering gaze and oily words had made Yuu’s skin crawl on more than one occasion.

Now, there was nothing left of him but dust.

Their time assisting in infirmaries for their college internship taught them that death usually smelled like something: decay, burning flesh, blood but...here a man lay, as if he had been ripped from existence.

Nothing.

Yuu couldn’t bring themselves to look away from the dusty remains, though bile churned in their stomach anyway. They should have felt horror. Or grief. Anything other than this cold, detached emptiness and macabre curiosity. But Griza had been a contemptible man, a social-climbing parasite who had delighted in undermining Leona at every opportunity. Was it so wrong not to mourn him?

The silence stretched, broken only by the distant echo of footsteps as the council members continued to flee the room, their fear a tangible presence in the air. Yuu couldn’t blame them.

Their fingers tightened on the fabric of their own white robes, trembling creeping back into their hands. Drawing on every ounce of composure, they dipped into a shallow bow at the steps, the fabric of their clothing brushing against their knees. "Is there... anything else you require of me, Your Majesty?" Yuu finally asked, their voice soft but steady. Their gaze dropped to the floor as they clutched the folds of their robe like a lifeline.

Heart pounding in their chest, each beat was a sobering reminder that they were still alive...still here, unlike Griza.

Seeing them still there, Leona’s low chuckle rippled through the room, smooth as silk yet sharp enough to cut their composure.

They straightened cautiously, their gaze lifting just in time to see the king rise from his throne. When he moved, it was slow and deliberate, his footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor as he approached them.

"Anything I require?" he drawled, amusement coloring his voice. "How polite of you."

Before Yuu could respond, his clawed fingers curled under their chin, tilting their face upward. The warmth of his touch seared against their skin, forcing them to meet his piercing green gaze. Yuu’s breath hitched, their composure slipping for the briefest moment as his smirk deepened.

"You saw what happened just now," he murmured, his voice deceptively soft, almost a purr. "And this is your response?" His sharp black nail tapped on their chin, thumbing the divot below their bottom lip.

Yuu swallowed hard, trying not to think that this was the same touch that just turned a man to ash. The weight of his scrutiny pressed down on them like a physical force. His eyes searched theirs, sharp and unrelenting, as though he could strip away every carefully constructed defense they’d built. He studied their face like a puzzle he intended to solve, his smirk deepening when his eyes flicked to their hands, still pulling at the fabric of their robes tight.

“Tell me.” he started, leaning closer, the warmth of his palm seeping into their skin, a stark contrast to the cold knot forming in their stomach. "What do you really think?"

Yuu’s pulse thundered in their ears, their mind racing as they searched his face for some trace of the man they once knew. Wishful thinking. His proximity was suffocating, his presence an overwhelming force that left them no room to breathe.

No, this wasn’t the Leona they remembered, the lazy boy who had once scoffed at the pomp and circumstance of royal life.

The man before them now was a king, his sharp edges honed to a deadly point by years of bitterness and isolation. He wore his title like impenetrable armor, his every movement, and word laced with the weight of his new authority.

“I-” They looked up at him.

His hair, once unkempt and free-falling, was slicked back from his forehead, threaded with faint spirals of grey that hadn’t been there in his youth. The heavy makeup around his eyes only deepened the shadows beneath them, giving him a look far older than even his thirty-three years. His gaze seemed to be shadowed with exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

Yuu swallowed hard, their throat dry. They wanted to laugh, to make some cutting remark about personal space or his newly acquired dramatic flair. But those days were long gone. They were no one of consequence to him anymore, just another servant standing before a terrifying king. One who could crush them as easily as he had Griza.

Still, they couldn’t bring themselves to lie outright. They forced a weak, bitter laugh, the sound surprising even them. “Well…sir. I can’t say I ever shed any tears for Councilman Griza," they admitted, their voice quieter than they intended. "And I suppose I'm a little biased on the success of the restoration plan." They shrugged.

Leona’s chuckle was low and rich, sending a shiver down Yuu’s spine. His grip on their chin loosened, his hand falling away only to settle on their shoulder, still leaving char marks on their jaw. His claws lightly grazed the fabric of their clothing as he prodded them toward the throne.

"No one would," he said, his tone tinged with amusement. "The man was a perverted old bastard."

Yuu allowed themselves to be led further by their king, their steps measured as though they were walking a tightrope with him. The weight of his hand on their shoulder was impossible to ignore, a silent reminder of their wildly unbalanced power dynamic.

He stepped back, gesturing for Yuu to follow as he made his way to the throne. With a lazy grace, he dropped into the large seat, his arms draped languidly over one of the armrests as though the events of the day had taken no toll on him at all.

"C’mere." he said as casually as he might have back in school, motioning to the small space beside him. "Sit. I won't bite."

Yuu hesitated, their stomach twisting as their gaze flicked between him and the space left on the cushioned seat.

Leona’s gaze never left them, the weight of his command impossible to ignore. Slowly, they moved over, beaded sandals echoing in the large empty room. They started to lower themselves onto the left side of the throne, their hands gripping the armrest as if anchoring themselves to reality.

There was barely room for the both of them. Yuu sat down cautiously, making sure to leave at least a few inches between both their legs. They looked down at the colorful beaded bangles on their wrists and adjusted them as they settled in.

Leona leaned forward slightly, his smirk sharp. "Now," he said, his voice low, "No bullshitting. Tell me what you truly think of what I did."

Yuu’s breath caught, their pulse pounding in their throat. They met his gaze, their own expression carefully guarded, They inhaled deeply, steeling themselves. They knew the wrong answer could cost them, and so could the truth. It was a dangerous game, and they were far from certain they could win against him.

One thing was clear, there was no turning back now. He intended to play with them.

The answer was simple. He wanted them all to witness it. That’s why he did it.

"I think…" Yuu began, their voice measured, "You’re trying to prove something. To the council. To the kingdom. To yourself." The truth left their lips easier than they thought possible.

Leona’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his smirk didn’t falter. "And what, exactly, do you think I’m trying to prove?"

Yuu hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on them. They chose their next words carefully, heart racing as they stared into his sharp green eyes.

"That you’re…strong enough to lead," they said finally. "That you deserve to be here."

For a moment, the air between them was charged with unspoken tension. Then, Leona leaned back, his smirk softening into something that almost resembled a genuine smile.

"Interesting theory," he said, his tone unreadable.

Yuu couldn’t tell if that was a good thing, or if they’d just sealed their fate. They took a steadying breath, relieved that Leona seemed somewhat satisfied with their response. His sharp gaze, however, told them the conversation was far from over.

“One more thing,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “There’s something else I want to know your thoughts about.” One of his brows quirked upward.

Yuu straightened slightly in their corner of the throne, their posture still cautious. “Your Majesty?”

“You seem restless, little mouse. Tell me…what else is on your mind?” His voice was low, almost a purr, but the demand was razor-edged. “No sugarcoating it either. No filter. Honest thoughts about everything.” He held a palm in the air between them, but it felt like a trap.

Leona’s eyes tracked Yuu’s every move as they absorbed his words, seeming to just notice how they sat slightly off-center, leaving space between them and his leg.

As if any physical distance could ever shield them from his intense scrutiny.

Yuu exhaled a breathy laugh, the sound strained. Their head spun from the abruptness of his request. In the time since their arrival at Leona’s behest, he had spoken to them so sparingly, and never this directly. It was almost as if they were strangers all over again.

“Everything?” they asked, stalling for time. “That’s a lot to cover.” They hesitated before adding, softly, “I mean-” They struggled on where to begin. “It’s… good to see you, Leona. I mean…Your Majesty.” The correction felt clumsy, a verbal stumble that reminded Yuu just how much had changed. The man sitting beside them was not the same person they’d once known. The thought tugged painfully at their chest.

“Not to be uh- rude but…you do look tired…” they ventured cautiously. “I heard the Sunrise City folk have been organizing more protests. Challenging the authority of the palace.” Their voice softened. “It can’t be easy to deal with.” They diverted his question slightly, bringing up recent events.

“I mean…” Yuu’s gaze drifted to the pile of sand that had once been Griza, then back to Leona. The question tumbled out before they could stop themselves. “H-how are you…feeling?”

Leona’s expression remained impassive as he studied them and their words. No doubt he noticed how their eyes lingered on him, searching for traces of the man they’d once known.

A man he himself knew no longer existed.

He let out an irritated huff, his eyes flicking briefly to the pile of sand too. “It’s becoming more of an annoyance than an actual threat,” he said, his tone dismissive. Then his gaze returned to Yuu, sharp and unyielding. “...You really want to know how I’m feeling?”

Yuu’s ears perked up at the question, hearing the doubt in his tone. It was the most candid he’d been since their arrival. His guardedness, the impenetrable walls he’d built around himself, seemed to crack, if only slightly.

“Oh.” Yuu blinked, startled. “Yes, Your Majesty. Of course! You can… talk to me about anything.” Their words were soft, formal, yet tinged with sincerity as they nodded.

Leona scoffed bitterly, the sound carrying a weight of frustration. “...Ever since I became king, everything I had before is gone. No more days of slacking off, no more carefree moments of not giving a damn. Now, it’s just this...” He gestured lazily around the grand but empty throne room. “...the kingdom and its endless turmoil.” He paused, his expression unchanged, but his emerald eyes burned with emotions left unspoken.

“And now, I don’t even have the one thing I truly wanted.”

Yuu’s breath hitched as they watched him watching them from the corner of their vision, their carefully maintained mask slipping. “But…Your Majesty, isn’t this what you wanted?” They gestured to the ornate throne room too, its vastness a testament to his new status. “To be king?” They relaxed slightly as they spoke, a whisper of the old melancholic Leona slipping through in his words. For a fleeting moment, he felt less distant.

Leona’s lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile, wrinkles creasing around his darkened eyes. “What I wanted? What I really want…” He leaned closer, his voice low but searing. “...is to go back to when I was free to do whatever the hell I wanted. When I wasn’t stuck in this…damn throne room, surrounded by…traitors and sycophants. No one I can trust or talk to, to…be by my side.”

The honesty in his tone made Yuu’s chest tighten.

“You of all people should know that,” he said, his gaze piercing as a crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

They had wanted to keep their distance, but Leona's words landed heavy in the silence between them, the soft weight of his confession pulling their heartstrings. There was a rawness to his tone that unsettled them. As if their prior words had stirred something deep inside him, memories they had once shared, secrets only they both knew.

Leona’s broken smile felt like a ghost, haunting them both.

“I’m sorry…” Yuu looked down, their voice barely above a whisper. They wanted to…to empathize with him, but the memory of Griza’s death still hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the man he had become. “I do know, Leo-” The name slipped from their lips again before they could stop themselves. “I mean…Your Majesty.”

Leona’s scoff was softer this time, almost wistful.

"I guess...things were simpler back then, huh?" Yuu gave him a nostalgic smile as the coolness of the back of the throne soaked into their robes. The few inches between the two of them felt like a cavern now. “I…don’t envy you. Being king must be…” They struggled to find the word, a tightness in their own chest. “...lonely.” Their voice dropped.

Yuu hesitated before speaking again, the silence between them like still, uncharted waters. “...What can I do to help, Your Majesty?” They dared to ask again, creating a ripple they weren’t sure if they wanted to cause. As they met his gaze, they knew they could no longer hide the sadness they felt for him, for both of them, at how things turned ended up.

He breathed out.

“I never asked for this. I never really wanted this, ya know.” Leona said, his voice flat yet laced with an unmistakable pain.

“I know…” Yuu felt the full weight of his gaze settle on them, searching, pressing his grief onto them. His eyes flicked over their face, taking in every subtle shift of their expression, the sadness they thought they had hidden beneath a veil of stoic composure. He saw them. And they knew he saw them, mourning for what both their lives once were.

It was a silent accusation, a subtle reminder that the walls they had worked so hard to erect were not as impenetrable as they thought. And yet, there was an unsettling tenderness in his eyes that made Yuu’s breath catch, slipping like a dagger under their ribs.

“But, there’s nothing you can do, even if I wanted ya to…” he said, his voice quiet but firm, the words weighted with resignation. The tension in the air only thickened, a heavy silence; screams muffled with years of unspoken words and unhealed wounds.

Yuu’s eyes burned. They felt the sting of tears gathering, but they blinked and fought to keep them at bay, clawing at their bracelets on their wrist once more. They were unraveling at the edges, and for a fleeting moment, they feared the years of their trained professionalism would slip if they sat next to the miserable king any longer.

They couldn't break character.

"You're right, I’m sorry," Yuu confessed, wiping at their eyes with a hasty swipe of their arm. Their voice cracked as they spoke, an unintended tremor in the words. “I guess I should go, continue my work then, sir?” They stood, hoping to escape the suffocating intensity of this moment between them. “Your Majesty…” They bowed again, then stood there, waiting.

But, Leona didn’t dismiss them.

Before they could take another step, the king’s arm shot out like a whip, taking their wrist with surprising force. His touch was firm but desperate, pulling them back down onto the throne with him.

Yuu’s breath was taken from them, and before they could even process what was happening, they found themselves falling and plummeting...straight into his lap. The impact left them breathless, their heart pounding wildly against their ribs. Leona shifted his body, catching them easily and wrapping his arms tightly around their waist, pulling them flush to him, their back pressed to his chest. His chin came to rest on their shoulder, his breath warm and shaky against their skin. Without words, he buried his face in the crook of their neck, nose tip tracing their pulse point.

His smell was the same from all those years ago, cinnamon, citrus, star anise. Yuu could practically feel it, the tension and desperation pouring off him like an electric current. It was all they could do not to scream, for both of them.

“S-stay,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, crackling with emotion. “I don’t want cha to go.”

Yuu’s body went rigid, heart hammering; a frantic rhythm in their ears. The warmth of his body, the weight of his arms around them. It was all so achingly familiar, yet the desperation in his grip felt foreign. This wasn’t the Leona they had once known. His loneliness clung like a heavy shroud, smothering them both in the savanna heat. There was something darker, more urgent beneath it all now, more intense than anything they remembered, a weight, a suffocating pressure. His loneliness seeped into them, and it clung to their chest like an immovable boulder.

They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t even move.

“Your M-majesty?” Their voice trembled, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through the facade they had carefully crafted. They froze, unsure how to react, caged in the snare of his arms like a helpless animal.

“I thought…” Yuu stuttered, still breathless, their voice barely a whisper. Their sweat caused their clothes to stick to multiple points on their body. “I thought there was nothing I could do t-to help?” Their body reacted to his touch against their neck, sending involuntary shivers down their spine. The tingles ran from their chest into their legs, and they couldn’t suppress the way their body burned under his invasive touch.

Leona’s grip tightened, pulling them even closer to him. He inhaled deeply near their ear, his breath shaky against the curve of their neck. They knew he could feel how stiff they were in his arms, the way their body quivered with a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else.

They knew he could feel their hesitance, but still, they stayed.

And that seemed to be enough for him.

“...You’re the only person in this fucking place that makes me feel like….myself,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost pleading. He whispered it as if it was the world’s most important secret. “That’s how you can help.”

Yuu’s chest ached. They wanted to empathize with him, comfort him, and understand. But, there was another weight in the room that couldn’t be ignored. A man’s remains still lay near, a grim reminder of what Leona had become in their years apart.

A king broken by his choices, a man who had spilled blood. Devoured his own remorse and morals long ago. And yet here he was, like a child clinging to their robes, desperate for the comfort of a bit of human touch.

Yuu closed their eyes, torn. Every fiber of their being screamed to pull away, to remember the man he had killed with their own eyes. But the ache in their chest grew, the heaviness of his loneliness, clawing at them. It was too much to resist indulging in. They knew it was wrong, toxic even but-

The desperation he felt for them was...intoxicating.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they whispered, head light, their voice barely a breath. They closed their eyes, bracing for whatever would come next, but still, they waited, unsure if they had just stepped into a trap they would never escape from.

Leona’s body stiffened at their passive response, and a soft, almost satisfied hum escaped him.

Oh? So, he hadn’t expected them to stay on his lap, to offer any kind of comfort, but here they were: allowing him to have what he apparently so desperately wanted.

Slowly, Leona tilted his head, the outline of his lips grazing the skin of Yuu’s neck with the gentlest of touches. His grip remained tight, as though trying to anchor them both to this fleeting moment, afraid it would slip away if he didn’t.

“Say my name,” he whispered, his voice low and full of something almost frantic.

Yuu gasped, their body relaxing despite themselves. It somewhat disgusted them that they wanted to give in to him. The tension in their limbs began to loosen, and they instinctively pressed themselves closer to him, their body betraying all those emotional boundaries they had worked so hard to build.

"Leona," they murmured, their voice barely audible, a trembling whisper, just for him.

"Leona..." They repeated it as if saying his name was the only thing that could ground them both in this chaotic and messy moment.

They sensed his body react at the sound of his name, reverberating in the space around them. His chest shuddered behind their back, his grip on Yuu’s waist tightening. His claws gripped their robes to almost discomfort, trapping them even closer to him.

As he exhaled shakily, it was as if a sense of relief washed over him. Yuu felt the tension in the rest of his body release beneath them. “Again,” he whispered, broad nose tracing the shell of their ear. His voice was croaky, almost pleading.

Yuu’s heart raced, the warmth of his thighs soaking into theirs. Their breath quickened, caught somewhere between fear and longing, sweat beading on their forehead. They didn’t know how they had ended up here, sitting in the lap of the damn king after he murdered someone before their eyes. Then, offering him comfort with nothing but his name, and the weight of their body.

But here they were, and there was no turning back.

“...Leona,” they whispered a third time, sealing their fate. The name escaped their lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for the boy they once knew, the boy they had once admired, to come back. To claw his way through the cruel king he had become.

#Been plotting this one for weeks. I went a lil off the rails.💚#twst #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x yuu #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona x reader #leona twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #bunnwich writes📝

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agirlwithglam · 1 year ago

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🎀 The It Girl Lifestyle Guide 🎀

hi girlies! this guide is a part of the big series: The Ultimate It-Girlism Guide. in this mini guide i'll be including all things health, morning/nighttime routines, and more!

How to create your ideal morning / night / any other routine:

Here’s a mini step by step guide to curating a routine that works specifically for YOU, tailored to your own needs and wants. This can be for any routine u wanna create: morning, night, after school, after work, before school/ work, etc etc.

Apps / things needed:

ChatGPT (or an AI like that- it’s not completely necessary but it’s useful)

Notes app / docs app. (Or a pen and paper- this will be to write down the routine!)

Calendar app (optional tbh)

Ok so first off: decide what you want in your routine. Make a list in no particular order of what you need/ want in the routine.

Some examples:

Once you’ve created this list, you’re pretty much half way done. In this next part you can use chat GPT to make it easier, or use your own mind.

The next thing to do is: ask chatGPT to make a routine with the steps u wanted.

Make sure to mention what time your routine starts and ends. And if there’s anything you want to change, you can just ask the AI or make those changes yourself!

The last step is to write it down!

You can either write it down on the notes app, docs, on a journal/ piece of paper, anything that’s easily accessible to you. I heavily recommend writing it down somewhere, but if you dont want to you can…

Put it into your calander. This can help you be a bit more organised, but it’s not completely needed. As long as it’s written down somewhere- so you dont need to always remember it- you’re good.

Health and wellness

In this section, i will be talking about fitness, mental health and physical health. I will mention some useful tips to finally start, how to overcome procrastination, and how to take care of that area of your body.

1. FITNESS.

Numero uno: fitness! I’m not going to go yapping on about how fitness is so important- im assuming you all know that by now. But let me just remind you that staying fit is not only exercising or going to the gym everyday. It can be: running, going for a walk, playing a sport, yoga, pilates, dancing, cycling, and THE LIST GOES ON. DO anything that moves your body and gets you fit!

Here are some tips to help you get started:

Start small. Set small goals first. Set SMART goals

Choose the activities you enjoy. Like i mentioned earlier, there’s tons of ways to stay fit- cycling, running, swimming, yoga, dance, sports, etc. etc. (if you like, joining a class or working out with friends can help you stay motivated!)

Stay consistent. I know i know, this is said everywhere. But there is no progress without consistency. Even if you can’t do a whole workout one day, try and do 10 jumping jacks, or 5 pushups. Do whatever you can. Remember: 1% is better than 0.

Create a vision board. You can create one yourself, or find tons of them off Pinterest. Vision boards will make the process so much more fun and will certainly motivate you.

Set a reward system. Tell yourself: if you do this high intensity workout now, you can go to the spa later or watch tv.

Find a why. This goes for like everything tbh. If your why is big enough, you are capable of doing anything (even finding that lost book that you owe the library!) basically, are you doing this to get ripped? With tons of abs, or to get strong and impress people? Or are you doing this to boost your self esteem and improve your health?

2. FOOD & NUTRITION.

Balanced diet: eat the rainbow! Meaning- eat meals with a variety of different colours. Fruits, vegetables, proteins, carbohydrates, etc. it’s completely alright to eat a chocolate, but remember: EVERYTHING IN MODERATION.

Hydration: aim for at least 8 glasses of water a day. Trust me, drinking the magical potion that is water will help you SO much! It can help you clear your skin, have pink uncrusty lips, keep you fit and soooo much more.

Mindful eating: in the book IKIGAI it is said that you should only eat until you’re 80% full. Not 100%. Why? Because the time it takes for you to digest the food will have already made you extremely full. You may even have a stomachache. Studies also show that cutting back on calories can lead to better heart health, longevity, and weight loss.

Here are some tips to manage cravings:

Find healthier alternatives. If you are craving something sweet like chocolate, have something like a sweet fruit. If you crave something salty, try nuts. If you can’t think of any, search up some healthier alternatives to it!

Create more friction for junk, and less friction for healthy. This concept was said in the book Atomic Habits by James Clear. What does it mean? Make sure that it takes a lot of energy to get the unhealthy junk food. Maybe keep them high up in a cupboard so whenever you want it you have to go get a ladder, climb up, and then get it. And keep the healthy food in easy reach. Like some fruits open on a table, etc. (also remember to keep some actually yummy healthy food like Greek yogurt or protein bars.)

Distract yourself. Go do a workout or engage your mind in a hobby that you enjoy. Basically take your mind off food.

Yummy water. Make some lemonade for yourself. Or perhaps add slices of lemon, cucumber, mint or strawberries to it for some flavours. I’d do some research on this cus i know that some combos can rly help for things like clearing your skin, boosting energy, etc.

3. MENTAL HEALTH

Taking care of your mental health is just as important as taking care of your physical health. It affects how we think, feel and act and also determines how we handle stress, relate to others, relationships, etc.

Of course there will be ups and downs for our mental health. It’s not something that you can just fix once and it’ll be good forever. No, it’s a rollercoaster. But having a “good” mental health is really important for a successful lifestyle.

Here are some tips to help you improve your mental health:

Meditation / deep breathing. I can’t emphasise how important this is. Even 1-2 minutes a day is good. Start small. You dont even need to be sitting crossed legged for this. Whether you’re in class, on a vehicle or in a stressful situation; just breathe. Take a deep breath, and out. Do it right now.

Journalling. Write. It. Out. Writing your problems and worries out is SOO therapeutic, especially when you want to calm down. There are SO MANY benefits to journalling. But remember that once you’ve ranted on the paper, tear it, rip it, and watch it burn. (Don’t keep a journal for this unless you KNOW 150% that no ones ever gonna read it. Trust me, it’s terrifying knowing that someone’s read that.) other things you can do is create a gratitude journal, so whenever you’re feeling low you can just go to it or write in it.

Self careee!! Create time for self care in your week. Because if you do that, it’s gonna be that one thing which you’ll be looking forward to each week, which will make life SO much more fun and bearable. For me, my forms of self care are watching thewizardliz or tam Kaur, reading, watching a movie at night, etc.

POSITIVE. SELF. TALK. Need i say more? What you say to yourself, is what you believe. And what you believe reflects in your external life.

Sing your heart out to Olivia Rodrigo. I swear this is actually so calming and therapeutic. Basically: express your feelings. If you’re angry at someone, feeling grief or really hurt by someone, screaming to Olivia Rodrigo songs in my bedroom is my go-to (i just make sure not to do it when others can here hehe). You can punch your pillow, scream, cry, etc.

Remember honey: this too will pass. Repeat that over in your head. This will pass. This will pass. This will pass. I know you may be going through the toughest time ever, but this too will pass. Nothing is forever. You’ve gotten through so much worse. You’ve got this.

!! Girls, please remember that these are just some tips. I am NOT a professional. If you really feel horrible every single day, go to therapy or counselling. Also contact mental health hotlines or emergency numbers if needed.

Mkay thats it! I hope this was of some value to you, and stay tuned for the next guide in the it girl series!

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bitchy-craft · 18 days ago

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PICK A CARD: your next self-love improving exercise

Hello and welcome to this pick a card! In here I will give tell you what exercise you should do to better your self-love and through there be open to love from others. I hope you all find this fun and interesting!

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Pile 1:

Stand in front of the mirror, clothed or naked doesn’t matter whatever you are most comfortable with, and look at yourself, truly see what you look like. Look at your eyebrows, your eyes, your nose, your lips, your chin, your jawline, look at all the wrinkles in your face and see all the years you have lived right through it. Look at your body, your neck, shoulders, arms and hands, look at your chest, your body, your hips, thighs, legs, ankles and feet. Look at every inch of your body in detail and truly take the time to take all of it in. Mention the things about yourself that you find prettiest about yourself, and if you find it hard to give yourself compliments mention the parts of yourself that you are okay with, or find the ‘least ugly’, whatever you wish to name it mention the most positive things you can tell about to yourself. Then, find the parts about yourself you are most insecure about, the parts you wish to avoid when looking at yourself, the parts you hide in your clothing and have tried to fix for years on end. Look at these parts of yourself and compliment them, compliment each and every part you find ugly or not worthy about yourself.

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Pile 2:

Make a journal and think of a couple of prompts for you to write about regarding self-love and having to think of yourself in a positive light. You can do this once, try to keep it up for a week or maybe even a month. The more you do this the better your self-love will become. If you find personal prompts to be too big of a step you can also make sure to do prompts about the day you had to make that a bit more positive in the end; like naming five things you liked about today. If you had a very bad day doing this exercise can make you see the positive sides of it. When it comes to journal prompts regarding self-love they really don’t have to be that difficult; think of five things you like about your appearance or personality, think of ways you show others love and how you can use this on showing love to yourself, think of things you’ve forgiven yourself for, things you’ve overcome in your life, reasons as to why you’re strong and deserving of love, or things you would do if you truly believed in yourself and weren’t insecure about it.

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Pile 3:

Catching yourself in bad thoughts is what you should try in order to do in order to really work on your self-love. You criticise yourself a lot, more than you realise, way more even. You do not notice if you call yourself dumb, insolent or a loser, you aren’t aware of any of it. You have to catch yourself cussing at yourself, calling yourself names, hurting yourself or do any other thing that talks down on you, your personality, your looks, or your skills. The moment you catch yourself try and reverse the way you think; of you call yourself ugly instead remind yourself that you’re beautiful. If you think you’re dumb call yourself intelligent. Find the positive things about the negative ones you’ve been thinking about. Other things that might also do you well would just be repeating affirmations to yourself mainly focused on self-love but can also be directed towards your overall insecurities. They don’t have to be too detailed or long; I am enough, I am proud of who I am, I am a beautiful person, I am intelligent and compassionate, I do not need to be perfect in order to be worthy of love, and I deserve as much as all those people around me I give so much to are just enough.

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leighsartworks216 · 9 months ago

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Sweet Tooth

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was nodding off while writing this cuz 1. I need a nap so bad and 2. It's just so peaceful the vibes of this fic are really nice

Edit: fixed some minor phrasing

Warnings: biting, kissing, established relationship, fluff, food/baking

Word Count: 1,771

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AO3

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No matter how long you spend with Sylus in the N109 Zone, your sleep schedule remains persistent. Sure, you stay up as late as you can to spend the night with him while he’s up and about, but the darkness, warm ambiance, and your body’s own internal clock turn against you sooner or later.

Sylus does the same for you, too. He grumbles about it, but he does enjoy spending the morning with you when you’re extra cuddly, searching for the last vestiges of your sleep before you have to get up. He’s better at staying awake, but you catch him dozing a lot, head tilted back and eyes closed as he lounges in a chair near you. It’s adorable. You love the effort you both put into trying to maximize your time together.

But today, Sylus is conked out. He was gone for most of the night and came back worn and weary. He didn’t have any visible injuries, but when you cupped his cheek and used your Evol, you could feel how drained his own was. He nearly fell asleep right there, eyes closing dangerously as he leaned into your touch and the soothing warmth of your ability. You dragged him to his bedroom, kissed his forehead, and told him to sleep. He mumbled vague threats about you waking him up, but they fell into silence before he finished any of them.

With the mansion to yourself for the day, you have to find ways to occupy yourself.

The twins and you play Kitty Cards for a bit, but they cheat so horrendously and tease you for losing, so that’s out until Sylus can sit behind you and glare at them any time their fingers try to slip more than one card from the draw pile.

You go through his books. A few are interesting; texts about Protocores and Evols stealing your attention for a time. But they have you yawning and wanting to crawl into bed with Sylus.

You even go to his dedicated exercise space, but without a partner to spar with, you don’t even work up a sweat before leaving.

Normally, you aren’t so restless. Any other time you had to spend the day with yourself, you were able to settle on something for long stretches of time, even into the night if you weren’t careful. Now, you can’t sit still for 30 minutes.

You check the time. 9:56. It’s not even 10 yet and you’re already struggling to come up with things to do. You fall into a couch in one of the lounge rooms with a humph, pulling out your phone and preparing to fall into a doomscroll through old Moments posts.

Fortunately, one of the first few posts is the perfect motivator not to: a recipe promising to be the number 1 rated chocolate chip recipe. You click on the article and scroll through until you reach the comments.

These are the best cookies I’ve ever had!!!

mmmnn wanna eat the dough raw its sooo gooooood

Tossing my store-bought cookies out rn I will only be making these from now on

It seems promising enough… You look at all the ingredients you need. It also seems simple enough for you to manage without burning the place down. You’d be surprised if the kitchen wasn’t already stocked with everything listed. But just in case…

You head down to the kitchen where the chef is coming up with meal suggestions for dinner. He’s jovial, always red in the cheeks and bright eyed. You wonder how he got hired on. You ask for help gathering the ingredients you need, and he’s happy to bounce from cabinet to fridge getting everything. Once they’re all laid out on the counter, you thank him and ask if you can have the kitchen to yourself. He bows and tells you to have fun, going over his list of notes as he leaves.

You turn the oven on, setting it to the correct temperature and letting it preheat. You forgot to ask the chef about bowls and measuring cups, but you find them easily and set them on the counter with the ingredients. Once you have music playing (quietly) on your phone, it’s easy to lose yourself in the process.

The world hones in on each step. You measure out the flour and sugars, mixing them together with a whisk. Without any preplanning, you have to soften the butter in the microwave before you can add it. Eggs are cracked against the countertop, calcium-rich shells scraping quietly as you set them aside to throw away later. A dash of vanilla, and a generous amount of chocolate chips, and the dough is ready.

You find a couple baking sheets and line them with parchment paper. As you roll small amounts of dough in your hands, you bounce on your feet, excited to taste your sweet treats in just 15 short minutes. You pinch off a little extra from one dough-ball and pop it into your mouth. If this was a preview for the finished product… You hurry to get them into the oven and set a timer.

To distract yourself from constantly checking the time, you clean up your mess. You put away what you remember the designated locations of, and set the rest aside for somebody else to deal with.

Hm, you should probably leave some for the chef, as a thank you for letting you borrow the space. And save a few for Luke and Kieran, or else they’d bug you for “forgetting” them for the rest of your days.

You open up cabinets until you find plates. There’s a set, the perfect size to divide the batch of cookies between three parties. You reach for it, stretching to be on your tip-toes. You gasp as a hand comes into your vision. When you try to back up, you hit a wall of muscle. A clingy wall of muscle, if the way his arm wraps around your waist and holds you there is any indicator. He grabs a plate from the stack.

“Ah, I need three,” you quickly tell him. He sighs, but does as you say, bringing down three plates and setting them on the counter. As soon as his hand is free, you’re being fully embraced by Sylus, both arms holding you close to him as he presses his face into your neck. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair. “Did I wake you up?”

It doesn’t seem like he’ll answer for a moment, until he breathes in deeply and presses a soft kiss along your shoulder. “No. I could smell whatever you’re making through the whole mansion.” His voice is quiet and rough, affected by his slumber.

You smile and turn your head to kiss his forehead. “I’m making cookies,” you say. “They’ll be done soon. I was gonna leave some for the chef and the twins. But most of them will be just for us.”

You glance at the timer, anxious to know how much time is left, but you still have several minutes before you need to worry about it. You tap his arms and he reluctantly loosens his hold, enough for you to turn around and hug him back. His arms tighten once more.

“You’re clingy when you’re tired, you know that?”

He huffs a laugh against your skin. “As if you haven’t insisted on having me carry you around everywhere before because you were, quote, ‘too tired to walk anymore.’”

You tug playfully at his hair. He groans and bites your neck. It’s not harsh, but it does sting. You’re sure it’ll leave a mark regardless.

“Now you’re just being mean,” he growls.

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Only a little. I think it’s cute.”

He doesn’t answer. His teeth nibble lightly along an invisible path, interspersed with light kisses. One of your hands combs through his soft hair, scratching his scalp lightly as you pet him. The other trails slowly along his back, side, and around to his stomach, searching for injuries hidden beneath his clothes. He notices, but he says nothing.

“Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He pulls his mouth from your skin, finally lifting his head to look down at you with half-lidded eyes. The striking red of his irises seem softer right now, like the delicate plumage of a cardinal. “I’m alright.”

You study his face, as if you’d know if he was lying to you. But you believe him. So you nod and press a feather-light kiss to his lips. He sighs at the contact, like he’d never been touched so sweetly for hundreds of years. It’s such a beautiful sound.

The oven’s alarm startles you out of the moment. Sylus groans with a frown, letting you go and stepping away until his back hits the kitchen island. Your hand squeezes his side apologetically before you pull away.

You don a couple of oven mitts and open the oven door. The cookies are all aligned on the baking sheets, golden brown and slightly oozy from the overkill of chocolate you added. You excitedly pull each pan out and set them on the stovetop, before turning off the oven.

The recipe says to let them cool for five minutes… but you don’t have the patience for that today. You grab one of the plates from the counter and a spatula from a drawer, and carefully deposit some cookies onto the plate. You’re positively beaming when you bring them over to Sylus, holding the plate up to him.

“Want one?”

He hums. “Yes, but…” He takes the plate from you and sets it behind him. “You’ll burn your mouth if you eat one now.”

You half-heartedly glare up at him. “C’mon, Sy, I’ll be careful. I worked hard on these!”

“And you can stand to wait a few more minutes to taste the fruits of your labor, sweetie.”

“You just want more cuddles, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He grins. “Is there any better way to pass the time?”

You sigh, long and dramatic. But you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, right over his erratic heartbeat. He tangles a hand in your hair this time, cupping the back of your neck to hold you in place.

He feels the exact moment you go to reach for the plate and snatches your hand away from it, holding it captive by intertwining your fingers together. “Sneaky, but I’m not tired enough to pull that trick, kitten.”

You chuckle and press your nose against his septum. “It was worth a shot.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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ghostgirl-22 · 21 days ago

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heyy i literally love ur work and i’ve been seeing some posts abt this on tiktok but do u think u could write a professor!mike faist or art donaldson x student!reader and make it so he’s tutoring the reader but things go south and things get freaky 👅👅

hmm okay so i did peep the mike faist of it all but I couldn’t bring myself to go full rpf. So here’s theater professor!Mike Faist Art Donaldson. Or whatever <3

Pairing: theater professor!art (imagine these clothes but dilf!art hair lol) x afab!reader

cw: heed the warnings. NSFW, MDNI, age gap— Art is at least in his 40s reader early 20s, power imbalance— student/teacher, tw: dubcon if you squint. reader definitely wants this but also arts definitely perving. Improper use of Shakespeare. what it says in the ask.

—-

Theater professor!Art tall, a bit nerdy, he’s chronically late so he walks fast. He’s always a little flustered as he enters the theater, crossbody messenger bag slung over his shoulder, with his helmet tucked under his arm (for his scooter ride to work, he’d never ride a motorcycle…too unsafe). He wears some variation of a long sleeved button down with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into some varied color of khaki pants nearly everyday and he’s everyone’s favorite teacher. And it’s not just because the class is easy.

Lots of students take his course who have little to no respect for the fine arts. All different majors and minors. He knows why they enroll. He’s used to pretty girls (and boys) basically half his age sitting up front to try and get his attention and he knows what the student body says about him. He knows all about the PILF list (professors I’d like to…) he even happens to know he’s sitting quite near the top of that list. Just behind his ex Tashi Duncan who teaches classical literature and oscillating back and forth with his other ex Patrick Zweig who happens to be every business major’s favorite Economics professor. He still finds it odd that they’re dating now. Whatever.

It’s not an easy class by the way.

Especially not for you…

Intro to Fine Arts is impressively difficult. You’re pretty sure you’ve probably become Shakespeare's biggest hater over the course of the semester. You don’t understand a word of it and what’s worse is that you don’t care.

Art can tell.

Usually it wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t care if his students don’t like Shakespeare. He’s usually not involved in his students' lives at all. He’s never crossed that line. He’s not that kind of professor.

But for some reason you bother him. God. You get under his skin.

Maybe it’s because you’re so loud with your wrong opinions. You’ll argue that things mean what they don’t mean just for the fun of it. And with such confidence that you have some of your classmates believing you more than him and he has a fucking PhD in this stuff. Then you’ll sit there smug and self satisfied because you won the argument.

It’s frustrating.

You’re frustrating.

And not that he notices at all. But you are hot…in a filthy, carnal sort of way. Your lips always wet with gloss, your clothes too tight, showing off way too much skin. And he’s not looking… but honestly you know the theater is always cold. You really should start wearing padded bras if your shirts are gonna be so tight. Maybe with more support so you don’t jiggle as much during the warm up exercises that he chooses for that specific purpose. Actually you could stand to cover up a lot more, all over.

But thats not why he made you stay late for his office hours. Really. Its not. He just needs to tutor you a little. One on one. He can’t have the other students getting wrong information from you.

But even now, when you show up in his cramped windowless office, perched on the other side of his desk which is littered with playbooks, you have him stressed. you’ve been wearing that dress all day and honestly it's just too short. If you bent over his desk, even a little bit, he’d have a full view of whatever you’ve got on underneath. He shifts in his seat. It's just inappropriate.

God. He should focus on what he can teach you.“Okay try it from right here. And stop being so literal.”

You roll your eyes and glance at the Much Ado About Nothing playbook at the line where his finger is pointed. “I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap…” You laugh. “How can you die in a lap?”

“I told you the words we say today had different meanings in Shakespeare's time.”

“Well no kidding, i know that.”

Art scoffs, you know everything.

“I know we don't say thy and thou and… thent…anymore.” You continue.

”We never said thent.“ Art points out.

“What I don’t get is why any of this matters?” You keep going as if he didn’t speak.

You don’t know why you’re so combative with Professor Donaldson. You think you just like to get him worked up so you can make him remember you. You love watching his jaw tighten, his skin flush, hearing the way he passionately defends old dead playwrights. It turns you on actually. Not the dead playwrights but the way he lights up. Little bits of arrogance peeking through that sweet “aww shucks” persona everyone loves. You think it turns him on too. It makes you wet. Sometimes during class you press your legs together and slip your hand between your thighs just to ease the tension a little. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, while you tease yourself. You wish you could touch yourself right now, watching his Adam’s apple bob while his soft gaze hardens.

“It matters because the themes matter. It matters because humanity matters.” He explains trying to keep his tone measured.

“So find new themes, this guy’s been dead for a thousand years.” Also wrong.

Art can’t believe what he's hearing. And it doesn’t help that you seem flustered, breathing harder, chest rising and falling, the thin fabric of that short dress showing him everything… fuck…you might as well be naked. He’s losing his patience.

“Get up.”

“Why?”

“I'm going to show you what it means.”

You look like you want to argue (pre-law you always want to argue) but you get up from your chair anyway. “Okay?”

“Come here…” he pats his thighs. “I think you’d learn it better if I show you.” He says softly. He knows he shouldn’t… knows it’s inappropriate. But you really need to understand what words mean. He’s just teaching you, really.

You don’t even hesitate. Settling right on top of him, your back to his chest.

“Good girl. Now grab the play.”

You take a breath and wiggle a bit your ass grinding along his swollen cock. God you knew he fucking liked it.

“Don’t worry about that...” He says lightly. It’s not his fault, your dress is too short, making him hard for no fucking reason. He needs to put his hands somewhere and your bare thighs are right there. He sets his palms down and feels the way your breathing changes.

“Mmkay now read it again.”

His voice is soft and directly in your ear now, it makes you shiver. You wiggle your hips again.

“Go on,” he coaxes.

“I will live in thy heart…” you feel his hand move up to your chest.

You chew on your lip, wiggling some more as he cups you, before slipping it just inside your dress to play with your nipple. He squeezes it gently, before circling it with his fingertips. “What’s next?”

“D-die in thy lap,” you swallow.

“That’s a little more complicated, isn’t it?” He moves his other hand down your thigh. He really shouldn’t be doing this in his office. The door is closed but it isn’t locked. Anyone could walk in and catch you both. God it shouldn’t make him harder. He knows he’s not gonna stop, he’s finally had a taste of you, felt one of your full perky tits, your perfect ass wiggling along his swollen cock. He’s just itching for more. He eases his way down along your inner thighs and you start to open up for him, the little dress riding further up your thighs. He presses two fingers against your panties, already soaked through and clinging to your warm cunt.

He takes a sharp breath. “Fuck, it’s so wet for me already…maybe its not that complicated.” He eases your panties to the side and slips his long thick fingers inside you, you can feel the folds of your pussy beating your pulse around his intrusion and you moan.

“Shh I know…” he hums. “Fuck its so easy, huh? You're so ready. Do you get it now?” He’s rubbing gentle circles inside you, the pressure and intensity of the sensation rising and falling as he moves closer and closer to your clit. “Or do I need to fuck you?”

You moan and open wider, hooking your feet behind his ankles. Hips starting to rock as your head lulls back against his shoulder.

“I still don’t get it Professor Donaldson,” you whine. “I think I need more guidance.”

“Mmhm… I can tell.” He presses little kisses along your throat while you ride his fingers.

“Oh fuck..” you moan, voice pitchy and loud. “professor, it feels so, so good.”

“Shhh,” Art breathes working them a little faster. “You have to be a good girl and keep it down unless we’re talking about school work.”

“Yes sir.” You gasp.

Fuck. He can’t pretend he hasn’t thought about doing this to you. He thinks about it every day, you’re so goddam tempting, but he was trying to control himself, trying so hard to be good. He is good. He’s not doing anything wrong. He’s just teaching you… helping you understand Shakespeare. He should probably replace his fingers, just to really drive it home… so to speak.

He unzips while trying to keep your squirming to a minimum. He’s so close. By the time he sinks into your heated cunt he nearly blacks out for how good it feels. “Holy shit, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts as you moan for him. “Fuck… start again. Read the whole scene.”

Your hands are all shaky gripping his thighs as you try to focus on Much Ado About Nothing. You can feel him thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt as you bounce on his lap. All while trying to recite the stupid scene. He whispers “good girl” between each line. Humming his soft little grunts of pleasure in your ear. God this is insane.

“I will l-live… I w-will live in thy… in thy heart…” you’re practically panting, his fingers playing with your clit while he fucks you.

“Mmhm.”

“Fuck professor… I’m so…. ‘m gonna cum.”

“Almost finished, come on,” he pushes.

“In thy heart,” you moan as the dam suddenly bursts and you make a mess all over his lap.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” He gasps… pushing you off in a hurry as he starts to spill. You watch as he jerks himself through climax, some of it splattering on your dress and the old wooden desk.

Even after he’s help cleaned you up, he’s still pretty sure you learned nothing. “Die in thy lap…like Le petit mort… the little death” he tries, but you never studied French and you’re not particularly impressed by the French either.

And maybe he feels a little bad that after all that you still don’t get it. You’ll never be a true artist in any sense of the word, but after a few more evening tutoring sessions you definitely come to appreciate how good Art can make you feel so… a win is a win.

(Kinda sucks i know but its x reader and i wrote it at midnight after recovering from a migraine. Cut me some slack y’all)

#challengers fic #art donaldson #art x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #challengers au #challengers

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springwitch8 · 1 year ago

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

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bigwishes · 1 year ago

Text

Big Man on Campus

(a trade with @alphajocklover)

Trent had been going to college for almost 4 years at this point, he was 21 and steadily approaching his 22nd birthday and approaching his graduation even faster. He had spent most of his time inside, working on his computer engineering degree or gaming. He didn't really care for the college party scene, he'd much rather stay in his tidy little single all weekend until monday classes.

but when it finally sank in how close it was to being over Trent couldn't help but have a little bit of regret, should he have hit the gym with the other guys on his floor? should he have joined the casual rowing team just for some fun and exercise? was computer science really what he wanted a degree in? Senior doubt and regret flooded his mind, but there was still an upside. 4 months were left, 4 months he'd make the most of.

Trent went on the college forums looking for something to do, he thought about a few of the options but found two that he really liked. The first was a dungeons and dragons club the second was listen as an exercise club but it also seemed to be a project for two sport science students.

Transformation Experiment Ground: "Our names are Brody and Clark, we are looking for young males on campus who are out of shape looking to get in shape and help with our experiment. Come form a sense of community, get the body you desire and help us with our research!" Monday came and classes went. Normally Trent would go home and smash out a few ours gaming but it was time for his clubs to start. First he had the sport experiment thing, the only issue was he only had a few minutes to get to the dnd club across campus, but he wasn't sure how sweaty he'd get or if he'd need a shower. He just had to hope there was a shower at the campus gym.

Trent checked his phone, he thought he was going to the campus gym but the address was for a room in the athlete scholarship dorms. Trent walked passed the gym and into the building next to it. The halls had photos of previous college athletes plastered up between the doors.

Finally he arrived, right on time, room 223. Trent raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Standing before him was a jacked guy with spiked blonde hair in a black tank and grey sweat pants and standing next to him just slightly down the hall was an equally jacked dude with shaggy brown hair in the same outfit.

"hey bro what's up I'm Brody and just over there is Clark"

Brody stuck out his hand but when Trent went to shake it he realised Brody was waiting for a fist bump not a hand shake, Trent awkwardly closed up his hand and bumped Brody's fist. Clark let out a douchey laugh that echoed out the door.

"Come in man, come in"

"You are, the only one comin" Clark sighed

"oh, was I the only one who signed up?"

Trent started to get anxious, guys who looked like this normally bullied him and now he was going to be on his own with them for an hour. Trent made his way into the room, following Brody and Clark.

The athlete dorms were so much bigger than the other rooms he'd been in. There was a large lounge space with a small kitchen, a door to a private bathroom and two bedrooms either side of the lounge.

In the corner of the lounge there was a small fold out chair and table. On the table were 5 green vials and what looked to be an oculus rift stripped down to its basic components.

"so ummm, where do we start with like a workout plan?"

"nah dude, I mean I can totally write you one but this is a bit more of a series of practice experiments" Brody said as he walked over to the small table

"get him hooked up man, I'm gonna grab my laptop with the video"

Trent followed Brody over to the small fold out chair

"its nothing too fancy but our class mates got the actual sports lab, apparently our experiment is pseudo-science"

"what exactly are you guys studying?"

"we are trying to see if active suggestion and nutrients redirection can get people to actively pursue fitness"

"oh damn, I just thought this was like, a workout class" Trent sat down as Brody began setting up the make shift visor. "if you don't mind me asking, what are you guys majoring in?"

"well I'm getting a double major in bio-chemistry and psychology"

"and I'm getting a double major in computer engineering and software development" Clark said as he walked back in carrying an open laptop

Trent's jaw almost dropped to the floor, he'd come here thinking he was going to be made to workout by two dumb jocks who were just going to scribble times on a napkin, but instead he's participating in a proper experiment designed by two people probably leagues smarter than him.

"okay man its real easy, we are gonna hook up an image display for a few minutes and you'll take a shot of this" Clark said as he handed over one of the small green vials.

"errrr, is it safe?"

Clark burst out laughing and Brody couldn't help but crack a smile.

"yeah man, its just a diet supplement you can get offline, fda approved, basically it tells your muscles they want to hold water and your fat cells to burn"

Trent downed the green liquid as Clark flicked the visor down over his eyes. There was a short beep sound before images began to flash on the visor. Flashes of guys working out, of dumbbells and the words you are a jock and you love working out and muscle.

Trent couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry guys this is so corny" He laughed.

The other two began to chuckle as well as the room filled with laughter.

"Look dude, Its the closest thing I could find on YouTube, its about the suggestions" Clark laughed

Suddenly the lights in the room began to flicker and all 3 globes in the lounge burnt out at once.

"what the-" Brody and Clark said in unison, but they were interrupted when sparks began to fly off the oculus. They rushed to try and take it off Trent but were shocked by the electricity. Sparks shout out of the power point in the wall and the two boys watched helplessly as Trent began to convulse in his seat.

Trent let out a painful and stalled out moan as the electricity travelled over the oculus and shocked his temples.

The room was dark was illuminated every few seconds by a shock or spark and the two boys could swear they could see something, something happening to Trent's body. A few more seconds passed before it finally stopped.

Brody and Clark stood there stunned, the sound of beeping could be heard from the kitchen as the oven entered safety mode, but a more concerning noise echoed in the boys ears. The sound of sizzling. Clark carefully walked over to the curtains and opened them, the room filling with light and showing them what had happened to Trent.

He sat in the chair with his head slumped forward, his chin hitting his chest as smoke was rising off the device on his head and all over his body. But what the two saw in the dark wasn't a trick of the light, Trent had indeed gotten bigger. His skinny fat body had expanded, he'd become more lean, his muscles more pronounced and most of the fat on his body had melted away.

Trent let out a moan as a string of drool fell from his mouth

"OH THANK FUCK HE'S ALIVE" Clark cried out with a sigh of relief.

The two rushed over and pulled the device off his head. Trent's eyes instantly responded as he looked up at the two of them.

"wooahh bro, huhu, that was intence" Trent mumbled

"yeah, thank god you're okay" said Brody.

Trent lifted his arm to the side and flexed his bicep and let out a dumb chuckle.

"errr, dude, real quick, what's your name?"

"Trent, duuuhuhuhu, you fuckin forgetful bro?"

Trent seemed okay but something was wrong, even with the short interaction the three of them had, Clark and Brody knew something had happened to him.

"hey Trent, what are you" Brody asked

Trent smirked as he lifted his other arm, completing a double bicep pose.

"a jock, duuuhuhuhu"

Trent stood up and effortlessly pushed passed the two as he started heading towards the door.

"well at least we know his motor functions weren't damaged"

Clark and Brody quickly followed him

"Dude, I really think you should go to the medical centre"

"Nah bro, I got dnd like NOW I gotta boost"

"wait Trent!" Clark yelled out "err, dnd thats an interesting hobbie for a jock, what else are you into"

Trent spun around on the spot with a big smirk on his face

"glad you asked dude, I love three things, gymmin, gamin, dndenin..dndin.....dndining....." Trent's voice trailed off as he tried to finish forming his catchy sentence

"and, what about your major? what are you studying?" Brody asked

"errr huhuhu, like, what's a major?" Trent said turning around to leave again

"FUCK DUDE I THINK WE ACTUALLY FRIED HIS BRAIN" Clark started to panic

"I mean, yeah, but it seems like his core interests and that jock hypno video have combined into a new personality, I dunno if we friend his brain more, re-wrote it"

"DUDE NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR INTEREST IN THE HUMAN BRAIN WE FUCKING CREATED GYM BRO FRANKENSTIEN"

Trent walked out the door into the crowded hallway. Students were all talking over the top of each other in front of their dorm rooms trying to work out what was going on. The two boys raced out to follow Trent.

"Trent dude wait!, errr, tell me about your dnd character" Brody called out desperately trying to stop him from leaving

Trent continued to power forward through the crowd, pushing through them like water with his new powerful body.

"well bro, I was gonna play some like, lil spell caster dude, but like, i dunno bro, numbers are hard, so like, I think I'm just gonna play, like, some sick fucking, roided out minotaur with a huge axe"

Brody was struggling to keep up with Trent, they both had already lost Clark to the sea of students. Brody grabbed onto the back of Trent's shirt which caused him to stop and turn around.

"woah lil dude, if you wanted some action all you had to do was ask, I got an 8 inch python with your na-"

"WHAT!, ha, oh, no dude, errr, that's" Brody's face turned bright red as he got flustered.

"no? damn too bad, you lil fuckin, science dudes are kinda cute"

Brody was stunned, some how all this muscle and new persona had also added a level of charm to Trent that dug right through to his core. But it was too late to grab his attention again. Trent had already pulled away and gone off out of Brody's sight...

One week had passed since the extreme power surge that had hit the Athlete Scholarship Dorms. There almost wasn't a single incident other than a few blown light bulbs and some damaged electronics....almost. The college had found out about Trent, no matter how hard Brody and Clark tried to hide it. However the two got off lucky. Both the College and the investigation into what happened deemed it was an accident that unfortunately resulted in what was being called "Personality Death". Trent had an entirely healthy body and brain with no signs of damages, but something had happen to completely re-write who and what he was.

The college couldn't let Trent graduate, he couldn't even remember what he had enrolled for, but the college still found a purpose for him. The hid the extreme and sudden body transformation from the investigation and gave Trent a 'job'. His official title was research assistant but he was too stupid for any serious work. His real job was to sit there and be injected with experimental steroids. Forced to grow like some roided out lab rat. Not that he cared, every time Trent put on even an ounce of muscle he'd spend hours in the mirror flexing. He was the biggest guy on campus.

[6 years later]

"okay babe, just hold still"

"aahhh, fuck, it feels so good when it goes in"

"you are so weird, I hate getting injections"

"well huhuhu, when you got a sexy lil piece of meat to do em, its a huge fuckin turn on dude"

Brody stood up from the kitchen table and began to clean up the injection kit, chuckling as he did it.

"Trent, that's so cheesy"

Trent stood up, the sound of wood scraping against the floor filled the room as he effortlessly and accidentally moved the entire dining table.

"will it make me look like Captain America huhuhu?"

"babe...seriously, I think we passed the Captain America stage about 150 pounds ago"

"then hit me with all 6 and make me the hulk" Trent pressed his body against Brody and the table.

Brody was no stranger to 300+ pounds pressing against him "I said no Trent" a slight grin cracked across Brody's face, 'besides, for all I know that one shot will add another 50 pounds, we gotta wait and see."

Trent stood there staring into Brody's eyes with an expression that could only be described as a computer failing to load a basic program 10 times in a row.

"Then jab me with all 6 and give me" Trent stopped to count on his fingers, "120 pounds of muscle" a large smirk crept across his face, proud he was able to do the math in his head.

Brody rolled his eyes and chuckled

"that'd be 300 pounds babe" Brody packed up the rest of the kit and left the kitchen.

Trent went to follow after him, he had hit the gym already today so no other thoughts existed in his mind other than getting attention for how big he was from Brody, but as he walked out the kitchen he caught a glimpse of himself and began flexing in the lounge room mirror, completely forgetting what he had been doing just 2 seconds again...

He was so proud of the roided lab rat he had become...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

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bonbonly · 6 months ago

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loveee your college au thoughts! i was wondering if you can write one for max or carlos with a trainee physio? something similar to your carlos thought but instead of first aid, if you could do giving them a massage. Thank you

bon's thoughts (18+)

collegeau!max's dumbass is the only one i see having a trainee physio, but not necessarily wanting one in the first place. he's probably whining and moaning the whole time about how his arm will get better on its own. he might've pulled it after crashing his kart onto a barrier and trying to grab onto something in the process. his reasoning was that if he played it enough on the sim, surely he'd be better in person, no?

the university offers a bunch of health services, and max's friends force him to book an appointment with the physiotherapist on campus. unfortunately, he got a call back from the department telling him the therapist was out of town for the weekend, but his lovely trainee was there and was willing to help him. max took this as a sign to cancel altogether, but then he heard your name and he raised his eyebrows and goes "oh."

he's seen you around before in the health services building, clumsily bumping into the doctors as you passed through the hallways, dropping files of paper onto the ground. and his personal favorite, watching you walk into one hallway, and then circle around with a confused expression as you went into another, completely and utterly lost. he figured he could have some fun with you, so he says he'll see the trainee.

and when he meets you, you're ecstatic! someone is finally trusting themself with you! you're bouncing on your toes, arms behind your back as you greet him with the biggest smile ever. max thinks it's a bit too much so early on a saturday morning for this much energy, but he lets it slide when he sees the tight shirt you're wearing which pushes your tits just a little higher than normal. it looks so soft, he wants to grab at them, but unfortunately his right arm wouldn't let him.

he does a few of the simple exercises you instruct him to do, jotting down a bunch of notes and he stops when you clear your throat.

"what's that?" you point at his straining hard cock in his shorts, and he blushes a bit, trying to come up with an explanation that didn't make him seem like a creep, "are you bruised there? should I do some checks?"

and his jaw drops when he realizes how oblivious you really are. he's using his left hand to pinch his thigh, to make sure he doesn't laugh out loud but he shrugs, "well, it's been aching for the past 30 minutes, but I don't think you could do anything to help."

"what are you talking about? of course I can help!" you beam, and max shifts in his seat, gesturing for you to come undo his shorts and free his cock. his tip leaking in joy at the sight of you on your knees, setting your notes down to the side which gives him an ample view of your ass. oh he couldn't wait for his arm to get better, he'd love to toss you onto his lap and take you right here.

"so, how do i do this? dr. bentley never really taught me much, i only ever worked with females," you sweetly confessed, and max's cock swelled even more than before. he lets out a soft chuckle, assuring you that it's ok,

"um, i think..." he pauses, his dutch accent stronger now out of his desire, "i think you wrap your mouth around and slowly suck." and he notices your brows furrow, a bit confused because surely no one ever puts their mouth there right? "trust me, it's the only way to make the pain go away, i'll tell dr. bentley how great you were."

hearing that was enough, and you obediently wrap your mouth around his dick, gently sucking him off. he throws his head back and you pause, fearfully looking at him.

"no, no, schatje, you're doing great, keep going," he groans, using his left hand to pat your head, or was it to make you go deeper? you gag a couple times, tears streaming down your face because you really want to make him feel better but this was so hard! "it's ok, don't worry, maybe I can give you a couple lessons in our next session? but this is only for me, because it only works for me. don't try this on any other patient."

you nod your head, letting him guide you as you lick long stripes against his cock, watching him take your hand and have it wrapped around his shaft, pumping him as you continued to suck. what a wonderful patient, you thought to yourself, he was so kind and helpful!

collegeau!max verstappen is more than happy to visit you again in the health services department, it seemed like his cock just would never stop aching for you!

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xiaq · 4 months ago

Note

Would you ever write a story or book about Kuzy? I need more of himmmm ❤️ one of the few characters I'd read MF for though I feel like if anyone would be chill about finding out he was bi and going with it, it'd be Kuzy lol #yeshomo

@rainbowsandcoconut

I don't currently have any substantive plans for a Kuzy story, but if you want some of my brainworms about him/his eventual romance, here you go:

He lives right next to a firehouse and there's a cute, kickass firewoman (cis, leans androgynous) named Nicole "call me Nic" with whom he has occasional banter-moments (I used to live next to a firehouse and if they were out front they'd always chat with me when I walked the dog; I loved that community dynamic).

One night after a rough game, Kuzy is going for a walk and Nic is sitting out on a lawn chair in front of the house processing a rough call, and they have a moment of shared vulnerability together, looking up at the stars. She's the child of immigrants and they bond over how stupid the English language is. Kuzy tells her about Eli/Hawk and she mentions that she loves dogs but can't have one with her work schedule.

Over the next few days, Kuzy can't stop thinking about her. He wants an excuse to see her more often that doesn't feel creepy, so he goes to the shelter nearby and offers to exercise dogs. Now, he has a perfectly good reason to walk past the firehouse (sometimes multiple times a day!) on the off-chance the firefighters are out and he can politely offer a dog's brief company for Nic's enjoyment.

Except he's not super smooth about it because the rest of the folks at the house realize pretty quickly that the giant Russian walking dogs only happens to walk dogs on the days that Nic is on shift.

Convenient.

This continues for longer than it probably should. Until Kuzy is hosting some of the Hounds and one of the rookies does something stupid. Not sure what. I'm thinking gets his hand stuck in an expensive vase. Or maybe his head. And Kuzy very sheepishly has to walk him over to the firehouse like, "hello, this baby is my responsibility, can you please rescue him?" And they eventually get the thing cut off of his hand/head/whatever but one of Nic's bros pulls Kuzy aside and says, "maybe you should just ask her out instead of coming up with increasingly more creative excuses to talk to her—at this rate someone is going to get hurt" and Kuzy is like, “ok, this was 100% not contrived and while I would like to go out with her, she is a goddess who saves lives and I am but a goofy athlete, undeserving of her attentions," and Firefighter Bro like, "you know, I think she'd settle for you."

So, spurred on by this bit of hope, he's like, "I need to do this right, this can't just be some hookup, I like her." And he starts Operation Woo Nic.

And the whole time Nic is like, "would you just fucking take me home, I would like to bang you," but he's trying so hard to be a gentleman about it that she lets him for a while. She's never been woo'ed before. Might be fun. Eventually she gets fed up and when he's dropping off cookies or whatever on his daily dog-walk she's like, "hey, do you want to be my boyfriend? Yeah? Great. We should have sex about that. My shift ends in three hours, what's your address?"

It is possibly the best day of Kuzy's life.

Anyway. As usual, there's no real plot, just vibes. But he is Smitten. And she is hopelessly endeared. And she's certified as a paramedic, so she's constantly ragging him for his little injuries and keeping him honest about PT. At some point she gets injured in the line of duty and he gets to be suitably dramatic and probably make declarations at her hospital bedside. He dotes on her for a while during her recovery.

And eventually he convinces her to move in with him so she can be close to work and she's like, "yeah? That's the only reason? For the ease of my commute?" And he says, "well that but also because I love you more than I thought was possible and when we're not together I miss you like a limb and our schedules are shit enough as it is, I'm greedy for every second I can have with you," and she's like, "yeah, fair enough."

So. Not really sure how it would end, but uh. There you go! Kuzy and his Firefighter Lady. Also he definitely foster-fails multiple times and hires a full-time nanny to take care of all his and Nic's dogs when she's on shift and he's traveling. It's great.

AND I imagine some very funny cultural confusion moments when her family (Japanese) interacts with his family (Russian) but they all generally bond over their shared love of fermented foods and dumplings. And alcohol. There are hijinks.

Ok. The End!

#kuzy #answered asks #lrpd #lrpd adjacent #mywriting #Author things

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sschizoid · 6 months ago

Text

people still like mouthwashing right because i need to empty my brain of these oddly specific headcanons that have been plaguing my psyche for the past 2-3 months

curly

big fan of shitty hallmark movies

does a lot of cooking/meal prep

is always using idioms and proverbs in casual conversation for some reason

definitely the type to say "glad we got here when we did" when the previously sparse restaurant he and the crew were eating at suddenly gets busy

casually drops self-depreciating jokes but in a really nonchalant and chill way that just kind of makes others go ???

jimmy

horrible light sensitivity and suffers from chronic migraines

drives a 1999 pontiac grand prix (forest green)

maintains intense and unyielding eye contact with no shame or discomfort whatsoever

prescribed antipsychotics but doesn't take them

worryingly high pain tolerance. eats spicy food with a complete look of neutrality. puts cigarettes out on his wrist as a fun party trick (nobody else thinks its fun)

anya

has a rescue persian cat back on earth who she absolutely dotes on. cleans his face daily with those hypoallergenic pet wipes to make sure he doesn't get those crusty tear stains around his eyes

vashti bunyan enjoyer

she fucking loves those 5-minute craft videos. she didn't know she could do so many things with hot glue and ramen noodle blocks

gets so upset at food network competition shows, literally edge of her seat head in her hands when the person she was rooting for doesn't win

20mg prozac

swansea

type of dad to just stand in the middle of the living room with his arms crossed while watching TV 20 minutes after insisting he wasn't interested

coached his kids' little league teams when they were younger and got way too into it. got extremely pissed at the refs on a regular basis for shitty calls. made a few other kids cry in the process

keychain is one of those beanie baby fast food toys that's been modded and gifted to him by his kids. he teared up when they gave it to him

"we're not getting a dog" becomes the dog's favorite person and subsequently his reason for waking up in the morning

wants a cnc machine so fucking badly

daisuke

"gifted and talented" burnout

"hey man check this out" then shows you the most niche and brainrotted meme that requires at least 7 layers of context

spends a lot of his online time on twitch. lurks specifically in speedrunners' chats only to send OMEGALUL emotes when the run gets killed. has been banned by multiple streamers for this

checks the IDs of random pills found on public bathroom floors. they're usually just tylenols

always the first to send those holiday chain texts with the surplus of emojis and profanities. you know the ones (anya is the only one who sends them back as a courtesy)

lmk if you enjoy these or have any specific requests; my asks are open !! i don't judge and have been looking for some short writing exercises as an excuse to flex my prefrontal cortex a bit hehe |＾▽＾)ノ

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing headcanons #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #and this is a brand spankin' new sideblog that im trying to fill with as much content as possible for as long as possible

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bangaveragewhitewine · 1 year ago

Text

the boy is mine (amy's edition)

Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!

wc: 1,800

contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt

notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷

the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer.

the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here

April 1985

You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.

It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.

Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes.

Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.

If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too.

“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus.

“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.

The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body.

That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded.

“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver.

A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard.

The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy.

Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks.

The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa.

You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.”

Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.

When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.

He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time.

He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.

Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla.

“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if there’s a Mr Crocker…”

You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years.

“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face.

“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”

He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.”

“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you.

“And you like that?” you ask.

“I do.”

Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.

Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…”

He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.

“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.”

Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”

“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.”

“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense).

“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.

As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge.

You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting.

“Hm?”

“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.”

You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.

“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop.

“Okay, I’m cutting you off.”

The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.

thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #bangaveragefics

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synamartia · 9 months ago

Text

“ Need A Hand … ? „

“ Let's make your thoughts a reality … „

synopsis ┊ ◜ For the weeks following your one-night stand, Alastor was beside himself with a desire still fairly new to him - his mind constantly occupied with thoughts of you and your shared evening. Night after night, he would watch you from the shadows, a familiar ache in the pits of his belly winding tighter and tighter as you tried to recreate the very same event in your mind's eye with your silicone toy. Eventually, having had enough of your failed attempts at self-gratification, Alastor takes pity on your tortured soul and decides to offer his assistance . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 4,130 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Alastor x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ Non-sex repulsed Alastor ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Slight Stalker!Alastor ✧ Shower masturbation (Reader) ✧ Mutual masturbation ✧ Vaginal fingering ✧ Tentacles ✧ Hand job ◞ notes ┊ ◜ Can't believe we're already two weeks down! Time sure does fly when you're having fun, huh? Go check out last week's work linked down below on the Coven's Kinktober 2024 masterlist, and don't forget to give some likes, a few reblogs, and a follow to my darling wives~! Heaven and hell knows they deserve it! And to all my Haunted fans: this was a scene I had planned out for Haunted, but decided to cut it after writing 4+ chapters of pure smut. I wanna try to focus on the plot real soon! But don't worry, there will be more sexy times in that series! So for now, enjoy this little snippet~! ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

It was only supposed to be a one-night stand; a friend helping out another friend; a one-off occurrence contingent entirely upon your careless mistakes and Alastor's prowess as a deal-making sinner. Weeks had gone by, and you hadn't uttered a single word to one another about it, dancing around the subject almost as if you were afraid to speak of it. As if talking about it outside the safe confines of Alastor's bedroom would make the heated memories disappear and any unspoken thoughts or desires evaporate into thin air, along with the few scraps that remained of your now tattered business relationship and friendship.

But you still found your mind wandering back to that night, struggling to hide the way your cheeks would flush a bright red at the memories flooding your brain; how your voice would crack with both nervousness and excitement when speaking to him about an issue with the hotel or a resident; or how you would rub your thighs together for the smallest bit of friction when he would enter the room and flash you that wide grin of his, the knowledge of your endeavors dancing behind carmine irises.

And in the late hours of the night, after everyone in the hotel had long since gone to bed, you would desperately try to recreate your experience in your mind's eye as your fingers drew fast circles on your clit, your silicone toy plunging deeper and deeper into your needy cunt - Alastor's voice at the forefront of your mind, coaxing you closer and closer, just as he did back then. But you failed every single time; your imagination was simply not enough to get you there, your fingers and toy nothing but a cheap imitation.

It had become a nightly ritual of sorts; when it wasn't done properly, Alastor felt more restless than usual - unable to read more than a single paragraph of his favorite book or properly hunt the deer scampering through his bayou pocket dimension without it. At the end of the day, after all of Charlie's redemption exercises and your basic duties as an employee, you would immediately slink off to your room under the false pretense of exhaustion from a long day's work.

Although you were none the wiser, Alastor was never far behind, slipping into the shadows as you stripped yourself of the hotel's uniform the second you heard the lock on your door click into place. A rush of pride would wash over the Radio Demon when he noticed that you were wearing the new undergarments he'd gifted you, to replace the ones he'd made a mess of so many nights ago - followed by a sense of possession when he eyed the faint bruises and scratch marks on your thighs and breasts that had yet to fully heal.

Once completely nude, your discarded clothing laying in a heap at the foot of your bed, you would saunter off to the connected bathroom, turning the knobs of your shower until steam filled the small space, obscuring your view of anything more than five feet away. He'd listen quietly as you washed off the day's dirt and grime, the hot water relaxing your tense muscles and lulling you into a false sense of security and solitude, the now all too familiar scent of your shampoo wafting through the air and clouding his senses. And he would wait patiently for that tell-tale sigh; the same one you made when he touched you, signaling that his new favorite broadcast was about to start.

The steam was thick, making it so that your silhouette was all Alastor could see as you removed the detachable shower head from its hook, tracing the steel object down your front until you felt it against your heated core. Excitement coursed through his veins as he imagined the expressions you were making, hands gripping tight his microphone as his own muscles flexed beneath his now much too restricting clothes. Eventually, you would begin to moan quietly as the pleasure began to build, raising your leg high enough to rest your foot on the grab bar, using your free hand to spread your folds apart and turning the head until the warm water sprayed directly on your clit.

And when he caught a faint whisper of his name as it fell from your lips, he would sink his teeth into the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. It was a grand symphony, the sounds you made, and the last thing Alastor wanted to do was interrupt such a beautiful performance before its crescendo and climactic end. He waited with bated breath as your moans rose in volume, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased that elusive high, but like so many nights before, it wasn't enough. Your body felt tense once more as you teetered on the edge of release, unable to push yourself off that cliff despite your intense desire for the freefall into ecstasy.

Soon, the pleasure died down, your orgasm eluding you once again and you eventually gave up on the shower head, a frustrated groan slipping from your throat as you moved to shut off the water. Alastor dissolved into the shadows just before you stepped out of the tub, reaching for a towel folded neatly on a nearby shelf and wrapping it around your body. Careful not to enter your line of vision, he manifested nearby and admired your skin, beads of water rolling down your body to be absorbed by the plush fabric wrapped around your torso and upper thighs, or the bath rug beneath your feet.

For a split second, Alastor had gotten distracted by a faint bite mark behind your left ear made by him during your escapades, and barely avoided being caught in the mirror when you wiped away the thick layer of steam and condensation blocking your view.

Blissfully unaware of your company, you went about your usual nighttime routine, starting with your dental hygiene, then your skin care, then your hair. By the time you finished gently raking your brush through your damp tangles, your skin had dried almost completely despite the humidity of the steamy bathroom, and you discarded your used towel in the hamper near the door as you reentered the main room of your suite. Your frustration was clear by your stiff movements as you made your way to your wardrobe for a fresh set of undergarments and pajamas.

He almost felt bad enough to end your nightly routine in that moment, to help you reach your end that you had been chasing after so desperately night after night. But the promise of an even greater, more illustrious second act in an already superlative performance helped him to steel his resolve and remain hidden from your eyes. And just as he had watched you do so many times before, you closed the doors after picking out something to sleep in and turned on the balls of your feet, walking over to the side of your bed and tossing the clothes on top of the duvet.

Alastor had memorized this scene, eyeing your naked form as you grazed one hand over your abdomen, letting it drift up to your left breast and cradling its weight, slender fingers pinching the sensitive bud between your thumb and forefinger. With a light tug followed by an experimental twist, you sighed as you squeezed the squishy mound, your other hand coming up to mirror its twin. Another sigh, followed by your eyes closing shut and your head lolling back, and then another frustrated groan after a few seconds of teasing your own nipples.

"I should just go to bed..." you would whisper to yourself, your hands dropping back down as you reached for your panties and slid them up your legs. He eyed the way the lace bit into your flesh where the elastic wasn't as stretchy, baring his teeth as he fought back the urge to reveal himself and tear the offensive fabric from your body. Then you reached for the oversized tshirt, pulling it over your head and slipping your arms through, pulling it down until it covered the panties hugging you close.

Alastor wasn't sure why you bothered with clothes - you would end up removing them later on during your efforts. But who was he to question the mind and the methods of an artist as talented as you?

You stood there for a few minutes, looking between your bed and the table beside it, contemplating if you should even make an attempt tonight. You were almost positive that you would fail, just as you had the night before, and the one before that. Maybe if you tried a visual aid, that might help?

With another groan, you didn't waste any more time thinking about it and turned to the night table by your bedside, reaching into the bottom drawer for the obscene toy that had worked wonders for your tense muscles and stressed mind before he ruined your vivid imagination. Tossing it onto the bed, you slid your panties back off before climbing onto the soft mattress, crawling to the center and lying flat on your back. Spreading your legs open, Alastor inhaled sharply when he saw the glistening sheen of your slicked hole, his fingertips overlapping the shaft of his microphone and digging into his palm.

You sighed again, placing one hand on your clothed breast and giving a gentle squeeze, trailing it downwards until you touched bare skin. Grabbing hold of your toy, silicone heavy in your hand, you lowered it to your aching cunt and rubbed the tip between your folds.

Alastor's brows furrowed together in confusion when he realized you had skipped a step, not teasing yourself with your fingers like you had so many nights before. You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, which was odd but not entirely out of place for your behavior throughout the day. You skipped breakfast that morning, rushed through your work, barely ate any food during the communal dinner Charlie forced everyone to attend, and you had excused yourself much earlier than usual - now you were skipping steps in your nightly endeavors? Something was wrong. Perhaps he had waited too long to initiate a second encounter, and you were beginning to lose interest? Or perhaps you had fallen ill.

"Alastor..." you whispered, rubbing the length of your silicone toy against your clit for a moment or two, then lowered it until it was lined up with your entrance. Part of you wanted to give up before you even tried, knowing full well how this would end from past experience. Closing your eyes, you pushed the toy inside, wincing at the painful sting caused by the stretch, silently cursing yourself for not preparing before this step. But you thought, maybe switching it up might help in the long run, even if it was painful at first.

Alastor watched you from the shadowy corner of your dimly lit room, shamelessly palming himself through his slacks as you took your time in sliding the toy deeper into your aching heat. Part of him wanted to wait longer, to see how long it would take you to come to him, to ask for his assistance. But several weeks had already gone by, and he was beginning to lose what little sleep he was able to get just watching you try and fail over and over again. As much as he wanted to hold out, his impatience was getting the better of him.

"Need a hand?"

"H-huh-?!" you yelped, eyes shooting open and head snapping to your left at the sound of Alastor's static filtered voice. At first you thought you had imagined it, expecting there to be nothing there when you turned your head. "Oh my god!" you screeched when your eyes locked with Alastor's, your entire face turning a brighter shade of red than his hair. He was laying there on his side, head propped up on his elbow and eyes teasing, reveling in your scared reaction.

"Not even close, dear."

In a panic, you pulled the toy from your core and threw it to the side in an attempt to hide it, your legs slamming shut as you moved to sit up. But Alastor stopped you with a single hand to your chest, pressing you back down into the bed as he cradled his own with his free hand. "A-Alastor, what the hell are you-?!" you started, but he only pressed a single clawed digit to your lips, the corners of his mouth pulling up even further than usual. He waited until you were completely silent, then trailed his finger down your chin to your neck until he reached the collar of your t-shirt, tugging on the hem as his eyes traveled further south.

Humming to himself, Alastor looked back up at your face and raised a single brow at the confusion he saw in your eyes. Were you actually confused, or were you just pretending to be shy and embarrassed to get a rise out of him? "Let's not beat around the bush, darling. I know what you've been doing every night since our last encounter," Alastor told you, causing your face to flush an even brighter red, looking away from him as you fidgeted beneath his gaze. "I don't... how?" you asked, only to have him raise a brow at the question, as if he were asking you, 'really'?

Grinning wider, Alastor let his gaze travel back down along with his hand, slipping between your thighs effortlessly and grazing two fingers over your slick entrance. He didn't miss the gasp of surprise tumbling from your lips followed by that same delectable little sigh he'd come to enjoy so much - the same one that had him crossing his legs during Charlie's redemption exercises or pressing himself into the side of the island countertop to hide his growing arousal when you would taste test his dishes.

Dipping his fingers inside your quivering hole, Alastor gave a few shallow pumps before retracting his hand altogether, raising it up just enough for you to see your own slick glistening on his fingers. "Would you like me to help you?" he asked you as calmly as he could possibly manage, enunciating each word as he patiently waited for the consent he just knew you would give.

Releasing a shaky sigh, you didn't hesitate in making your decision, a rush of exhilaration you hadn't felt since the last time you were together coursing through your veins. "Yes," you whispered, staring at his face as something carnal took over, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on you again, to have his lips pressed against yours, to feel the burning stretch of his cock inside your needy cunt as he pounded into you with reckless abandon.

"Very well, dear. But first," Alastor responded, letting his hand slide between your legs again. "My price."

Of course. You knew Alastor was going to want something in return, which was why you didn't go to him after your first week of struggling to reach orgasm - there was no telling what he would ask of you, and seeing as his motives for even being at the hotel in the first place were still very much so a mystery to everyone, you were being overly cautious. And then there was the whole deal-making sinner Overlord thing. But something else that was plaguing your mind: why did he have to say it like he was taking pointers from your resident porn star? "Okay, Angel. What do you want?" you asked, unable to resist teasing him a bit by emphasizing the name.

"Ha! Funny," Alastor said, and suddenly his hand was gone from between your legs and your cheeks were being squished together between his clawed digits as he gripped your chin tight. "I want you to tell me all the naughty little things you thought about each night while you were fucking yourself with that toy," he spat the last word, almost as if he were offended that you chose a piece of plastic over him. And for a while, he was - which is one of many reasons why he waited so long to initiate a second encounter. He wanted you to suffer the burning ache of a lost orgasm every time you decided to use that thing instead of coming to him and asking for his assistance.

Alastor wanted you to be completely dependent on him for your pleasure, and until you learned to swallow that silly little pride of yours, he had planned to let you suffer every single night - plagued by the blissful memories he'd given you, unable to recreate them no matter how hard you tried.

But oh, best laid plans and all that, right?

"S-seriously?" you squeaked, your face somehow becoming an even deeper crimson as Alastor stared into your eyes, face unchanging as he rubbed his index finger against your bottom lip. "Deadly," he responded, pupils changing to radio dials for a split second, pushing his finger past your lips and against your tongue to let you taste yourself. A black tendril out of your line-of-sight slithered between your legs, prodding at your wet entrance unexpectedly. "Ah! Huh-?!" you gasped, looking down between your legs at the sudden contact.

It was only a second, but it was enough to have him gripping your chin once more and forcing you to look back at his face. "You know better than to look away, my dear," he chided your simple mistake, pushing a second finger into your mouth and pressing both of them flat against your tongue. When the tendril pushed past the first ring of muscle into your dripping cunt, you whimpered around his fingers, sucking gently at your fluids that still coated them.

Fuck, he's barely touched you and you're already so much closer to an orgasm than you had ever gotten by yourself.

Reaching up to grab hold of his wrist, you pulled his fingers from your mouth so that you could speak. "Alastor..." you started, a soft moan interrupting your speech as the tentacle pushed deeper into your core, a squelching sound filling your ears as it pumped slowly, your juices coating its black surface.

"Tell me, did you think about me?" Alastor asked, urging you on as he moved to wrap his hand around your neck, squeezing gently when you nodded your head. "Yes," you admitted, your walls clenching around the tentacle when it began to pick up speed. He hummed at your response, his hand moving further south to the bottom hem of your shirt and sneaking under it. "Did you think about me touching you like... this?" he asked, his fingers pinching the hardened nub of your breast, making you inhale sharply at the pain followed by the pleasure of him kneading the soft mound.

"Yes," you answered, your moans progressively becoming louder as the tendril began to move with more force, now pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. "Y-yes, Alastor... I thought about you," you breathed, digging your fingers into the duvet you were laying on. "About the way your voice sounded when you would praise me," you continued, inching your mouth closer to his as he released your sensitive bud, pulling it from beneath your shirt entirely, much to your dismay.

"Is that all?" Alastor asked you, to which you shook your head no, taking a moment as you searched for the confidence to continue with this debauchery.

"I thought about... how your lips felt on mine, and your tongue on my skin," you whispered, hearing the sound of his belt buckle being undone, but you dare not look away as the pleasure began to build higher and higher with each pump of his black tendril.

"And...?" he urged you on, his own face inching closer to yours as he pushed his trousers and briefs down far enough to free his leaking cock from their confines.

"And I thought- ... fuck-! Hahhh..." you moaned, fighting the urge to look down as you felt his hand take hold of yours. You were so, so close! The last thing you wanted to do was irritate him in any way, potentially risking him edging you even further than you had edged yourself night after night. "... I thought about the way you fucked me with your hand, and your tongue," you moaned when you felt a second tendril bump against your clit, rubbing up and down on the sensitive little bud.

"Keep going," Alastor told you, guiding your hand to his hard length and wrapping your slender digits around it, urging you to pump him - slowly, at first. But as your pleasure built higher and higher, your moans becoming more frequent and louder in volume, he gradually gained speed, wanting to match the pace of the tendrils as they pushed in and out of your squelching cunt. The sounds you made were divine, so much more beautiful than the ones you made with that thing now laying on the floor, completely forgotten by you.

Faster and faster, they moved, and soon it became difficult for you to form a coherent thought, focused solely on the way the tentacle stretched you open wide and the other applied the most delicious amount of pressure to your throbbing clit. "I thought... I thought," you tried to speak, jaw falling slack as you were right on the cusp of release, your walls quivering and thighs shaking as the knot wound tighter and tighter in the pits of your belly. "... I-I thought... about your cock in me," you gasped, your hips rising from the bed just barely and grinding down against the tentacles involuntarily, desperate for that blissful release.

"Don't stop..." Alastor whispered as he lowered his head, his lips mere centimeters from yours as he began to buck into your hand, his own orgasm not far off as he forced you to tighten your grip on his aching cock. Taking a little initiative, you angled your wrist and pressed your thumb to his leaking slit, smearing his precum and using it as lube to pump his cock faster. With the way that he gasped and how his hips jerked forward, you knew he was close to his own release.

"I thought about how you..." you swallowed hard, it was becoming difficult to keep your thoughts straight, to follow his no-looking-away rule, to keep jerking your hand up and down his hardened length as your muscles contracted almost painfully the closer you got to your end. "I thought- ... oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, Alastor-!" you gasped, eyes barely open as you reached with your other hand to lace your fingers in his hair, nails raking over the backs of his ears.

"Say it! Say it, and I'll let you cum," Alastor promised, his breath hitching in his throat as his cock twitched painfully in your hand, a third tentacle joining the first inside your wet walls and pounding into you roughly now, coaxing you closer and closer. Your eyes began to water as you felt the first tether snap, signaling your end as you opened your mouth to do as he obliged.

"I thought about the way you filled me up, and how you made me yours," you said, arching your back as you inhaled deeply, pulling his head further down until your foreheads were pressed together. "A-and about how you made me cum on your cock, over and over aga- ahhn, fuuuck!" you cried when, finally, the coil snapped, and your release crashed over you, your walls clamping down on the tentacles and your vision going white.

"Marvelous..." Alastor praised you as his hips bucked wildly into your hand, his own wrapped around yours and forcing you to maintain your tight grip through your orgasm, chasing his own as you rode yours out. It wasn't long before he was spilling his seed all over your hand and duvet, some of it landing on your bare hip as his own stuttered through each spurt.

"Fuck, fuck..." you mumbled, trying to regain your senses as you tried to come down from your high. You couldn't make sense of the world around you yet, barely taking notice of the tentacles retracting from your pulsing heat and his body from your own. When your vision finally cleared, you looked around for Alastor, soon finding him sitting on his knees between your legs. One clawed hand was stroking his half hard cock until it stood at full attention again, the other pressing against your overly sensitive mound, drawing lazy circles into your clit and sending jolts of pain and pleasure through your whole body.

"Let's make your thoughts a reality, my dear..."

story ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ header ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ dividers ┊ ◜ kodaswrld ✧ strangergraphics ◞ summoning ┊ ◜ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @minkdelovely ✧ @sugoi-writes ✧ @fraugwinska ✧ @macabr3-barbi3 ◞

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