#my grammar isn't so hot in this post

[bunni-v1]

What do we have here…?

🍓Couldn’t get sending Harumasa nudes out of my head and then I saw @mini-ism post about Caesar going through Livhters phone and had Jimmy Neutron Brain blast. (My moots are so awesome and talented and everyone should give them love). Like... what DO they have on their phone, if anything? So that's what this is. Also took this as my chance to write for my favorite straight white cat boy Seth.

Tw: Nsfw; recording during sex; rough sex (all); somnophilia (Harumasa); breeding kink (Seth); bottom harumasa and seth; Mommy kink (seth); grammar errors (inevitable)

Info: Fem bodied reader (no pronouns i think? use of mommy though); Harumasa x Reader; Lighter x Reader; Seth x Reader; I tried to add plot but who am I kidding this is porn

Harumasa Asaba

The first time Asaba Harumasa asked to record you during sex, you declined. He'd wanted it so he could use it at work, during those days that he really needed you most. It's not like you were shy about your body, especially not with him. He'd seen you naked a million times and done more than just admire your body on numerous occasions. You just didn't want to do it, not with the risk of his very important friends possibly seeing them. The idea of sweet Sokaku sneaking on his phone and somehow finding the videos was mortifying, to say the least. The consequences afterward would probably be even worse, you'd never be able to look Yanagi in the eyes again.

So, you told him no, and who is Asaba to press you on something like that. Feminism was hot, or whatever. He just wanted to see what he could get away with. Little did he know he planted a seed in your brain that kept on growing and growing until, one night, you asked him if he was still into the whole recording you thing.

He wanted to say "No fucking duh." But instead, he smiled and nodded all cute-like, "Oh? I thought you didn't want to? Don't tell me you've been holding out on me now..." And thus began your unexpected obsession with making amateur porn.

Harumasa isn't an idiot, of course, he keeps everything in a hidden folder within a hidden folder, accessible via a password only he knows. (He would give up any chance at living a long life to keep Sokaku as far away from his porn stash as possible). It's surprisingly well organized, coming from him at least. Categorized by type (picture and videos), who was topping, and which kinks you indulged in.

His personal favorites, though, are saved in a separate folder within those already existing folders. They're his go-to when he's feeling so very pent up at work and needs release fast enough that Yanagi won't come looking for him. Like right now, the phone under the desk and the volume just loud enough that only he could make it out by straining his ears. A little treat for his hard work today.

The first one starts out with shaky camera work -- you'd grabbed and started recording in a hurry like you realized this one would make good content for him. (You were right, as usual). The sun is peaking through the curtains of his dark apartment, and with the light, he can just barely make out his sleeping face. You pan the camera down, and one of your hands is gently tracing along his slowly hardening cock, already free and begging for you to suck it. It jumps in your hand as you rub the tip, and then all of a sudden the camera flips and he gets to see your face. You have eyebags under your eyes and your hair is sticking out in several places with little bruises littering your collarbones. Just how he likes you. Shuffling follows and the camera jerks around awkwardly until it rests on his abdomen and refocuses on you, dick still in hand and eyes blinking innocently at the camera.

You tap the tip against your cheek a few times, Harumasa's hips pressing up into your hand as you do so. You smile a little at him offscreen, and it's almost affectionate until you swallow him down in one go. What you can't fit in your mouth you fist with your hand, bobbing in a perfectly trained rhythm that he knows would have him seeing stars. His hips awkwardly jerk, but you take him so well that it doesn't even bother you. The camera shifts again as Harumasa himself begins to wake up. A confused, "Oh fuck," is moaned out in the background, just barely audible over the heavenly sound of you sucking and swallowing him up. Then, your eyes flutter up, right as a hand fists its way into your hair. The video cuts shortly after that, leaving the rest of it up to his impeccable memory.

The next one is a bit longer, and honestly humiliating for him, but he can't get enough of it. Again you're holding the camera, but this time he is awake. It starts with your hand on his ass, marked with the harsh imprint of your strikes, bright and red and sure to bruise (it did). You make sure to get a good angle of yourself pounding him into the sheets, the sounds of squelching mixed with incoherent babbling from him something sinful. You glide your hand over his bare back, camera following along, then tug on his fluffy black hair. He lets out a pathetic whine as you push the camera into his fucked out face. Cheeks red, drool dripping down his chin, eyes watery and unfocused. It's all he can do to answer you when you finally ask, "You were a good boy today, weren't you Harumasa? Tell the camera how good you were today."

"Yessss, 'm a very good boy~" He hiccups out through your harsh thrusts.

You coo at him, pressing a little kiss to his cheek which gets him smiling like a moron in the video, "You know what good boys get to do, right?"

He visibly jolts in the frame, right as you wrap your pretty fingers around his swollen cock just out of frame. A whorish moan leaves his mouth as you pick up the pace, determined to make him cum. His whole face twists in pleasure as he cries out your name, releasing all over your fingers and the sheets. The camera flips, and you're giggling as you spread the covered hand playfully for the camera. "Such a good boy~" You hum, and the video cuts as you begin sucking each finger clean.

The last one he has, which is the only one where he's holding the camera, is his personal favorite. You're in the Section 6 office, legs spread out and perched wobbly on the arms of his desk chair. Miyabi, Yanagi, and Sokaku were all out for lunch and you'd been so sweet to bring him the one he'd 'accidentally' forgotten at home. His pace was fast and rough as he slammed into you. He preferred taking things slow, but even he had to admit he liked the thrill of a quicky in such an open area. One hand comes down to hold your thigh at a different angle, and you let out the squeakiest excuse for his name he'd ever heard. "I thought you didn't want them to see you like this... you're awfully contradictory~" He teases from behind the camera, not that you have it in you to do anything but whine at him. "What would Miyabi think of you..." He tuts, "and poor Tsukishiro might have a heart attack... how shameless can you be?"

He zooms in on your face, head thrown back and mouth stuck wide open with empty gasps just begging to become moans. Your body shakes as his thrusts become less fast and more rough, skin slapping against skin in the quiet office on the very desk he was scrolling through his phone. He can see his name form on your lips.

"Harumasa," Came Yanagi's voice instead, he jumps, quickly locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket, "I understand paperwork is boring, but scrolling on your phone is-"

"Unacceptable, I know," He sighs, "I'm getting to it I promise. Just... right after a quick bathroom break, okay?"

He's up and gone before she can respond, already deciding which video he should watch to fix his little issue. Oh! Or he could ask you for a new one right now, it'd been a minute since he'd gotten you masturbating.

Lighter Lorenz

Lighter didn't get the appeal of it at first. Why would he settle for videos and pictures when the real thing was so much better? Just didn't make sense to him, but sure, he'd let you do what you want. You were damn adorable with how excited you got when he said yes to another video or picture.

It wasn't until an extended period of time away from you that he realized how badly he was missing out. He was horny and you were too far away to do anything about it and no matter what he imagined he could not get off for the life of him. So, he caves and asks you to send one of those videos you'd made. It was probably the fastest he'd cum by himself since getting with you.

Lighter admits defeat, you were right, those videos are something else. Not nearly as good as the real thing, but close enough when he needed it. He's very selective about what does and does not get filmed though. There are some moments he wants to keep just between the two of you, no cameras or anything like that. However, once he gets into it he really gets into it, and those videos are cinema for amateur pornstars.

He keeps the videos and pictures in an unlabeled folder on his phone, not nearly as meticulous about hiding it as Harumasa or Seth might be. He didn't have the risk factor, the girls wouldn't go through his phone without asking first, and he wasn't careless enough to leave it out for others to dig through its contents. He also wasn't stupid enough to look through his little stash with others around, always waiting until he was completely isolated to look.

You were out for the night doing something or another for someone, too kind for your own good, leaving only Lighter and his hand to keep his dick company. He clicks open the folder, smiling to himself when he's met with pretty pictures of you.

He scrolls a bit, then clicks on a more recently recorded one. The camera is focused on your stomach, just low enough that he can see the flared red tip of his dick teasing your swollen clit. A deep chuckle sounds from behind the camera, followed by a grumpy little whine from you. He takes the hint, sliding his tip down and slowly dipping it into your drooling cunt. You let out the cutest squeal as he stretches you out, his hips angling up so his cock presses against your tummy.

The camera zooms in on the outline of his tip, pressing just below your navel. You babble something incoherent, and Lighter hums like it's the most interesting thing in the world. His calloused hand comes into view, tracing the outline with a low hiss. "Fuck, you feel me inside baby?" You mumble something out again, a much smaller hand sliding under his. He presses down as you trace a finger over him, and a whorish moan leaves your mouth. He ruts himself into you, hand pressing down so both of you could feel just how deep inside he was. Your body trembles with each hard thrust, and the camera work gets shakier and shakier the louder Lighter gets until it stops altogether after an annoyed groan — literally thrown across the room so he could focus more on you.

The next one he picks among a sea of delicacies is an older one, one of the first he'd agreed to make with you. The camera is set up on the nightstand, angled nicely so he could see your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips up into yours. You're wearing his scarf around your neck, and you look like sex incarnate hopping up and down on him.

His veiny hands grab at your hips, guiding each movement with careful precision. You're leaned back, head thrown to the sky as you call his name like a mantra. Each thrust makes your voice peak a little higher, the only thing louder being the slap of wet skin on skin. One particularly rough thrust has you keening, falling forward to press your sweaty face to his just out of frame. He can see your hips roll desperately into his own for all of a few seconds before his hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up so he can bully his cock into your abused pussy. The whole bed shakes as the headboard slams into the wall, the camera tumbling to the ground forgotten as it records your brainless sobs over the sound of his brutal pace. A weird habit he’s noticed consistently in these videos.

He's close, he can feel it, as he strokes himself a little faster. Just needed the perfect thing to push him over the edge. He taps one of your personal favorites, citing it as 'the most fun' for you to film. In it, he is holding the camera down, you're kneeling between his legs, head resting on his thigh as your deft fingers play with his member. You smile up at him, sliding the bead of precum around the tip like a game.

He's huge in your hand, and it's a miracle you manage to fit your slim fingers around his fat cock. Slowly stroking down, then back up, your thumb sure to run over that vein that made his toes curl. You keep a steady pace, teasing him with the sweetest grin on your face.

"Feelin' good baby?" You purr up at him, amused at what is likely a very red faced Lighter.

There's an audible swallow, and the camera shakes as he answers, "Real good. Takin' good care 'f me."

You giggle, satisfied with the answer enough to lean down and start sucking on his balls. Your other hand scraped against his thigh, the muscles beneath tensing at the sensation. The sound of your sucking, mixed in with his little whimpers has him cumming prematurely, not that it stops him from fucking his hand through his orgasm. The video continues on like that, you teasing him to the edge and denying him his orgasm like a monster. Unlike then, he had quiet the mess to clean up now.

He thinks better of just cleaning it up, though. Instead snapping a quick picture and sending it to you with a little, 'Miss you.'

Seth Lowell

Seth is an incredibly polite, considerate, sweetheart who would never in a million years dream of asking to record you during sex. He might just be the most vanilla guy in all of New Eirdu, and recording seems... a little violating of your privacy. It's not something he considers an option.

Until one day, after a very long week where you and Seth hadn't seen each other for more than a few hours thanks to his work schedule. He's lying in the dorms, texting you about mundane tasks when you throw out how much you miss him. He obviously misses you too, and says so. You ask him if he would like to see how much you miss him, and the sweet thing he is the undertone goes right over his head. He expects a picture of you maybe pouting, doing something you would typically do together by yourself.

When he opens it he's greeted by you, two fingers deep in your own cunt, pretty juices glistening in the dim lighting of your bedroom -- oh god is that his shirt you're wearing? He short circuits, literally just staring slack-jawed at the phone for god knows how long until one of his buddies comes in and starts poking fun at him. He slams the phone down, and he makes it home in record time. That was all the convincing he needed from you to record your (rather basic) sexual escapades.

Seth does not save the videos, ever. They're all in your text chain, pinned there for easy access, but he refuses to keep them in his album. Way too risky for him with his family and his coworkers and... well... knowing himself. They're really only there for you, he doesn't have any free time to watch them and get off. He does, however like watching them when he's alone in the dorms for the night. Just a nice reminder of what he'll be doing next time he sees you.

Like this one, where the camera is pointed down on him, red-faced and teary-eyed as you ride him like no tomorrow. His chest is littered with little purple love bites, and your fingers splay out across them as you roll your hips deliciously against him. He whimpers in the video, shying away from the camera. The hand on his chest reaches over to flick his already too-hard nipple, twisting it a little. A giggle bubbles out of your chest when he keens.

"You like it when I ride you, don't you Seth...?" You coo, tracing your fingers over to the other nipple to give it attention. He nods with a whine, biting back his moans. You pinch him harshly as punishment, "Use your words."

He sighs, humiliated at the degradation, but swallows his pride and responds, "Yes Mommy."

He grimaces at his own voice, quickly closing out of the video to find something a little less... vocal. He settles on one where the camera is pointed down, you're wearing pretty blue lingerie. In this one, he's between your legs, ears flattened back as he gives you little kitten licks to your sensitive bud. The rough texture of his tongue makes your legs twitch, nearly closing on him, but fighting themselves back open.

He looks up to the camera, or more so past it, to look at you just begging for approval. Your hand comes into the frame, rubbing at one of his ears encouragingly. He lights up, taking the sign as his chance to swallow you down. He dives in like a kitten into milk, slurping and sucking with your hand guiding his movements. Your little sighs of approval get his tail curling up in the air behind him. Your little happy kitty, servicing you like the queen you are. “Good boy~” You coo so sweetly, and his tail twitches excitedly behind him.

He smiles fondly at the phone, was it weird to find it more cute than hot. Maybe he was too lovestruck. It didn't matter too much to him as he found one that you had favorited in the chat. He... didn't remember this one at all from the thumbnail, it got him curious.

The first thing he's greeted by is you face down in the sheets, his pale hand pushing your head into the pillows. Then he hears the wet slapping of skin, the camera following down to show where he was fucking you from behind. His entire abdomen is literally shimmering with a mix of your and his cum, the sticky white substance quite literally all over your back and his hands now that he was looking.

This was... he can't believe he had the mental capacity to think to record himself fucking you during his heat. His cock stirs in his pants, but he's too curious to stop watching before he screws himself over too much. The camera shifts as he leans over you, giving it a perfect view as he bites into the back of your neck. Your face is stained with tears, and your mouth is wide open with pleasure -- no sound escaped though, and Seth realizes that he'd fucked your throat raw in this video.

"Gonna fuck you full of my kits, wanna make you a real Mommy. That's okay, right? You wanna have my babies too don't you?" his rough voice mumbles into your skin, and you only nod in response, too fucked out to really do anything else.

He thinks the video will end there, but instead, the camera pulls up again as Seth pulls out. A broken, muted wail leaves you at the loss, but Seth ignores it in favor of recording your used pussy. Globs of cum leak out of it, down your thighs, and Seth's nimble fingers scoop it up and shove it back inside like in a trance. He clicks his phone off at that, way too flustered at the sight.

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he falls back into the uncomfortable bedding of the dorm. Great, now he was rock-hard and had no way of getting off. He had work in two hours, but there was no way he'd be getting any sleep like this. He frowns at his lock screen, a picture of the two of you together. You wouldn't mind if he came home and interrupted your rest that much, would you?

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPOST TOUR NAP * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Chris finally have their first afternoon-post lunch nap after a whole month of Surprise Party Tour.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: Had my first afternoon nap today after years without one and had this idea 🤭.

It was somewhere around 3:07 p.m., maybe 3:11 if you counted how long it took for the dishwasher to hum to life in the kitchen.

It was dark - even though the sun still shined high up outside, paired with the soft whirring of the AC above their heads.

Y/N had gotten there first, obviously. She’d brushed her teeth right after she finished her plate, slipping into her - Chris's - favorite oversized pajama shirt. Now she was all cocooned up on the left side of the bed, curled inward with the blanket pulled over her head.

Her phone was somewhere on the floor, forgotten, her face still faintly warm from the leftover sunburn from their constant walks from one gas station to another when the boys' bus tour made its road pauses.

Chris finally padded in.

Barefoot, teeth freshly brushed, hair slightly messy. His shorts sat low on his hips, and he stretched his arms up with a deep, lazy sigh before walking over to the bed and lifting the blanket.

"Food was s'good, babe." He mumbled as he climbed in, voice gravelly and thick, words coming out like they were too heavy to carry, letting them roll out slow and warm.

Y/N, already half-asleep, turned her head just a little, barely cracking an eye open to find him through the golden light.

"Yeah?" She whispered, a small smile playing on her lips, her voice light and smushed into the pillow.

Chris let out a small hum, the sound vibrating in his chest before slipping out, all content and sleepy.

"Mmhmm. Missed your food s'fucking much this past month."

She chuckled softly, but didn’t answer, because Chris was already tugging her closer.

His big, warm hands found her under the blanket like it was second nature, sliding beneath her shirt with zero resistance, just to feel her skin.

Cold fingers, warm belly.

She twitched at the contrast and let out a little breathy laugh, which made Chris grin lazily.

"Sorry, sorry. Hands are cold." He said, even though he didn’t move them away. He just pressed them flatter, warmer now, against her waist, then her hips, then settled at her lower back. "Need to be close."

Y/N melted, humming lowly.

He tugged gently, so naturally, pulling her entire body toward his like he was some sleepy human magnet. Legs tangled without even thinking, one of his knees slipped between her thighs, the other looping behind her leg and keeping her still.

He was warm. Not hot. Warm. Like a heated blanket but with a heartbeat and muscles.

She snuggled in, arms folding up between them, tucked right against his chest. That spot between his ribs and exactly where their bodies almost smushed too close to breathe, but neither of them cared.

Her nose bumped his. His lips ghosted her forehead.

Chris let out another one of those soft groans, the type that wasn’t really a groan, more like a sleep-noise. Low and scratchy.

He shifted just a bit, getting even comfier - if that was possible - and then exhaled. His puff of breath hit her skin, hot and sweet-smelling, like leftover toothpaste and warm seasoning from earlier.

"This is heaven." He murmured.

She nodded into his chest, her arms pressing him tighter, nose brushing the curve of his jaw now, smiling faintly with the small hairs finally starting to grow freely after a whole month of constantly shaving.

"Missed this."

"Yeah." He agreed, sleepily. "Couldn't take another day of sleepin' like a fucking crushed jelly."

Y/N giggled, barely a sound, all muffled and soft, because how the hell did he thought of that?, and he smiled without opening his eyes.

He moved his head a little, awkwardly searching for her mouth, his chin bumping against hers too many times before finally meeting her soft lips, mouth barely moving but still pressed to hers.

Then he moved again.

One right on her cheek. Another on her nose. One more by the corner of her mouth that lingered longer than the rest. His lips were plush and slow, not rushed, just affectionate. Like he wanted to memorize her without actually waking them up.

She shifted her head again until their faces were ridiculously close, noticing how she was now laying on his pillow with him. Their noses brushed, again and again, in tiny, sweet nudges like they were dancing. And Chris, eyes still closed, leaned in and kissed her fully this time.

A lazy, slow-sinking kind of kiss, if this can even be called a kiss. All lips and sleepy love.

"Love you." He whispered, right into her mouth, like it was a secret.

"Love you more." She replied, and he smiled again, because that always made him wince a little - he never won that one, and she knew it.

They stayed like that. Breathing each other in. Her fingers curled into his shirt, just gently fisting it like she never wanted him to move.

Eventually, they didn’t moved anymore. The nap rolled in like a wave, the type of nap where you don’t even notice you’ve fallen asleep until you’re waking up hours later and the blanket’s slipped halfway off the bed and one of you’s drooled a little, but you still don’t wanna get up.

Because, finally, there was nothing else in their heads at that moment.

Just Chris to her.

Just her to Chris.

© vanteguccir

[bbitches]

A Year || LN4

summary: A year can really change someone in a lot of ways.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

notes: THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO LMK WHAT YOU THINK! also english is literally my third language and this isn't proof read/ grammar checked so mistakes are bound to appear :(

SMAU/ Written

Summer 2023

Max Fewtrell added a video to their story.

tagged: @/yourusername @/LandoNorris

yourusername posted!

yourusername Ibiza!!

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, maxfewtrell and 94,879 other

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/MaxFewtrell

user1 DJ LANDO!!

user2 y/n feeding us dj land content. she's the real queen here

user3 I thought y/n said she didn't like to go clubbing

➥ user4 maybe she's just there to be with lando

user5 bro did anyone see that video on TikTok? y/n looked so uncomfortable I feel so bad for her

➥ user6 RIGHT?

➥ user7 she's such a good girlfriend, if I were her, I would've just left lando at the club by himself lolol

user8 salivating bc Dj landooo

user9 BARK BARK BARK

➥ user10 y/n looking at this be like...

user11 does anyone know what club theyre at?!! I'm in ibiza I wanna meet them!!

➥ user12 bro leave them alone

➥ user13 @/user12 I don't see a problem 🤷

-

You never liked clubbing.

After all, you were only here because of Lando.

The music was too loud, people were pushing up against you, you never really liked to drink because you had a really low alcohol tolerance, you could make an entire list of why a club was not your go-to hang out.

"Lan," you yelled, trying to speak over the music, "Yeah?" He said, taking one side of his DJ headphones off so he could speak to you.

"Can we go back?" You asked. There was nothing you wanted more than to go back to the comfort of your hotel room with your boyfriend.

"It's only midnight." Lando said, "Why would you wanna go back? Are you not having fun?" Land asks you, but you could tell he wasn't really focused on you. You could see it in his eyes.

"I don't wanna stay any longer, clubbing isn't really my thing." You said, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"Soon, baby, okay?" Lando said, not even giving you a chance to protest before turning back to his DJ set.

You sighed in defeat, before retreating to a quieter corner of the club.

It was going to be a long night, like any other you've spent in a club, with Lando.

Summer 2024

Max Fewtrell added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

yourusername added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

Lando Norris added a photo to their story.

caption: taking pictures of my pretty girl

tagged: @/lando.jpg @/yourusername

yourusername ibizaaaa im backk

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux and 107,897 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/yourbestfriend @/MaxFewtrell

alexandrasaintmleux miss you! ♥ by author

lilymhe ditch him for me!!! ♥ by author

➥ yourusername say less 💍

➥ landonorris ???????? @/AlexAlbon

➥ alexalbon atp im used to it

user1 both of them are so pretty its not fair

user2 no DJ Lando content?!

user3 Not even following y/n because she's lando's girlfriend, im following her bc she's Y/N

user4 that jawline

user5 why do they keep going back to Ibiza

➥ user6 litt, like, why can't they go literally ANYWHERE ELSE

user7 OMGOMGMG I WAS tHERE AND I SAW LANDO GO UP TO Y/N FROM BEHIND AND LITERALLY PULLED HER INTO HIM BY THE WAIST AHHHHHHHHHH

➥ user8 WHATTTTT

➥ user9 picture or it didn't happen

user10 dj lando...?

-

You were about to head to the bar to get another drink, seeing as Lando wouldn't want to leave anytime soon, and your best friend was probably hooking up with some hot Spanish guy, when you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne surrounding you, along with the smell of alcohol.

Lando nuzzled his head into your neck, mumbling something quietly, so quiet you couldn't hear him over the club music.

"What is it?" You said, raising your voice slightly, so he could hear you over the loud buzzing of the club music.

"Nothing." He mumbled, "Missed you, is all."

A small smile unwittingly showed up on your face, "Im gonna go get a drink. Go party."

But, Lando shook his head, "Can we go back to the hotel? I wanna cuddle." He said into your neck, instinctively pulling you closer.

You were shocked, to say the least. A year ago, he wouldn't leave the club no matter how hard you tried to convince him. He was a party animal, but now, he was asking if you wanted to leave.

You checked the time on your phone, it was barely midnight, Lando never left anything before midnight, let alone a club.

"Why, are you feeling sick?" You asked him, turning around to face him.

His arms wrapped themselves back around your waist, "What?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "No." He said, "just wanna cuddle with you."

"That's new." You commented as you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"I always wanna cuddle." Lando said.

"Yeah, but not at the extent of leaving the club early." You said.

"Can we please go?" He mumbled again, looking at you like a puppy.

You nodded after a few seconds, "Never liked clubbing that much anyway, I only come to be with you."

As Lando and you and Lando were heading towards the exit of the club, you bumped into Max (Fewtrell). "Leaving so soon?" He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," Lando nodded, "Going back to the hotel to cuddle with my girl." He said, raising you hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"You've really changed him," Max joked, "Lando being the first to leave? Never in a billion years."

You laughed, "Believe me, I don't believe it either."

"Can we go?" Lando all but whined.

You laughed again, "Okay, okay, lets go."

You waved goodbye to Max and led Lando out the club, and when Max saw his best friend look at you like you were the one who hung the stars in the sky, he knew you'd changed him for the better. And that his best mate was well and truly, in love.

-

yourusername sleepy boy chronicles 🤪

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 108,950 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris

landonorris at least I look cute ♥ by author

➥ yourusername can't disagree with that

user1 how does one fall asleep in the middle of packing?

user2 hes jus like us  🥺

➥ user3 relatable king

landonorris I was only that tired because you kept me up all night doing cardio..

user4 lando and y/n are so cute tgt I cannot

user5 Im convinced Lando only made it to 24 because of Y/n

➥ yourusername I mean..

➥ landonorris hey!

user6 Lando has no bad angles

user7 I SAW THAT LANDO

➥ user8 y/n is just a girl and lando is just a boy.. they need their cardio ;) ♥ by author

➥ user8 Y/N PLS MARRY ME

landonorris ❤️

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 709,897 others

yourusername is this what you do in your free time? take pictures of pretty girls?

➥ landonorris only of the ones that I love more than anything

➥ yourusername so you're saying there's more than one? 🤨

maxfewtrell Happy for you, mate ♥ by author

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[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 1

Source for pic

Imperfect 1

Word Count: 3591

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Angry!Kid; Hurt!Kid; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Heavy Angst With Happy Ending; Banter; Miscommunication; Dealing With Trauma; Living With Trauma; PTSD; Overprotective!Shanks; BestFriend!Killer; Feelings Realisation; Denial of Feelings; Uncorresponded Feelings; Survivor's Guilt; Self-Loathing; Mentions of Death; Alcohol Abuse; Hurt; Violence; Discovering of Emotional Vulnerability;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2: I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter. Your first interaction with Kid is in those chapters! If you don't want to read the other characters, I recommend reading, at least, Kid's Chapter since it's the first interaction!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. Then there's Kid, the gruff, hot-headed mechanic, who gets under your skin in more ways than one. The chemistry between you is undeniable and you can't keep your hands to yourselves. Until he starts to push you away. Each time you think he's let you in, he just shoves you further, it's such a maddening, dizzying push and pull that you don't know how much more your heart can take before it crumbles.

Notes: Okay, ready for this crazy ride? I think this story will be the longest of the bunch, so far. But it's one I'm dying to share. As per usual, I hope to post one chapter per week (I'm sorry in advance if that goal isn't met). And, as per usual again, please enjoy the first angst-free chapters before the proverbial 💩 hits the fan!

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

You knew your car was unreliable, your dad told you so, and you had witnessed it firsthand, but damn it, why did the thing have to die on you when you were alone in the middle of nowhere? 

After lunch with the girls, you decided to drive your piece-of-crap car to the beach to unwind a little. Your conversation with Sanji had brought up memories of Ichiji, your ex-fiancé, that you had not wanted to revisit. The beach seemed like the perfect place to relax.

And it was. 

Until it was time for you to leave, when the stupid car suddenly sputtered, coughed, and began spewing fumes through the hood. 

“Stupid piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath while kicking the front tire. Opening the hood makes you grimace as you’re assaulted by smoke, which promptly spurs a coughing fit. With a heavy sigh and a slight sag of your shoulders, you resign yourself to your fate, leaning against the car and watching the sun dip lower on the horizon as you fish out your phone. 

There’s no use calling Shanks. Your dad said he and Beckman were watching the game, which means that both men are probably well into their beers, and you don’t want your dad to risk his life by driving the truck tipsy, so you do a quick internet search for a mechanic in town. 

There’s only one: ‘The Damned Punk Garage’

“What the hell…?” What kind of name for a mechanic’s shop is that? With an exasperated breath, you rely on the four-star rating and ignore the comments about the owner being a hothead, praying for someone reliable and not someone who’ll take advantage of you - this is a small town with practically zero crime rate, after all - and dial the number.

“‘Sup?” Really? The voice is rough and gruff on the other end, but somewhat familiar, though you can’t quite place it.

“Erm… hi? My car broke down near the beach, I’m stranded. Is there any way you can come and fix it, or tow it, or something?” You roll your eyes and smack your forehead. Why does it sound like you’re asking for a favour? You’re going to pay for the service, dumbass.

“Aye, send me yer location.” 

Wait… this accent is more than familiar.

“Kid?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Who’d ye expect?” he sighs on the other side of the line like he has something better to do, and you hear the clinking of tools over some loud rock music.

“I dunno! I’ve been away for years, smarty pants, how would I know that you own the only garage in town? I’m Shanks’ daughter.” You tell him your name with another exasperated roll of your eyes.

“Sparkles?” Suddenly, his voice sounds lighter, a hint of mischief in his tone, which pulls a light smirk from your lips as well. “I’ll be damned. Ye need me already? Missed me that much?” He chuckles, and so do you.

“Guess I do. Up to the task, big man? Or are you all talk and no action?”

He barks a laugh on the other end of the line, and you hear the roaring of an engine in the background. “I’m always up to the task, City Girl. But I’ll let ye find that out yerself.” He pulls away from the phone as his words sound further away. “Hey, Kill. Ready up the tow, we got a job to do.” 

Kill?

Then his voice sounds closer again. “Send me yer location, then, we’ll be right there to fix yer shitty car in time for supper.”

-*- 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the sound of a motorcycle approaching in the distance. You barely take notice because Kid talked about a tow truck, so it must be someone who came to the beach just in time to catch the sunset. 

But when the red-and-black Harley comes to a full stop next to you, you turn, brow raised. It is Kid. He drops the kickstand, steadying the bike as he dismounts in a move that’s way sexier than it should be, before removing his helmet, a huge grin already plastered on his lips. 

You can’t stop a smile from curving your lips at the sight of him. His cocky attitude rubbing off on you in all the right ways. 

“Ye did miss me.” Tilting his head to the side while running his fingers through his unkempt hair, he gives you a once-over, his brow raising in appreciation, and you bite your lower lip at the attention. “Lookin’ good there, Sparkles.”

You pull away from the car and cross your arms, fighting a shiver since the weather has turned nippy now that the sun has just set. “You’re quite conceited, aren’t you?”

Kid places his helmet on the handlebar of the bike and removes his leather jacket, not missing the way your eyes linger on his exposed biceps because he’s only wearing a greased-up grey tank top. You raise your brow as you notice that this time he has a metal prosthetic arm on - he didn’t have it when you met him at the farm. “Maybe. But yer still oglin’ me, so I think I have a right to be.” His grin deepens. 

You feel your cheeks burn as you clear your throat and look away, choosing to point at the car’s open hood instead. “Shitty car’s dead. Can you fix it or not?”

Kid stares at you with that impossibly cocky grin for a few more moments before reaching under his bike seat and grabbing a tool belt. 

“‘Course I can fix it, City Girl. It’s what I do.” Then he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, not even stopping to acknowledge the gesture. “Hold this, will ya?” he says nonchalantly, but you’re pretty sure he did it because he saw you shiver. 

After a few moments of fidgeting with the engine, curses spewing from his lips like a second language, he grunts. “Shit’s really dead. I need parts. Gonna take it to the shop and finish up there, okay?”

You tilt your head to the side, your arms hugging your body, though now that you’ve slipped on his jacket you feel warmer. In more ways than one, because it smells so much like him that you swear you’re becoming intoxicated.

“Weren’t you going to bring the tow?”

As if on cue, you hear a truck approach and stop next to you. A tall man with a blonde mane descends from the steps, the lower half of his face is hidden behind a skull-patterned black-and-white bandana, his eyes shadowed behind bangs. 

“Hey, Killer,” Kid says. “Meet Sparkles,” he adds while pointing at you with his thumb. “Sparkles, this is Killer, he works with me.”

You frown. “Nice to meet you, Killer. That’s not my name, though.” 

“Sorry, it’s City Girl,” Kid adds with a shit-eating grin before you can even say your name.

“It’s not!” You stamp your foot, much like an exasperated child, and Kid grins, rolling his wrench between two fingers while leaning against your car. Then you turn back to Killer and introduce yourself properly. 

“Nice to meet you too,” he answers. “I’m sorry if my friend has no manners, I don’t condone his behaviour at all.” Kid grumbles something at him, and Killer’s eyes wrinkle as he turns back to his friend, almost as if he’s grinning behind his mask. “I get what you meant the other day, man, I can see why you were so smitten.”

Your eyes widen as your mouth opens in shock. Kid leans away from the car, his hands balling into fists as he bares his teeth at Killer. “What the fuck, man?”

Killer raises his hands in mock defense, and his shoulders shake as if he’s containing a laugh. “Just stating facts, brother.”

Does this mean that Kid talked to him about you? You feel your cheeks flush with heat. You have to admit that there’s definitely an attraction between you two. Clearly, the banter and flirting come easily, the question is, is this a door you want to open? So soon after your breakup? Or is this exactly the time to open it and see what’s on the other side? Even if it’s just a fun ride?

“Shut up, asshole, and haul this piece of junk out of here. Needs new spark plugs, I’ll take care of it in the shop.” Kid’s still grumbling, his eyes not even meeting yours after the revelation, which clearly means that it’s true. 

Killer raises one of his brows, his head tilting like he’s suspicious. “Plugs? But we have–”

“In the shop, ‘k?” Kid nearly snarls, and Killer shuts up with a slight, barely audible chuckle. Then he starts to prepare the tow, readying the cable to latch it onto your car. 

You sigh, looking at your car, the banter and fun forgotten for a moment. “Well, crap.” You grab your phone, already thinking about calling Nami or Robin to come rescue you when Kid speaks. 

“Need a ride, Sparkles?” Your eyes leave your phone to look at your car, then at the tow, then back at Kid with a puzzled expression. Yes, maybe you can ride the tow truck back to the shop, it would certainly be closer to home. “Nuh-uh. There.” He uses two fingers to press against your cheek and move your head so you’re staring at his motorcycle, and your breath hitches. “Aye. That one.”

Biting your lower lip to try and suppress a grin, you nod softly. Riding on the back of a motorcycle with Kid? Hell yeah. Shit. Maybe you’ll be opening that door way sooner than you expected. “Sure.” You answer, not sure if you managed to hide your excitement, maybe not even caring if you didn’t. 

“Kill–”

“Yeah, yeah, meet you at the shop, got it.” You can almost perceive the amusement behind Killer’s words, even though you can’t see his lips to confirm if he’s smiling or not. 

You take your purse and keys from the car, handing the latter to Killer, and then approach the bike, looking at it both in awe and slight fear. Kid, never letting his smirk falter, grabs the helmet and hands it to you. “Ye can keep the jacket on, it gets cold.”

You nod and slip on the helmet. Your fingers search the underside for the straps, but as you struggle, Kid tuts and reaches, meaning to strap it on for you in a gesture that’s way more intimate than it should be. You look at him through the opening in the visor and his eyes dart to yours twice - as he fumbles with the strap - before he snaps it shut with a grunt. “Stop yer starin’.”

“I wasn’t!” You counter with a muffled voice.

“Ye were! Makin’ me fumble with this piece of shit while I– fuck. Got it!”

“Smooth, man,” Killer says as he passes both of you, moving to pull the car in with the winch.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kid grumbles and sits on the bike. “Come on, place yer foot on the peg and hop on.”

You do as he tells you, and once you're seated, you hesitate. Where should you put your hands? Around him? That's the obvious choice, but is it too intimate? 

Kid turns his face to look at you over his shoulder and reaches for your hands. “Grab on, I ain't gonna bite ye.��� Though his cheeky grin tells you differently, and now you're glad the helmet is covering your flushing cheeks. He places your hands over his stomach and tells you to interlock your fingers and hold on tight. “Hang on, Sparkles, I drive fast.”

You barely have time to reply when he starts revving the engine. The powerful bike trembles and roars beneath you, and you instantly clench your thighs against Kid for support, holding your arms around him tighter. 

He barks a smug laugh, removes the kickstand, and starts to drive. The wind blows, rushing through you at an incredible speed, the bike roars and Kid drives it like he owns the road, like he has complete control of the machine beneath him and the winding asphalt beneath the wheels. 

It makes your breath hitch and your stomach tighten up. Astonishingly, not from the speed, but from the fact that this cockiness, this assuredness of his, is infuriating. 

And frankly, hot as hell. 

The road stretches ahead without any curves, and he tests both the bike and you by picking up speed. Gritting your teeth, you hug him tighter, feeling the heat radiate through his body - even though the wind is quite chilling. You swear you feel his shoulders shake with laughter.

As you reach town limits, he slows down, one hand loses its grip on the handlebar, and pats your thigh two times. “Ye alright, there, City Girl? Too much adrenaline for ye?”

You can’t see his face, but you know by his tone that he’s grinning. Smug asshole. “Fine!” You yell back, gritting your teeth again to ground yourself. By the time he pulls up at the farmhouse, you exhale a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding back. 

“Got ye home safe, Sparkles.” Kid grins, and you struggle to remove the helmet until he helps you. His fingers linger on your jaw for a fraction of a second longer than they should, and the skin he touches burns. 

“Geez, Kid. You drive like a freaking maniac.” You get off the bike on unsteady feet, and he chuckles as you have to use his arms for support. 

“Maniac? It’s called skill, sweetheart!” 

You scoff, fingers threading through your hair to fix it as a lazy grin curves your lips. “It’s called being reckless, that’s what it is.”

“Oi, yer home safe! Stop complainin’.” He gets into your space, leaning his head down to look right into your eyes, and damn it, his eyes are intense. “Ye liked it.”

The faintest of blushes spreads through your cheeks as you turn and walk one step back to regain some distance from him. “I won’t stroke your ego, it’s already large enough as it is.” Kid snorts, and you know he’s about to pull a dirty joke, so you remove his jacket from your shoulders and extend it to him. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Kid takes one look at the jacket, crosses his arms, and leans against the bike, tilting his head slightly. “Keep it. Looks good on ye.”

“It’s huge,” you say and immediately purse your lips.

“I know.” Kid grins, and you chuckle, curling your fingers around the fabric, you nudge it towards him.

“Take it, Kid, thank you.”

Kid sighs, extending his hand towards the jacket, but when he grabs the collar, he pulls, making you stumble and crash right into his solid chest. Instinctively, his other hand comes up to steady you, wrapped securely around your waist. “Tell ye what, Sparkles,” his hot breath fans your eyelids as you raise your head to meet his gaze, and his scent engulfs you - grease, gasoline, and metal. “Wear it a little longer, and when it smells like ye…” Kid lets out a low grunt, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second. “Give it back.”

Shit.

Fuck.

This is dangerous territory right here. Since you’ve met Kid - cocky, smug, reckless, loud, infuriating - you’ve been walking on thin ice. Everything about him screams ‘bad decision,’ but he also feels right for what you need at the moment. Even when you thought that what you needed was peace and quiet - here comes the loudest man you’ve ever met to prove you wrong. 

Kid lets go of the jacket and removes his hand from your waist, almost as if he, too, is weighing the pros and cons of letting this attraction run its course. Because you can’t deny it: you’re attracted to Kid like a moth to a flame. And, from the looks of it, it’s reciprocated. 

Ignoring the cold feeling his lack of touch leaves in your body, you clear your throat and put the jacket back over your shoulders, trying to suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold, from shaking you. 

“Okay. Thanks. Erm… my car?” Steering the conversation to safer topics seems like the most sensible thing to do. 

Kid clears his throat too, his flesh hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It’ll be fixed by tomorrow mornin’, swing by whenever.” You nod and turn again, your stomach churning at the thought of him leaving, and you sigh. “Might even give ya a discount, City Girl.”

You turn your head back, lips curving into an easy grin. “Yeah?”

“Nah. A man’s gotta take home the bacon.” You let out a chuckle as he gets back on his bike, revving the engine loud just to piss you off. “Don’t think too hard about me.” He winks, and you bite your lower lip, trying to suppress a grin. 

“Think about your cocky ass? In your dreams, Kid.”

Kid places the helmet on his head, hiding the cheeky grin before replying to you. “Sparkles, ye are the star of my dreams.” Then, he slams the visor down, gunning the engine of the bike as it roars to life. The front tire barely budges, but he turns the back of the bike in a sharp turn, letting it slide effortlessly against the gravel as he faces the road. 

Then he speeds off, leaving you staring at the dust he left behind with slightly parted lips. 

Bad decisions. Oh, for sure.

You enter the house, shaking your head, your body still hot from Kid’s touch, your head still light from infinite possibilities. But before you even hang your purse, Shanks appears, coming from the living room with a bit of a sway to his steps. 

“Hey, Bug!” he exclaims. “Was that a bike?” Your father points at the door.

You nod with another heavy sigh. “Stupid car broke down on me, had to call Kid to try and fix it. Killer took it to the garage, but it needs parts, so I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Shanks seems to sober up quickly. His brow raises as if you haven’t answered his question, so you continue. “Kid brought me home on his bike, so yes, that was a bike.”

Shanks purses his lips, his gaze now lingering on the oversized jacket you’re wearing - a leather jacket that’s clearly not yours because Shanks doubts you have something with the logo of Kid’s garage slapped on the back.

But he doesn’t say anything. 

And neither do you.

-*-

Shanks is already sipping his coffee when you come down for breakfast, still yawning. You had some trouble falling asleep because sleep just wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you got a whiff of his scent - that seemed to have clung to your very being - and your mind took you to places where you didn’t want it to.

Even though some of those fantasies were quite interesting.

“Morning, Dad,” you mutter as you fill up your own cup of coffee. “Want some eggs? Toast? Fruit?”

Your father raises his eyebrow at your dishevelled state but keeps his comments to himself. “Toast sounds good, Bug, thank you.”

You nod, yawn again, find two slices of bread for your father, a bagel for you, and stick them in the toaster. 

“Trouble sleeping?” Shanks takes butter and some jam from the fridge, placing them on the table alongside some strawberries and grapes. 

“Yeah, I guess. Something kept me up.” Not looking at your father is the right choice because you can already feel your cheeks heating up. Shanks hums, and you think that might be the end of it because he starts talking about the game and how his team ‘completely sucked’ and how he’s not sure why he’s still a fan.

It’s not until both your plates are cleaned that he finally says the words he has been mulling over. “See, honey, I feel like I need to say something.” He huffs in exasperation as he starts clearing the plates, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. 

“Be careful dealing with Kid, okay?”

What?

“Dealing with Kid?”

“Yeah, I mean… You just met him, and he already gave you his jacket?” Shanks scratches the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. 

“Because it was cold.”

“Sure, but the bike ride–”

“I needed a ride, I knew you wouldn’t be in a fit state to drive, and before I bothered my friends, he volunteered. Dad, I don’t get where this is going.”

Shanks sighs and mutters something unintelligible under his breath. “Right, you’re right. It’s just, you don’t know him very well, and he’s… well, he’s a good man but… well… he’s dangerous.”

Raising a brow, you continue cleaning up the table, still deciding whether you should ask him to elaborate or just let it go. 

He elaborates. 

“He’s an angry man who deals with situations with his fists rather than his brain. I just want you safe, Bug.”

“Dad, as you said, I just met him. He’s fixing my car. That’s it.” But is it, though? “You don’t have to worry, okay? Thanks for the heads-up, though, now come on. Let's feed the animals before I go pick up my car.”

He nods and follows you outside, clearly not meaning to add anything else. But you can’t shake the feeling that his words were very ominous and that you should be careful around Kid. 

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|Chapter 2|

[foamingcleanser]

lucky

★ boyfriend!Nicholas x afab!reader

★ content: unprotected sex, creampie (for my first post? wow) and probably bad grammar and poor formatting idk this isn't properly edited and it's my first time posting i'll figure it out later (title taken from the song lucky by raveena) feedback is appreciated!

★ word count: 2.1k

you met Nicholas the way most people these days meet their significant others: online, kind of.

not a dating app, no, that would have been impossible. the way girls (and guys alike) would have flooded his likes, there's no way you would have stood a chance at getting noticed. 

still, online; your first impression of him was through his instagram page that you came across on a night of looking through your friends following lists to update yourself on who and who had broken up. you were prone to snooping, what can you say?

on his instagram (username wenoyixiang) there was a single selfie, posted with no caption, and a considerable amount of likes and heart eye emojis in the comments. he was gorgeous and obviously cool and nonchalant. the collection of your friend’s usernames announcing that they followed him made it tempting to turn the blue button grey but you strategically withheld.

some might call it internet stalking but after meeting him, you’d call it gravity. both of you, orbiting each other in mutual and close friend circles; people you may know notifications. it was only a matter of time until you met in real life. actually, it was all manifestation on your part (which here means obsessively staring at his one selfie for prolonged periods of time while imagining an elaborately curated life together, and showing up to every mutual friend hang out you possibly could of course).

and then, finally, the night you actually met at a party. sure, years of procrastination culminating into a firm belief that you only worked best under pressure might have had some influence on you. the pressure here was Nicholas’ smile and his laugh that commanded you to be the funniest, wittiest, and brightest person in the room; if only to direct his attention towards you. whatever it was, you had the opposite of performance anxiety, turning into someone much more outgoing than you typically were, that night. 

somehow it worked and he asked for your number in the kitchen once the party was winding down.

the rest is history (well documented in your diary and notes app).

-

“hi baby,” Nicholas whispers in your ear as he comes up behind you and breaks you away from your reminiscing with a start. your jolt makes him giggle and you smile at the sound, turning your face to be met with a kiss on your lips. 

“daydreaming about me?” he raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“yes, actually.” you admit easily, turning to face him fully so you can appreciate how his expression turns bashful and steal the solo cup from his hand to take a drink of whatever he just filled it with. whatever it is, it’s strong and you grimace as you hand it back.

“a dirty daydream, very hot.” you cough on the tail end of the sentence and Nicholas laughs, loud and unrestrained and you know the warmth in your stomach isn’t just the alcohol. 

“easy tiger.” he teases, taking his own gulp of the drink with only relative ease before he lowers his head to whisper in your ear once more, “or we can make that daydream real.” 

the heat in your stomach becomes something heavier, making its way down and you fight the urge to let your eyes roll back at just the sensation of his warm breath on your neck. 

your actual thoughts hadn't even been naughty and yet somehow, your boyfriend was able to get you from 0 to 100 in .02 seconds. it really wasn’t fair. 

you didn’t want to be that annoying couple that stopped hanging out with their friends and ditched parties just to be alone together. but Nicholas made it really hard not to be.

oh well! (you weren't that torn up about it when it came down to it)

your hand finds the crook of his elbow and before you even have a fully formed plan, you’re pulling him down the hallway. thankfully, the party is crowded enough that your absence won't be noticed right away. 

“whoa, you’re in a hurry.” Nicholas laughs and the sound of the music fades more the further from the living room you get. 

“your fault.” you call back, only glancing over your shoulder when you reach the bathroom door, thanking whatever miracle left it unoccupied as if for this very moment. 

he laughs again as you pull him in with the same urgency you’d use to enter a bomb shelter. 

the lock of the door clicks into place and then your lips are on his and the party and whatever was left in his cup become only an afterthought as he drops it into the sink in favor of gripping your hips and hiking you onto the counter. your thighs spread like second nature to accommodate him between them; it’s wordless and easy.

from the beginning every interaction has felt like this - Nicholas moves and so do you. push and pull so natural like your orbit never stopped, you just came in closer. (he’s your planet and you’re his moon or vice versa.)

your tongue glides over his bottom lip and his mouth opens against yours in silent invitation,  moans rumbling in both of your throats the second the slick muscle of his tongue meets yours. every kiss is so hot, it feels like melting into each other; the line where you start and he begins becoming molten until you have to pull away for a deep breath and for your own sanity.

“fuck…” he mumbles between pants and you can hear his movements but your eyes stay closed for another second to let you reconfigure your thoughts. when you finally blink your eyes open, his are looking downward to where his hands are working, opening his belt. 

it takes a second for you to realize you should be moving too but after a kiss like that, it’s hard for the synapses in your brain to function properly. 

“what happened to being in a hurry?” Nicholas asks, noticing your stillness, his belt and the buttons of his jeans undone. his hands find your thighs and give a squeeze.

“sorry, i got dizzy” you finally answer, meeting his eyes and seeing the concern that washes over his face. 

“you okay?” he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, your face instantly leaning into his palm and a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. 

“i’m good. you’re just so hot, it makes me dizzy.” you giggle and it’s a little mean to play against the soft spot Nicholas has for you; the way he'd turn the world upside down to make sure you’re okay, but you like to keep him on his toes. 

the concern on his face turns to obvious relief and then he’s laughing too, nose scrunched when he leans in to bury his face in your neck.

“scared me.” he whines, muffled and warm against your skin, and the sensation reanimates your desire. you tilt your head back and let your hands find the hem of your skirt, thankful for the ease with which you hike it up onto your hips. you slide your panties to the side for good measure and you’d be embarrassed by how wet you are in any other situation but right now you’re just glad your brain can keep up with your body's urges.

“sorry baby,” you sigh and the way he turns his head toward you lets you know he caught the shift in your tone. “let me make it up to you.” 

Nicholas straightens and looks down to where you sit on the counter, bare and offered to him on a silver platter. if it were up to him he would sink to his knees and bury his mouth between your thighs until you had to physically pry him off. 

the sounds of the world outside the door remind him that it is, in fact, not up to him.

still, a quickie isn’t a bad consolation prize.

“you’ll need to make it up to me again, later, by the way.” he sighs for dramatic effect, already shoving his jeans and underwear down just enough to grip his length in hand, giving it a squeeze while his other hand holds your hip.

“i can do that.” you mean it but your voice waivers a bit, mouth gone dry and the promise of being filled by him topping the hierarchy of any other need you could possibly have. your hips wiggle forward a bit and Nicholas would tease you for your desperation if his own didn’t have his cock leaking onto his fist. 

“Nico, please..” 

he has to move quickly so he doesn't come at the sound of you begging for him, sliding his tip through your slick folds just for a beat before pressing to your entrance and stretching you out when he pushes in. 

“okay, baby… remember, breathe.” his voice is tight with restraint you know is for your benefit.

you’re wet enough that the slide is easy but sex with Nicholas usually takes place at his apartment and comes with at least three fingers worth of preparation before he’s inside you. this stretch is broaching on new territory. 

lucky for you, your horniness knows no bounds. 

you take a deep breath, half for show, and brace your hands on his shoulders.

“Nico, move. i’m good, i’ll be good.” you don’t sound half as good you claim to be, already breathless despite him just staying still inside you but it’s only because you need him to fuck you so bad you think you’ll pass out if he waits another second.

and because he’s your Nico, and he knows you, he gives you what you want.

his first few thrusts are still tentative, eyes trained so firmly on your face to watch for any lapse in your expression. but soon enough he’s building a quick rhythm, each movement pushing soft grunts from his throat as his hips pull back and push forward to meet yours.

“oh fuck- mmmh- you feel so good” he murmurs, breathy voice an impossible octave lower than his usual timbre and the praise feels like electricity going straight down your spine. any discomfort you felt at first has melted away, in its place a sweet pressure you recognize as the beginnings of an orgasm. 

“mm yeah- like that..” your voice hitches with every movement, the moans you can’t hold back slipping out and cut short by your inhales every time he bottoms out and hits that spot that makes your insides turn to jelly. your hands drop down from his shoulders to his waist, sneaking under his shirt just to feel his warm skin under your palms, as if you could will him closer with the contact. 

Nicholas circles one arm around your back like he's read your mind, hugging your body to his while hooking his other hand under the bottom of your thigh and hiking it up against your side so he can drive his cock in deeper. his face nuzzles against your cheek, lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach while he fucks you stupid.

“oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, on the cusp of climax.

it may be your lack of experience in general or maybe your boyfriend has a hold on you so deep psychologically, that he’s found a way to pavlov you into orgasm with a magic word. you don’t know and, honestly, you don’t care. all you know is when Nicholas moans out an i love you against your skin, your whole body goes rigid and you come with a gasp.

the pleasure makes you see stars and galaxies, clutching onto Nicholas your only grounding tether.

your back arches until your head presses against the mirror behind your head, body writhing against Nicholas while he fucks you through your orgasm. it only takes a couple more thrusts into your pulsing walls until his pace goes sloppy and he finds his own release inside you.

the mess between your legs will be something you deal with later. 

for now, you cup his jaw and guide his lips to yours, the kiss slow and lazy in comparison to the urgency you shared when you first entered the bathroom. it feels like hours, time slows like honey now that you’re both sated. finally, you pull back to get a good look at his flushed face. he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen him, lips kiss bitten and eyes dark.

“i-”

you want to say i love you back but you no longer have the time for that. a voice cuts through from behind the door and abruptly clears the fucked out haze between you two.

“you guys are fucking gross by the way!” you recognize Yudai even if his voice is muffled. Nicholas hides his face against your shoulder and groans. he’s never gonna live this one down. 

you can’t help the loud laugh that you let out, his hand coming up to cover your mouth a second too late.

you’ll make it up to him again (again) later.

[phoenixlevine]

so here's my take on @onyxonline's original Space Rider AU

Forgive me for my terrible grammar—I failed English.

This took three days since I play guitar, so please excuse me if the rest of her team isn't here yet. That’s also why I got too lazy to draw her wings every time.

Vaelion "Vael" Ignis (VAYL or VALE—yeah, I did the spelling on purpose) is a critter all the way from Arcadia, her home planet. [Sketches of it will come out soon!] Her entire personality revolves around unhinged urges of arson—not that she'd actually do it—sarcasm, chaotic playfulness, and coffee.

She's a dragon, and her skills rely on speed and agility. She often tosses enemies into the air, kicking them to the ground mid-fall, and mixes close-combat techniques with weapon strikes enhanced by bursts of flames. Besides her main traits, Vael also has two sides: the unhinged, calm one and the serious, no-nonsense one. She's an excellent strategist when her chaotic tendencies are set aside—her plans, as odd as they may be, always somehow work, much to the team's frustration. Despite everything, she’s kind at heart.

Arcadia, her home, is a moderately populated planet in the Leo constellation, known for its natural hot springs and breathtaking sights. It attracts tourists from all over the galaxy... including some unwanted guests. Fortunately, the Space Riders deal with them in "stealth"—or, as Vael puts it, "stealth" often involves half a field being lit on fire.

Hobbies: Making music (like playing guitar or something), flying—those wings aren’t just for show!

Powers: Pyrokinesis (obviously). To add a bit more spice, she has an extra skill called Hearts of Cinders, which allows her to absorb any fire- or physical-based attack and return it three times more powerful. However, this comes at the cost of a significant amount of her energy, often leading to mid-fight collapses. She can also use Hearts of Cinders on fellow critters to shield them! As stated in the first line of this post, the Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline, not me, and I'm in-love with the series btw, keep it up🫶🫶

[keep-it-pottah]

In The Shadows of Love’s Sin’s - F.W. G.W. I

A/N: I originally posted this on Wattpad but figured maybe I should post it on here as well so more people can read it. This is a series and is based on the movies cause I like the movies better and I'm starting this series with the third movie cause I hate the first two and have no ideas on how to really write anything involving the twins with the first two movies. Oh yeah, the spelling and grammar probably aren't good cause my native language is Korean and I'm still not completely fluent in English yet.

Also I lowkey hate this so far but at the same time I don’t so idk.

!! FEM ALIGNED/FEM READERS DNI !!

"So, what's it like in Egypt?" You ask once you were sat between Fred and George, a copy of the Daily Prophet in your hands showing the photo of the Weasley family while they were on their trip to Egypt. "I'm guessing it was hot?" You asked as you looked between the two boys sat on either side of you.

Fred, who was sat on your left, lightly shrugged before he scooted himself a bit closer to you in order to point to the pyramids in the background. "It was a bit hot, but the sights there made it so worth it." He said as he looked back up at you, a small smile resting on his lips once his gaze had landed on your own.

"Yeah, all the old and creepy stuff was so cool." George, who sat on your right, spoke up. He scooted himself closer to you the same way Fred had just done. "Knowing your fascination with all things creepy and old, you'd love it there, Y/N." George teased you while he lightly poked your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at your friend's remark. "Oh, haha." You replied in a sarcastic tone while you gave George's arm a playful shove. "You could do without making fun of my interests for once, you know." You stated with a raise of your eyebrows.

Fred moved now so he had each leg on either side of the chair he sat on. "Ah, but it is not making fun of you that we are doing, dear Y/N." He states with a grin as he places an arm on your shoulder while he looked up at you with his charming and seemingly "innocent" eyes.

George is swift with his finishing of his brother's sentence. "Simply stating facts." He replied as he copied his brother's action and placed his own arm on your other shoulder. "We are not making fun of your interests."

"No matter how weird they are!" Fred continued while he lifted a finger up to make his statement more true.

"We are merely... pointing out that you would enjoy all the creepy and old stuff in Egypt." George stated with a grin as he had moved to rest his chin on top of his arm on your shoulder.

"Especially the tombs with the mummies in them!" Fred finished while he imitated his brother. The two boys were then resting their chins on their arms, both of which were still resting on your shoulders.

You huffed while you shrugged their arms off your shoulders. "Call it what you want. I see it as you making fun of the fact that I enjoy history and all things that prove that life isn't all happy-go-lucky." You responded as you moved to stand up from the chair you had sat in. "On another note, you two both need to learn about personal space." You stated while you pointed between the two boys. "You both seriously lack the ability to understand personal space."

Fred and George both made a faux offended look to each other before they moved to stand next to you once more.

"Of course we understand personal space." Fred starts as he moved to stand on your left.

"It just so happens that we enjoy your personal space more than we enjoy our own." George finished while he stood on your left. However, before you were able to speak up, the twins looked over and saw that their little brother, Ron, was showing both of his best friends, Harry and Hermione, the same clip that Fred and George had just shown you. Both of the twins attentions were then turned towards their brother as they both walked over to him.

"You're not flashing that clipping about again, are you, Ron?" The first twin had teased his little brother while he snatched the clip away from the younger boy.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows with a small pout-like frown rested on his lips. "I haven't told anyone." He huffed, after he pulled his pet rat closer to his chest.

"No, not a soul." The second twin responded as both of the twins walked around the table the three younger wizards sat at.

"Not unless you count Tom..." The first twin stated.

"The night maid..." The second twin continued.

"The day maid..."

"The cook..."

"The bloke that came to fix the toilet..."

"And the wizard from Belgium." The second twin finished with a teasing grin as he folded the clipping and placed it back on the table once the two were on the opposite side of the table from their little brother.

"Harry!" The twins and Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, called out once she had spotted Ron's friend, causing the younger wizard to turn his attention to the woman.

Ron scoffed before he looked over to where you stood once you had moved to get closer to the scene. "Hey! You showed it to him!" He argued, pointing to you. Fred and George grin as they moved to stand next to you once more.

"Ah, but you see here, Ronald," Fred starts as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, which caused you to roll your eyes.

"Y/N, here, happens to be our best and closest friend," George continued as he once again copied his brother by wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"And he is also the only person we showed," Fred continued as well.

"Because we do not feel the need to gloat about our trip, so we only showed the one person we actually enjoy talking to,"

"And the only person who we know actually enjoys hearing about our trip rather than random people who don't care about our life."

"So, you see, your argument about how we showed him," George motioned towards you, "is invalid."

Ron huffed and looked back down at the table as you, Fred, and George moved to sit down once more. Fred and George, of course, were sat on either side of you once more. You were always in the middle of them, no matter where they stood or sat, if you were with them you were in the middle.

"Maybe you should take a page out of their book, Ronald." Hermione stated in that same know-it-all tone she had anytime she said anything. That only caused Ron to roll his eyes and caused you to give her a sort of side-eye, judging glance. You and Hermione did not get along. At all.

Just then, Harry came back with a sort of lost look on his face as Fred and George's father, Arthur Weasley, was stood behind him, watching him walk back with a dark look in his eye. You and the twins all noticed it, yet no one spoke of it as you three were getting lost in your own conversation with each other.

~~~~~

Students shouting goodbyes to their parents, parents shouting tearful goodbyes to their children, the train whistle blowing, and the train engine roaring up signifies the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts. You and the twins stand at a window, your heads sticking out as the three of you wave goodbye to Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Of course, Molly is too busy running after the train to notice you and the twins. She carried Scabbers, Ron's rat, in her hands as she ran. Scabbers squeaked in her hands as she called out. "Ron! Ron! Ro-" She cuts herself off as she finally reaches Ron, who was three windows down from you, and hands him his rat. "Oh, for goodness sake!" She exclaims as she hands him Scabbers, a slight look of guilt and embarrassment on Ron's face at the realization that he left his rat behind. Once Ron has hold of his rat, Molly points a finger at him as she speaks once more. "Don't lose him!"

Ron lifts a hand up and waves with a nod, the same embarrassed expression on his face as he does so. You, Fred, and George all laugh at that before moving back inside the train and heading off to find a compartment that was either empty or had a few of your friends in it so you could join them.

"So, Freddy, George" You start as the three of you walk along the train, "Any classes you're excited for this year? Or are you just going to try and guilt trip me into doing all of your homework again?"

Fred and George exchange a grin before looking over at you once more with the same grin. "You know us too well." Fred starts, giving you a nudge.

"Although it's going to be exciting to mess with whoever the newest professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts is." George continues before the three of you stop in front of an empty compartment.

"Ten galleons says they quit on the first day." Fred says as you open the compartment door and step inside, the twins following after you.

You shake your head in response. "After you made Professor O'Neil quit our second year, I'm not taking that chance again." You say as you put your stuff above the seats, then help the twins put their stuff up. "Besides, after O'Neil quit, we had to get Quirrel to take her spot instead and we all know how that ended up. So are you sure you want to make this one quit as well so another one of you-know-who's followers can take it?"

George rolls his eyes as you put his trunk on the shelves above the three of you. "It was just a joke, Y/N. You're too uptight sometimes."

Fred hums and nods in agreement as he helps you put his trunk up next. "He's right, you know."

You just scoff before shutting the compartment door and sitting down on the opposite side of the twins. "More like I'm just trying not to get you two expelled or anyone killed."

George crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, it wasn't our fault that Quirrel tried to kill Harry and bring back you-know-who. How were we supposed to know?"

You just sigh and shake your head. "Just- don't try and make anyone quit this year. It didn't end well last time."

Fred and George both groan in annoyance. "Fine." They say in unison. Just then, the door to the compartment opens and two of your friends, Angelina and Lee, enter. They both sit next to you after putting their things up, with Lee on your left while Angelina was on your right.

~~~~~

A few hours later, after you had fallen asleep, the compartment was now silent, as was most of the train. The only sounds filling the small area was the quiet pattering of rain drops against the window, the train running on the tracks, thunder rumbling in the distance, Fred and George occasionally speaking quietly, and distant sounds of people speaking on occasion.

Lee was asleep as well, leaning against the window to the outside, Angelina was reading a book while you had your head on her shoulder, fast asleep, while Fred and George were eating whatever sweets they had got from the trolly and arguing on which ones were better.

Eventually, the sound of the train wheels squeaking and the train shaking as it comes to a halt causes everyone to stop what they're doing and look around in confusion. You and Lee end up waking up at the sound of the train wheels, and you blink a few times before sitting up straight, looking around in confusing like the others.

"What's going on?" You ask, rubbing your eyes a bit as you look out the window for a moment to try and figure out what was happening. "There's no way we're there already."

Fred shakes his head. "No, we're not. We're just stopped out of nowhere." He says in response as he looks out the window as well.

"Did we break down then?" You ask as you move over to the door to the compartment. You then open the door and peak your head out, looking down the little hallway to see if there was an answer out there somewhere, only to end up seeing other students doing the same. However then, the train jerks, causing you to fall backwards, landing in George's lap with a little 'oof'. George groans, as you had landed right on his groin and it was pretty painful. "Ah, hell... Sorry, Georgie."

George just groans in pain once more, his hands grabbing your waist to try and push you off of him. You quickly stand and move off of him, sitting beside him now. Just then, the power in your compartment, and the rest of the train, goes out. You furrow your eyebrows and look around in confusion.

"What is happening?" Lee asks, now having finally woken up. He lifts his head and looks out the window, narrowing his eyes to try and see through the fog and the rain. "There's something moving out there." He mumbles before letting out a shiver.

After he finishes speaking, frost begins to slowly coat the window. Everyone shudders at the sudden drop in temperature, breaths now visible in the chill air. You notice how George wraps his arms around himself, so you mindlessly wrap one of your arms around him to try and warm him up. Unbeknownst to you, Fred frowns and glares at you and George a bit in slight envy, while George smiles to himself. The lights flicker on for a few moments before flickering off once more mere seconds later.

The train jerks once more, causing Lee to his head on the window and to groan in pain. "Ow!" He exclaims and hisses softly as he rubs his head. "Dammit."

Fred then turns away from you and George and looks out the window instead, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. "I think... I think I see someone coming on board?"

The frost on the window then begins to slowly turn to ice as the temperature drops even lower, below freezing this time. All of the drinks you all had begins to freeze as well, and everyone's breathing becomes even more visible. The train jerks more roughly this time, causing everyone to fall back in their seats and to look around in a panic. "What the bloody hell is going on?" Angelina asks as you all look around. "It's so cold."

Just then, the faint silhouette of a cloaked figure begins to appear in front of the door of the compartment, the sound of wind whistling and an eerie hum filling the air. A long, skinny, and seemingly bony hand reaches out, the slender fingers curling and causing the door to slowly slide open. A soft, muffled, whooshing sound fills the air as the cloaked figure appears in the doorway.

The more the door opens, the colder the compartment gets. All of the cheerful, happy feelings in the air drop and is replaced with numbness and pain. It was as if all the happiness and glee had been drained from the world. However for you it's different. Instead of numbness you feel, it's shame, disappointment, and anxiety.

Once the cloaked figure is standing in the open doorway, you can immediately recognize it. "Dementor..." You whisper, causing the dementor to turn its attention to you. The more it focuses on you, the more the shame you feel grows.

The dementor gets closer to you, its hood pulling back a small bit. A distorted whooshing sound fills the air as its hand reaches out and caresses your chin. Its fingers are cold, ice cold, and it burns. You can feel the burns being left behind on your skin as the dementor begins to inhale, feeding off of all the feelings of shame and disappointment coursing through you at the moment. It hurt, it was so painful. The worst agony you had ever felt before.

After you had let out a groan in discomfort, Fred suddenly stands and shoves the dementor out of the compartment and slams the door shut. He yells out in pain, the pain from the cold burn on his hands almost unbearable. However before you can say anything, the world around you begins to fade and all sounds grew quiet. The last thing you hear is the sound of Fred and George calling out your name until it all goes dark.

[azureumm]

Moonlit Sentiments and Secrecy (Zaros x Earis)

This points to Earis being female, but if someone wishes, I can change a few things around and post a male reader version, it's really just a few words here and there that hint to Earis being gal ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

tags and cw: drinking, two adults under the influence (mildly), Earis and Zaros backstory snippet, fluff in you squint, tension, idk it's just kind of sweet and open ended for the most part.

Once again, not proofread and english isn't my native language!!! Sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out (just be kind :3)! ENJOYYY!!!

Songs for the vibes if anyone's interested:

Symbol by Adrianne Lenker.

Les filles désir by Vendredi sur Mer.

˚₊· ➳❥

Some nobles drank wine for the taste, and for better conversation. But the younger ladies and noblemen that attended the grand banquets and glamorous dinner parties or balls, they drank for the sake of getting drunk.

Truthfully, they weren't much different from drunk scoundrels or young people down in one of the inns or bars in the city, the only difference between the common folk and them was a need for an aesthetically pleasing drink and setting.

You remember the time back in the academy when you and Zaros snuck into the kitchen at night. Zaros had seen the head chef hiding a bottle of rum somewhere deep into the pantry, and on an impulsive whim, had convinced you, that you two needed to try it. With hushed voices and whispers of laughter, you two found the bottle after only a minute of searching.

"Told you this would be easy." Zaros had whispered, holding the bottle up in my hand as you both stood in the narrow room that served as a storage for all the interesting herbs, spices, flour and all kinds of items you couldn't even put a name to.

You haven't drank rum since that night, convinced that if you did, it would instantly send the contents of your stomach right up, maybe from the memory of how sick you felt from it afterwards. Or maybe from the now bittersweet memory of you and Zaros sitting in your dorm room, warm and cozy light being cast from the candles you had lit, sharing the bottle of the disgustingly spirited drink.

"Gods, this tastes like death," You wince as you sip the clear liquid and it runs down your throat, leaving a burning and threateningly sickly feeling at the back of your tongue, "Are you sure it's meant for drinking?"

"Of course, I've seen the old guy sneaking sips of it behind the kitchen. You can see that quite well from the academy gardens." He smirks and takes a sip too, wincing similarly to you.

That night was the first night you ever drank. You didn't know what people usually did when they were drunk, you had only seen them talking and laughing more than usual at the palace parties your mother held every so often. But when it was just you and Zaros sitting on the soft cushions in your bed, the room dim and safe, you weren't sure what you were supposed to do with the warm feeling in your cheeks or the urge to giggle at every dumb joke he made.

It was very late by then, and the rum had taken its full effect on both of you. You both were a laughing mess, laid back on top of the cover of your bed, looking up at the soft, light green canopy hung above your bed. You looked at him, studying his profile and then turned on your side. He glanced at you and mirrored your movements, his blond hair, that was slightly shorter back then, falling over his face.

Under the influence of the rum, you reached out without hesitation flipping it away from his face. "You should get a haircut." You said jokingly and he laughed.

"Hopefully not done by you."

"I'd do a great job." You lied, mind fuzzy and unfiltered.

"You mean a great job at leaving me hairless." He remarked, his quick wit still the same, even under the influence.

You sat up slightly, suddenly placing both your hands on his cheeks. His skin was hot and at your sudden action, he looked surprised.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly and you suddenly pinched his cheeks slightly.

"Your face looks weird." You giggle at his slightly mortified expression before it turns into a smile. "You're being weird."

You shake your head, disagreeing, "I'm being drunk."

Nothing you said made much sense in that moment. He took your hands that were still on his face and held them up away from him. You tried to push them back towards him, laughing at how light you felt, your usual strength not really coming through in the moment.

"Stop-" He protested in a hushed voice, between grunts from trying to fight you off and laughs that he couldn't hold back, the situation at hand bizarre to witness.

Suddenly he sat up too, his hands still wrapped around your wrists and he softly, but not lacking force, pushed you back down onto the pillow behind you. You couldn't stop laughing, because even he didn't seem to be holding his liquor very well.

He let go of your wrists falling back closer to you now and he turned to his side, throwing his arm around your stomach, his body staying close to yours.

"What are you doing?" You chuckled, turning your head as much as you could to look back at him.

His eyes were closed and his forehead was almost pressed against your back. "Keeping you in place, so you stop being weird." He was apparently too drunk to move up on the bed as he stayed in the same position he had fallen into, his legs slightly over the edge of your bed, clinging onto you.

"And this isn't weird?"

He hummed a small "mhm-m" and you felt him relax against you. The chatter and laughter died down. You turned your head back to look at your nightstand in front of you, feeling his breathing rise and fall. Your body felt like it was spinning each time you closed your eyes but somehow Zaros's presence grounded you enough to let you slowly drift off to sleep.

You two never spoke about it afterwards. You weren't sure if it was because you both weren't didn't know how much of the night the other recalled, or because it seemed too... intimate to mention. But you remembered how warm and comforting it felt, and no matter how much you wished to forget it, the moment played on your mind even years later when you'd have one too many wine glasses in a row, with no one but you yourself as company.

Even tonight, as the rest of the young ladies and lords celebrate their families being important enough to be invited to a royal ball, and while their parents spin wheels of gossip about each and every one of the attendees, you find yourself thinking back on the moment.

A glass of wine in your hand, your gaze unfocused and slightly bored, you stand politely by a table of small finger-sized appetizers and beautifully garnished foods on equally beautiful trays.

Someone enters your view, standing out from the rest. Not because they're dressed more outstandingly, but because they are looking right at you. Zaros. You snap out of your dreamy state and his frame comes into full focus as he approaches you. It reminds you of the night you first saw him before the trials started. Before his mother brought him forward as a contender for the throne.

"Not enjoying the party?" He asks when he is close enough to you, his hair smoothly styled and his clothes perfectly tailored down to the last bead of his coat, the beautifully embroidered patterns looking as classy as ever. His words give you a sense of deja vu, a small callback to that same night your right to the throne was put at risk.

You look at him and then take a sip of your wine. "Is that your all time favorite conversation starter?" You give him a small smug smile, the wine loosening the muscles in your face that usually seem to be so tense.

He chuckles, his eyes staying on yours. "It works doesn't it? It's a good general opener when approaching someone sulking in a corner of an extravaganza."

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly but your expression stays moderately playful. More than usual. "I'm not sulking." You look behind him at the people chatting and laughing, the middle of the ballroom reserved for pairs who spin to the live music. "I'm just staying back for today. Saving my strength for the grand announcement of my victory tomorrow."

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "So overly confident you'll win...That will only make it more fun for me when they call my name as the next ruler." He takes a few steps and stands right next to you, watching the people in the ballroom alongside you.

"Maybe in your dreams, Zaros." You glance at him, seeing his profile and his careful gaze taking in the rest of the world. He's thinking something, you can tell. "What is it?"

He returns his gaze to you, his face relaxed. Zaros takes a moment to think, and you feel slightly unsettled at how intensely he's looking at your face. "My Earis, it is the last night before the results. I think we should celebrate separately."

"Celebrate?" Your eyebrows raise at his words, "Celebrate what exactly?"

"The end of the trials. No matter who's fated to win tomorrow, it's over isn't it? That in of itself is worth celebrating, don't you think?" His voice is calm and you don't sense any irony or hidden undertones in it.

"And what do you suggest?" You ask, curiosity getting the best of you. Gods, you hate when he keeps you guessing. But somewhere deep inside, throughout all of this, you feel a strange sense of comfort. Zaros's presence back in your life has brought back something you wished to keep hidden. Or at least hidden from everyone but him, as much as you hated to admit it.

He smirks, a small intrigued and cheeky hum escaping him. He nods to his right at the ballroom door and turns away from you, taking slow, long strides towards the exit, seeping with a quiet confidence.

You open your mouth to protest but he's already halfway out the door. You sigh and as quickly and elegantly as possible down the rest of your wine, putting the empty glass on the table beside you, walking after him.

When you're out the door, Zaros is already continuing down the hallway to your left. You speed up, catching up to him, walking beside him now. "So you just won't tell me what you've planned then?"

He looks forward, making his way towards his own chambers. "Patience, my Earis. You'll know soon enough."

You narrow your eyes, the feeling of suspense only growing in your stomach. When you arrive by his door, he opens it, letting you enter first. "M'lady." He jokes and you hold back an eye roll, walking into his room. He follows and closes the door, walking past you and towards a cupboard by his bed.

"Not suspicious at all, Zaros." You remark and lean against the door, crossing your arms on your chest, waiting for whatever he's up to.

He rummages through the cupboard and you hear the sound of something clinking against the wood before he stands up and walks back towards you, a clear bottle of liquid in his hand. He holds it up, shaking it a little and your eyes widen.

"By the gods, no way." You say and he approaches you closer.

"Come on, Earis. For the sake of sentiment. And celebration." His smile is as charming as ever, his tone convincing and confident.

You look at the bottle in his hand again, sighing as you drop your hands to your sides, approaching him. "Where did you even get this?"

Zaros walks back, sitting down into a cushioned window nook, nodding to the space next to him. Slowly, you comply, unsure about the idea.

"I got when we stopped at Niverud. When browsing the street markets, I noticed a lady selling some rum and wine... the bottle reminded me of that day at the academy. I thought I'd keep it around as... some kind of reminder." He opened the sealed bottle top and the faint smell of spirit filled the air.

"A reminder?" You questioned quietly and he nodded. "Yes. But since we're both here now, and we're celebrating, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to open it."

You look at the bottle he's extended to you and you let out a breathy laugh. "You first then." He shakes his head and smiles. "No, my Earis, you took the first sip back then. We shall stay true to our roots."

You sigh and take the bottle from his hands, your fingers briefly touching his, his hands cold in comparison to you. You smell the clear liquid first, pulling back slightly when you do. You start to think about the consequences you will must certainly have to face tomorrow morning if you mix wine and this awful creation but when you glance back at Zaros, you feel a strange sense of ease.

"Ah, to hell with it." You murmur and take a sip from the bottle. The rum is warm and it burns your throat just like it did back then. You swallow as quickly as you can and lean forward, holding your hand to your mouth, taking a moment to collect yourself and keep yourself from gagging at the sensation.

"Gods. It's somehow worse." You exclaim, your voice strained, but Zaros just chuckles, taking the bottle from you. You sit up right and watch him take a sip too. He winces. But his reaction isn't half as dramatic or bad as yours.

"It seems like someone has been practicing. In the ten years of us not talking, were you by any chance on your path to becoming a drunkard?" You lean back against the wall behind you, getting more comfortable in the window nook.

"You think your absence affected me that much?" He asks, handing you back the bottle. You feel a twist in your stomach, both from the thought of drinking the disgusting liquid again and at his words.

You take a sip, this time it goes down more smoothly, but you still show clear displeasure at the taste. "I didn't say that."

"You thought it, I bet." He dismisses your words and you continue to pass the bottle back and forth.

"I didn't mean it like that." You begin to say, the warmth of the rum you're drinking beginning to numb your senses and quiet your thoughts. "I just... Well it's whatever, you'll twist my words no matter what I say."

"Me? Twist your words?" He asks, his voice slightly higher in pitch, "My Earis, I have never twisted your words." He leans against the opposite wall, getting more comfortable as well.

The room is quiet and dark, the only light streaming into it being from the moon, right onto the two of you, as you sit by the window. After a while of back and forth bickering and drinking, you take the last sip, the bottle halfway gone and you shake your head as you hand it back to him. "Yeah, that's enough of that. Still tastes like death."

He laughs in return and takes one more sip in solidarity. He puts the bottle down somewhere on the floor and smiles, his cheeks softly flushed from the spirit. You smile at him, not feeling fully in control over your own face. "Has this satisfied your need for sentimentality?"

"Oh, yes. Greatly." He smiles back and leans forward, away from the wall. He stands up, turning to you. Then, he extends his hand to you. "A final dance, perhaps? Before I kick you out of the castle tomorrow."

You scoff and look at his hand, a smile still playing on your face, "What happened to sticking to our 'roots', Sarl Zaros?"

"The rum was a revisiting of our roots." He takes your hand without you even reaching out for his, pulling you up. "This dance will be the celebration."

Zaros is clearly at least tipsy, you can tell. His words aren't as sharpened or thought-out. You let out a giggle, for the first time in a while. "You offer a celebration and then make said celebration dancing with no music?"

He places his hand on your hip, while the other hand holds your own up. "I can sing." He says very seriously.

"I'd rather not hear it." You smile, not being able to contain yourself. Everything seems slightly more humorous when you're drunk.

"Then I shall hum." And without further talking, Zaros begins to move you both, dancing as if you were back in the ballroom, except instead of the usual string and piano combination to accompany you, you have Zaros humming something that almost sounds like a lullaby.

You laugh while you both dance around in front of the window, moonlighting spilling over you. "Is that a lullaby?" You ask between your laughs.

"Mhm." He hums, "It was the first thing at the top of my head. I apologize if it doesn't suit your tastes, my Earis."

You two spin and circle around the small moonlit spot in his room, both of you seemingly more at ease than ever before during the trials. The thought of tomorrow's victory or loss forgotten in the bottle of rum and the hum of Zaros's voice, you let yourself reminisce about the night back at the academy.

You feel Zaros's grip on your waist slightly tighten and you rest your head on his shoulder, the liquor tearing down any barriers inside you, letting you act on impulse and first feelings.

"Will you actually throw me out of the castle if you win?" You whisper against his shoulder and he stops his movements, pulling back from you, so he can look at you.

"Is that what you're worried about?" His voice is low, almost a whisper. You feel the rum on his breath, the spirit mixing with his own scent of parchment from old books and something faintly herbal.

You search his face for any mockery but don't find what you're looking for. "No. Not really."

His green eyes rake over your face, as if memorizing every detail of it. "Well, I won't do that, for your information."

"Zaros, how much do you actually remember from that night back at the academy?" You whisper, your questions and pent up curiosity not being held back by anything. Every truth, every question is right at the tip of your tongue tonight, it seems.

He raises his brow at your question. "My memory is as good as ever, my Earis."

You scoff. "Yes, I know, but we were drunk back then, I know alcohol can mess with your recollection of things."

"I remember everything clearly." He responds without hesitation and it ignites something inside you, something you had buried ever since that night.

His hand moves from yours and comes up to cup your face, his breathing noticeably heavier than before.

You look at him, dazed, slightly confused at his action but also feeling a sense of anticipation. Your bodies grow closer to one another's and now you feel his breath on your own lips. "Is this the celebration part or us staying true to our roots?" You whisper.

He lets out a small breath of a laugh, closing his eyes to collect his thoughts momentarily. "Neither. Both." He breathes.

Your head is reeling with your own conflicting thoughts. He is so warm, the alcohol makes you so nice. But you wonder how it will be tomorrow, when you'll be seconds away from the result of your ongoing battle for the throne to be announced. You close your eyes too.

"What are you thinking about, Earis?" He asks and you meet his gaze.

"The past. Tomorrow. Everything." You respond, unsure of your own thoughts.

His hand that rests on your waist moves upwards and towards your back, holding you closer. "What about now? The present?"

Your breathing syncs with his as you both stand intertwined in the middle of his room. You let out a shaky breath and your own hands find their way to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs running over his cheeks.

"I wanted to kiss you that night." It's as if something inside him snaps and he lets out a weak laugh at his own unexpected confession, leaning into your touch as much as physically possible by now. "It's pointless to think about it now, I realize. You probably think me a fool, but I out of everything I haven't done in my life, that... I regret most."

Your breath hitches at his words and without thinking you respond. "I don't." You pause and then continue, "I don't think it's foolish. I think about it too."

"Earis." His voice is a mix of a desperate plea and a question. "Let me hold you tonight, just for tonight. Forget the past, forget tomorrow." He whispers, his green eyes filled with emotion you don't usually see. "Can I kiss you?"

Your head spins from his question and the rum, and before he can say anything else, you pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a messy, drunken kiss. His hand at your back clutches at the fabric of your gown, desperately trying to pull you closer even if it isn't technically possible anymore.

Your hands move to the sides of his neck, softly caressing the soft, warm skin, wanting to feel every part of it. A burning need to feel more of him overwhelms you and your hands move lower, at the collar of his beautiful red coat. He hums into the searing kiss and pulls you back with him and with a few steps you reach the edge of his bed. He breaks the kiss and sits down, scooting back and without needing an invitation, you crawl onto the soft cover of his bed, putting your thigh over his hips, settling down onto his lap.

"I wish I could've held you closer." He whispers as you lean above him, moonlight pooling around your frames on the bed, casting long shadows of you.

"Hold me as close as you can tonight." You whisper, leaning down towards him.

"Just for tonight?" He asks and your breathing stops for a moment before you kiss him again.

"Tonight." You whisper between the kiss and then his hand finds the back of your head. No more words are said between you two as he pulls you back, seemingly not wanting your lips to ever leave his. He clings onto you as you do to him, and just for tonight, you forget the past and forget the future, letting only the shadows and the pale light bear your unspoken promise of keeping this a secret. Just tonight, just now.

[tsundereho]

batfam sick fic (proofread)

818 words: my base idea posted as well, oooh fun right? tw i guess for talks of incorrect medicine use. I swear in this, so yeah be warned

@coal-or-something helped me (watched me write and go insane, occasionally helped with grammar)

Bruce powers through anything like a fucking truck Dick can power through it but chooses to be a baby about it (for the bit) Jason is much like bruce but is more noticeable, will refuse to be taken care of Tim doesn’t have a spleen he gets sick like unable to leave bed sick, refuses treatment best he can and tries to keep working Steph is stubborn and confident, can and will make her own damn soup but due to being sick it doesn't go very well Damian doesn't get sick very often but when he does he will refuse to admit it to the point of making it worse for himself Duke Thomas probably knows what to do best (other then alfred) Cass was homeless for 9 years, so used to being sick and just ignoring it. So very used to being sick and just forcing herself not to be due to her dad then her time on the streets

Different scenarios of them being sick, all, same level of sick to start, same symptoms

Bruce cannot slow down or take a break ever, and it was becoming more and more apparent as he refused to pause his typing for a coughing fit. Despite Alfreds warnings about it will only get worse. The only compromise he made was not attending a brunch and instead using that time for a nap, mainly because he didn’t have the energy to mask at all.

Dick at the first sign of his cold immediately canceled his plans, sure he was still gonna go be Nightwing but he needed the days to rest! He was sick, he needed soup and tea with extra honey to help his sore throat.

Jason refuses to let anybody near him while he's sick, he knows they’ll do something, whether it's trying to hurt him in his vulnerable state or worse, take care of him. He didn’t need extra blankets or hot drinks, he needed to stop being weak and just get through this, any guidelines on the cold meds? Ignored. He's chugging the bottle in one go. He needs to feel better. Very often nightwing can find him accidentally high and loopy since he took ten times over the recommended dose, the only reason he isn’t dead is because he is a tank of man.

Tim is doing everything he can to ward off the sickness at the first sneeze, wearing a face mask, washing everything he owns as often as he can, when he gets sick he gets sick. One of the many cons of not having a spleen. 

It does help but not by much, he still gets sick and is immediately bed ridden for his own safety, he can and will seriously hurt himself trying to work like this.

Damian since i can’t write steph very well yet

Damian is the one who got sick first, not that he would admit it to even himself, yes he is drinking more tea, but only because he likes the way Alfred makes it, nothing more nothing less, he scoffs at the idea of taking a break, he did not need a break since he was not sick, no matter what father or any of his siblings said, they were all wrong. No matter how much he overslept for school he would show up anyways.

Cass is very nervous about getting sick, it makes her weak. After nearly a decade on the street she knows how bad it is to be out of commission, being sick meant working harder just to eat as your body screamed at you just to lay down. Being sick at the Wayne Manor was very different, actual medicine, warm food, not needing to force her body to keep moving when all she wanted was to collapse. Bed rest for once isn't forced, she wants a nap and a rest.

Okay i see her as stubborn but more understanding of when she needs to give in. sure when she first started getting sick, much like the others just ignored and medicated. Once she started getting more sick? Actually takes it easy instead of brute forcing her way through it. Is she going to go on bedrest? Hell the fuck no but shes gonna make herself a nice little treat.

Duke Thomas, the only one to actually take the recommended amount of medicine and not just the entire thing, he's keeping track of what times he ate and how much, making sure to wash his hands more often and all that shit

i was gonna write more but uh, no :3

[sy3ra]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lovestruck!

𖤐 description: love-struck/lovestruck (adj.) experiencing intense feelings of romantic love for someone; besotted or infatuated.

𖤐 ft. lovestruck/lovesick! satoru × yuji's sister! reader (fem)

𖤐 content: lovestruck/lovesick! satoru, fluff, sickeningly disgusting fluff, the gojo satoru falling in love, wholesome, feeding my delulu rn, cringe and cliche sorry, reader is described as very beautiful, almost angelic (the things lovestruck! satoru can see lol), reader is yuji's big sister here (obviously an au)

𖤐 author's note: my writing style is so inconsistent i'm so sorry, everything's just based on my mood lol & my grammar sucks. anyways i'm terribly down bad for a lovestruck satoru so, i'm bringing y'all with me. (p. s. reader is well versed in arts and crafts and runs a small business in australia)

(author from the future: heyy, since y'all agreed that i should post this piece of crap rotting in my drafts, so here it is! so sorry for the late post, i've been busy with school.)

masterlist | requests

reblogs are appreciated!

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆★

"sensei, can we go to the airport?"

yuji suddenly asks, looking up at his teacher, who was seated beside him. "airport? why do we need to go there?" probed satoru. "my big sister's coming back from australia today. normally, she would only come back for vacation but...now that our grandpa has passed, i guess she just wanted to give me some support." yuji responded with a mellow smile at the thought of his big sis, he's missed her so much.

satoru pondered for a moment, before giving his student an accepting grin and a thumbs up. "i don't see why not! i mean if it's for my student of course i'll accept" he said, pearly whites showing as he stood up, which was soon followed by a gleeful yuji. "really? thank you, sensei!" yuji's smile widened, to which satoru returned with the same gleeful smile. seeing his students happy in this damned world was enough.

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆★

"so, what's your sister like?" satoru asked curiously, hands gripping the steering wheel as they drove to the airport. (unfortunately, he had to drive) yuji's eyes lit up at this, finding this the best opportunity to ramble about his big sister.

"she's the best sister anyone could ever possibly ask for, except her teasing, she still treats me like a kid even now.." yuji started, obviously passionate about his beloved big sister. "she's well versed in arts and crafts, and even she even opened up a small shop in australia!"  she's talented, satoru thought, feeling the gleefulness of his student from the driver's seat. "she sounds impressive," he nodded with a smile, a pause following soon after. "is she pretty?" satoru felt bold at the moment, not sure why. maybe he was just curious, yes that's it, right?

"very! she's basically the female version of me, sensei!" yuji replied, to which satoru chuckled imagining a vague image of yuji's sister in his mind. "can't wait to meet her then!" satoru nodded with a cheeky smile as they got nearer to the airport.

the weather was surprisingly pleasant, the sun shining down from the large patch of blue sky, covered slightly by white fluffy cumulus clouds creating a breezy atmosphere that isn't cold but not too hot. the traffic wasn't too much of a bother as well, they got to the airport as quickly as they left the jujutsu technical high school.

the only predicament was, the airport is jam packed with people. yuji frantically searched for his big sister, since her plane had landed thirty minutes ago. even with satoru's height, it's still quite hard to look around properly, he didn't quite know what yuji's big sister looked like in person, yuji just described her to be a feminine version of him.

that is until he sees his student's eyes light up, rushing towards someone, almost pushing everyone that was in the way, engulfing a shorter girl with the same pink hair as yuji in a bear hug.

"you've grown so much, yuji! you're taller than me now!" the pink haired woman said, stepping back to look at her little brother (that's not so little anymore). satoru couldn't see her very well, unfortunately. "i missed you lots, nee-san! i brought sensei with me, come meet him!" yuji takes his sister's hand and leads her to satoru, who was somewhere at the entrance of the airport, leaning against the wall.

to say he was infatuated by her was an understatement, hell, he was enamoured by the woman who stood before him. she was short, her hair shone a strawberry pink like her brother's, her eyes, oh her eyes were beautiful, they shone like a pair of gems, and her smile, they were so bright and warm, almost like the gentle rays of the sun. she stood out from the rest of the crowd.

"hi! you must be yuji's sensei. i'm (____) itadori, his big sister. nice to meet you..uhm, sorry what was your name again?" you greeted with a smile, small dimples showing on each side of your cheek as you held out your hand for him to shake.

your voice snapped him out of his euphoria, it sounded so angelic, he wanted to hear your voice everyday. satoru's mind felt absent as he looked down at you, you were really more beautiful than he had imagined you to be.

"sensei?" yuji queried with concern, making satoru shake his head, that same charming and handsome smirk appearing on his face (he was nervous). "sorry sorry, nice to meet you too, miss (____). i'm satoru gojo." he held his hand out as well, meeting yours, his hand was larger than your hand, almost swallowing it whole.

you smiled as you shook hands with him, feeling a small electric spark when your skin came in contact with one another, though you paid no mind to it.

"yuji has told me all about you, mr. gojo! thank you kindly for taking care of my brother. How could I possibly repay your kindness?" you said with a slight bow, making satoru feel slightly embarrassed  (for the first time ever). "no need, i was just doing my job as a teacher." replies satoru, clearing his throat. his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. hard. why was he so nervous in the presence of this woman who he just met? he was so used to flirting with other girls (despite being a virgin) but.. you. you made him nervous.

"oh I insist, mr. gojo!" you chuckled, lifting your head up, straightening your posture. yuji tugged at your sleeves, making you look at your little brother. "what is it, yuji?" you ask, tilting your head sideways. cute: satoru thought. "i'll go to the bathroom for a bit" yuji says quietly, earning a nod of acknowledgement from his sister. "sensei" yuji gives him a thumbs up before rushing to the nearby restrooms of the airport.

"well that was something" satoru laughs as he stands there, quite awkwardly now that he's left alone with you out of all people. you on the other hand, only laughed at his awkward response. "now, back to my statement: how can i repay you for taking care of my brother, mr. gojo?" you ask once again, you were stubborn like your brother, almost.

satoru comes up with an absurd idea in mind, he hesitates, this was going to be a bad idea. "your number," satoru responds, his throat becoming dry from the sheer nervousness he was feeling. "you can repay me by giving me your number, miss (____)." he continues, it was insane how he was able to keep his smirk up despite his palms beginning to sweat.

you were silent for a moment, your cheeks becoming rosy by each passing second. it wasn't always you encountered a man who was bold and smooth enough to ask for your number, and actually become successful at it. you chuckled as a response, your chuckle coming out as embarrassed instead of happily as originally intended. "really now?" you whisper, your index finger scratching your cheek lightly, before you came up with an idea.

you rummaged through your backpack, finding a thin black marker in one of its pockets. "that's a pretty bold move you got there, mr. gojo" you bite back a smile as you take his left hand and begins to write your number on his palm, you looked so adorable in his eyes, with your half-lidded gaze concentrated on writing the numbers on his skin, your visibly rosy cheeks, and your hair that was annoyingly in the way of letting him see your face in all its glory.

slowly, satoru lifts his free hand up to tuck a thick strand of your pink hair behind your ear, since it was in the way. a seemingly harmless action yet it made you divert your attention from his palm, to his face with slightly wide eyes, and suddenly, your gaze felt like a spotlight, it was as if you were looking at him like he was the only man in the world.

you clear your throat, stepping back to give him his space, and then put your black marker back in your bag, eyes studying the numbers that you wrote on his palm. "there"  you say simply, with a small smile. satoru stands there, seemingly in a state of euphoria for a moment before shaking his head, cerulean blue eyes looking down at the black ink drawn on his skin through his blindfold. a lopsided smirk appearing on his face. "now for some reason, i feel quite special to have a cute girl's number in my contact list. thank you, miss (____)." he responds, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin as he stuffs his left hand in his pocket, careful not to smudge the ink on his palm. after all this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

in return, you huff out a laugh. "(____)'s fine, mr. gojo." you chime in, your voice seemed so soft to him.

"i'm back!" yuji yells, catching the attention of the two adults as her runs back from the restrooms. "why don't we grab a meal? my treat" you say, smiling at the two boys, in which yuji returns with an excited nod. "i don't mind, but it will be my treat, i insist." satoru offered, "oh no need, mr. gojo. i insist." you reply,

"i insist, miss (____)"

"no, i insist, mr. gojo!"

"why don't we just divide the bill?" chimed yuji, making the two adults that stood in front of him think for a moment before coming to a conclusion.

"oh alright, that seems fair." you nod, looking up at satoru, the man nods as well. "then it's settled, let's go!" satoru grins excitedly, staring down at yuji and back to you.

"let's go! i'm starving!" yuji groans, taking the first step forward, and you smile at your younger brother, a sweet, nostalgic smile.

satoru swears to himself that he was going to win your heart, your soul, all of you. you were perfect from head to toe.

and he sure as hell isn't gonna let someone like you go.

— Mayven.

[dianadragonfly]

So, I was thinking about different fandoms and the fics that I love. What makes a good, satisfying fan fic? I realize it has 100% to do with the canon.

Take BBC Sherlock. I struggle so much with AUs where their beginnings are different. Sherlock is an astronaut, assigned to work with scientist John. (This is an example, not a dig at any specific fic). I can't. I can't. I realize BBC Sherlock is also an AU from Doyle, but BBC Sherlock and John are so fucking tied to "A Study In Pink" and John handing his phone to Sherlock that everything else seems false. Fun premise, but not the Sherlock and John I know.

A satisfying Johnlock fan fic needs to change the ending of the BBC canon. To think of these two men, who love each other so much, just continuing their parallel existences, never becoming anything more than crime-fighting buds, is just. . . it doesn't fit. It doesn't fit the show. It doesn't fit the characters Moffit and Gatiss created, even if they decided to not make it happen (as a special 'fuck you' to their fans). It's heartbreaking.

My favorite fics are fixits -- many of them deal with the aftermath of Euros and Mary, or some do "canon intercepts" and deal with Seasons 3 and 4 differently. Still, anything but John and Sherlock raising Rosie together as partners/lovers/husbands in 221B with Mrs. Hudson downstairs feels like a lie. (Some canon intercepts write out Rosie completely.)

If I had to write sequels to BBC canon, I'd pick "Drawn to Stars" by @totallysilvergirl or "Never Turn Your Back on the Sea” by @discordantwords . There's a thousand other ones, but those ring the most true to me.

"Heartstopper" fics don't have a lot of room to mess with the ending. Anything other than Charlie and Nick happily growing old together is so far out of canon and out of character that it doesn't even seem like it's worth exploring. There are a handful of ones that have one character or the other dying, but mostly, we understand right away that Charlie and Nick are endgame. We are 100% aligned with canon and creator on this.

Anything that isn't true to this ending rings as false as anything that isn't true to Sherlock's beginning. Fun to read, but not our characters.

With Nick and Charlie being so young in canon, their beginnings are so much malleable. Sherlock and John are tied to that lab. Nick and Charlie? not so much. They meet in grammar school. They meet in University. They meet after a hot hookup at a club in their 20s. They meet after broken marriages to Imogen and Ben. They meet during Nick's rugby career or as fellow teachers. They meet at gyms, at animal rescues, at psychiatric hospitals. They are single parents, University professors, rock star drummers, hot shot authors and academics. Their beginning isn't fixed. But the end always is.

I have so many favorites but I just re-read "Lavender Fields" and I think it's a perfect Nick and Charlie meeting up in their 30s fics. There's a ton of University fics too.

I haven't read nearly as many fics from other fandoms, so I don't know their quirks. I'm finding that fandoms that don't have a m/m pairing are hard to find a lot of fics for. (That's a whole 'nother post). But other m/m fandoms seem to have canon-compliant extra scenes. (Wanna see Achilles and Patroclus get freaky in a tent somewhere? Here ya go. That being said, there's one about Achilles waiting for Patroclus in the Underworld that breaks. my. damn. heart.)

Anyways, I need to do a serious look-through of other fandoms to see how this plays out.

I should add the links here to the fics I mention, just because.

[mikuyuuss]

i still think about your older post about female demon slayer character designs 😭 i go back to it a lot and it has made me put deeper thought into how intentional the design choices are in gotouge's part. i wanna know if you have any other thoughts on the design choices of the other characters??

Omg sorry the delay. Idk why I wasn't notified of this but I'm glad u liked my old posts, even if the writing is kinda messy and all over the place, pls forgive me (I still do stand by a lot of my thoughts on it, if you can look pass the grammar errors)

I'm not sure if I can still make another detailed analysis for all of them, I did the girls before since there's only four of them, so its easier (and then giyuu just because XD) but I do think Gotouge did a great job with all of them. The hashiras definitely stood out to me, and I'll try to summarize.

I like that they are all wearing very customized uniforms. It really shows they they are a unit while still being unique individuals. I know some people found their designs kinda ridiculous and weird at first, but I think Gotouge simply took the classic "Almighty student council" trope in anime where a group of people within an organization are so powerful and above the rules, that they can be as weird as they want. I think Gotouge applied that trope to the hashiras, and dialed it up to show how strong and unique each of them are.

I think it works for them. It adds to their charm. In kny, we rarely see the characters doing things outside of demon slaying, so giving them over the top designs and breathing styles, help give us a little glimpse into what kind of the person they are and what we think their hobbies could be.

If you just look at Uzui's design, you already get the vibe that he's someone who enjoys fireworks and explosions (and he does!) He even has nail polish on his nails, which shows that Uzui takes good care of his looks and is stylish, maybe his wives even paint it for him! He used to be a Shinobi, someone who has to live in the shadows, but everything about his design is loud and screaming, which really tells us about how sick he is of his former lifestyle.

With Muichiro it's hard to pinpoint, because there's a sense of mystery to him. Everything about his clothes and his hair is plain and loose. The way his hair moves sometimes covers obscures his face, which very much matches his mist breathing. It's all intentional! It shows how Muichiro didn't fully know himself.

With Himejima he has a very top heavy design to show how strong he is and to match with stone breathing, he has very earth colors. I do like that the scar on his forehead is horizontal, bc horizontal motif expresses stability and it could imply his gentler nature, which is why it's no surprise when we learned that he's into cats, and cares for children.

With Sanemi, everything about him is rugged. His scars are mostly diagonal, even the belts on his ankles are diagonal. He doesn't seem like someone who cares about aesthetics. He just wants to show how angry (and hot) he is. His overall design isn't that colorful either, except for a few hints of green. I like that green is mostly a calm color yet used for someone aggressive like Sanemi, maybe this could imply his hidden kindness? Also LOVE the design of his swordguard, the little spikes forming a pinwheel! It adds a little playfulness to his otherwise angry design.

With Rengoku, he is ketchup mustard, guy fieri aesthetic from head to toe. Everything about his design is super straight forward which matches his direct, honest and extroverted personality. I also feel that red and flame motifs are things that are very much favored in shounen media. Either that, or green to which red and green are complimentary colors, so it makes sense why his relationship with Tanjiro ended up being so important. The moment I saw Rengoku I knew he was going to be especially important bc of his design.

With Obanai, the stripes really compliment the socks he gave Mitsuri, which already shows their connection. Most people are already aware about the stripes on Obanai's haori and how it relates to his backstory, so I won't go over that anymore. I like the how Mitsuri has thin stripes vs Obanai's bold stripes. It shows the contrast between them with how Mitsuri is sweet yet physically strong, while Obanai is not as strong but has a more aggressive personality. Vertical stripes are often associated with prisoners and social misfits, which is a motif that is very fitting for him and Mitsuri.

I recently learned in fashion school the saying that "A good design should serve its purpose." It's less about whether it looks good or not, that's subjective. As long as there's clear aesthetic that serves its purpose (expressing the characters) it's already good fashion, so kny characters are stylish af /jk/lh

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLEFT HAND * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Matt hurt his right wrist during a horse ride for a video, but who said that a wrist guard would hold him back from fucking Y/N with his fingers?

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader 　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　smut (mdni), switch!Matt, switch!Y/N, fingering, pet names, injuries, and pain.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²　::　this is a repost of an old fanfic of mine that got deleted by tumblr! *if you've read it when I posted it last year, you can read it again because I changed almost everything.

The spacious room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. In the bed, the blankets were already a mess, twisted, and kicked to the side as if they had no place in the heat currently going on by its side. 

The scent of Matt - clean, slightly musky, and overwhelmingly comforting - mixed with the faint trace of Y/N's perfume created an intoxicating blend that only heightened the tension.

Matt's lips were on hers, his mouth moving with an almost reckless need, tasting, devouring, drinking her in like she was the only thing that could stop his thirst. His tongue pushed past her lips, slick and desperate, tangling with hers in a messy dance that left no room for air. The taste of him - warm, slightly sweet, and entirely intoxicating - spread through her mouth, mixing with the faint traces of mint and something purely him.

A low, needy moan vibrated from the back of her throat, swallowed immediately by Matt, who only deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with hers, hot and uneven, almost creating a cloud between them. Saliva slicked their lips, making every pull and drag of his mouth against hers wetter, sloppier, easier.

His left hand tangled in her hair, fingers tightening just enough to keep her exactly where he wanted. His thumb stroked the hinge of her jaw, dragging slow and teasing before slipping down to press against her throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his digit.

Their lips parted only for a moment, a groan coming from Matt diving into her mouth, the sound reverberating against her lips.

Y/N's hands roamed over his shoulders and chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath her touch, the warmth of his skin under his shirt. The fabric had ridden up, exposing the soft flesh of his stomach, and she couldn’t help but run her hands over the small rolls, feeling the tension in his body under her fingers. Every soft sigh and groan from him was like music to her ears, something that had her head spinning.

Matt's right hand, encased in a black wrist guard, hovered hesitantly before it found its way to her waist, fingers toying with the hem of her cotton shorts. The pain in his wrist flared slightly with each movement, a horrible reminder of his earlier accident - which made him regret all his choices about going horse riding for a video - but he swallowed the pain, determined to ignore it.

He had been so careful all week, listening to his brothers and the doctor, not using his hand any more than absolutely necessary. But now, with Y/N against him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her pupils dilated, the need was unbearable. 

He needed more.

He needed to touch her, to feel her, to have his fingers buried deep inside her where she was warm and wet.

He almost could feel her heartbeat under his fingertips when he moved them, quick and unsteady. His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shorts, trying to slip underneath, to find the heat he wanted so much. 

But then it all stopped.

Too sudden.

Y/N's hand grabbed his bicep, halting his movements while pulling away abruptly. Her eyes met his.

"Matt, you can't." She whispered, her voice soft but firm, the kind of tone that made him both love and hate how much she cared. "The doctor said you shouldn’t use your right hand. It’s going to hurt you more, and you know that."

Matt's breathing was ragged, his face a mixture of frustration and desperation. He pressed his forehead against hers with a thud, trying to steady his racing pulse.

"But I need it." He pleaded like a small child, his voice rough and thick with need. "I need to feel my fingers inside you. Please... just- just for a lil bit-"

His words were an urgent whisper against her lips, followed by a soft whimper that made her heart ache. Her hand moved up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip.

"Honey." She murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. "I know you want to. And I want you to, too. But you need to heal. You can’t hurt yourself more just because we’re both desperate to fuck."

Matt let out the most wrecked, frustrated groan, tilting his head back like he was physically in pain from holding back.

"Fuck." He breathed, his voice strained and needy. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, trying - failing - to ground himself. 

He felt like he was burning alive, every inch of his body aching for her, every nerve begging for relief.

His left hand trembled as it slid down from her hair, over her side, gripping at anything he could touch before he cupped her pussy through her shorts.

"Please." He whined, his fingers pressing into the damp heat, the fabric doing nothing to hide how soaked she was. His breath stuttered, and his head dropped against her shoulder as he cursed again, voice barely more than a breathless moan. "Baby, fuck- you're so wet. You’re so-"

"Matt." Y/N muttered, her voice a mix of a plea and a warning. She covered his hand with hers, trying to stop him, but her thighs said otherwise, clenching at the feel of his palm pressed so firmly against her. "You're hurt-"

He opened his eyes, and the sheer desperation in them made her words falter. His pupils were blown wide, small droplets of sweat glistening on his messy haired forehead, his lips a pretty pink, his whole body trembling against hers.

"I don’t care." He whispered, voice cracking. "I don’t care about the fucking pain or my shitty wrist, I- m'just need you. Please, Y/N, just lemme-" His hand pressed up harder, chasing the friction, his hips rolling against their bed like he couldn’t help himself.

His right hand, despite the pain, fumbled at her shorts, his fingers weak, shaking as he tried to push them down.

"Need it so bad i'fucking hurts." He whimpered, voice thick and wrecked. "Can't y'feel it? How m'feelings are hurt? My cock?"

Dramatic little shit.

Y/N’s resolve was crumbling fast, her own need mixing with the sheer desperation pouring off him in waves. 

"Okay." She whispered, their breaths mingling, their lips barely apart. "But we go slow. If it hurts too much, you stop. Deal?"

Matt nodded furiously, relief flooding his face, his fingers immediately slipping lower. His hand shook as he brushed over her pussy, the barest touch making her suck in a sharp breath.

He took his time, eyes locked on her face, watching. His fingers finally found her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the thin fabric, the friction making her hips stutter against his touch.

"Oh, fuck-" Her head tipped back, her nails digging into his clothed shoulders.

She’s dizzy, floating in some soft, cloudy realm where only Matt exists, gasping when he bites at her exposed throat and sucks sharply, the sting of pain shooting down into her pussy without missing a beat.

"That’s it." He breathed against her skin, his voice thick with want. "Is it good, baby? Hm? You can admit it. Y'can tell me how much you want my fingers inside you."

Y/N whimpered, and Matt groaned, his tongue flicking against the sensitive spot below her ear. His fingers pressed harder, dragging another moan from her lips, and he chuckled breathlessly, the sound vibrating against her neck.

"Fuck, angel." He murmured. "Can feel how wet you're. Just say the word, and I’ll give it to you."

"I want it." She breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her hips moved on their own, trying to chase something, anything, the heat inside her walls growing more insistent. "Please, Matt, I want- I need it."

He smirked, brushing his lips from the spot below her ear to her jaw, softly licking her chin before finally capturing her lips in another kiss. His left hand met his right one on her waistband, mixing her shorts with her panties before tugging both down.

He tried to focus on the feel of her lips, the taste of her mouth, using it to distract himself from the ache in his wrist with the movements.

Matt managed to pull the clothing down just enough, his right fingers finally having direct contact with her warm pussy. He exhaled shakily inside her mouth as his fingers slid over her folds, parting them.

"God- all that f'me." He breathed out, his voice a low, reverent murmur, the slick sound of her wetness echoing like music to his ears. "’ve wanted this all week, y'know? This stupid wrist wouldn't let me touch m'girl."

Y/N’s breath hitched, watching him with smart eyes as her hips moved into his touch.

He kept his left hand against her hip, using it for balance while his right one moved with a kind of practiced ease. His thumb found Y/N's clit, circling the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure.

The wetness around it made him groan, forcing him to straight up his upper body so he could give all his attention to her pussy, the sensation nearly enough to make him forget about his wrist guard.

But it was too good to be true.

The moment his thumb changed the rhythm to up and down along her clit length, a sudden sharp pain shot through his wrist, like a knife stabbing up his arm. He went still, the breath catching in his throat, and Y/N noticed immediately.

Her eyes, glazed with pleasure, suddenly regained consciousness, filling with concern. She forced her feet against the edge of the bed, pushing herself away from him, looking down at his arm with worry etched on her features.

"Matt?" She asked, voice shaky. "Hey, let it go. Let it go. It’s okay. Are you okay?"

He blinked at her, the pain mingling with the overwhelming desire that still thrummed through his veins.

It was almost absurd, this whole situation. 

No. Actually, he was pretty sure it was absurd.

Here he was, with the most beautiful girl in the world, touching her, and all he could do was wince like an idiot because of a stupid injury. 

The absurdity of it made him laugh, a breathless, incredulous sound that bubbled up from his chest.

"Y/N, I’m fine." He chuckled, the sound strained but genuine. "Just... this damn wrist. Hurts like hell."

Y/N's eyes widened with concern.

"Matthew, that's not funny! We won't-"

But she was quickly interrupted with Matt shaking his head, silencing her worries by gently pulling his hand away from her core, pretending not to notice how her hips moved, searching for it again instinctively. 

He moved up, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, soothing kiss, his laughter still hanging in the air between them. His kisses were filled with reassurance, his uninjured hand cradling her cheek as he pressed his body closer to hers. 

"Shh, it's okay." He murmured against her mouth, his tone light, trying to ease the worry that lingered in her eyes. "You always worry too much, you know that?"

She pouted against his swollen lips, a little furrow appearing between her brows. 

"Well, someone has to look out for you, Matt. Y'always getting into trouble." Her voice was a mix of seriousness and affection, the worry not entirely gone from her eyes.

Matt didn’t respond right away. Instead, he sealed their lips in a slow, teasing touch, stealing the last of her protests before deepening it. His tongue swept over the hood of her mouth - warm and wet, his body pressing close, melting away any lingering frustration she had.

"Okay, so maybe the right hand’s out of commission." He murmured against her lips, his breath warm as he pulled his chin back just enough to speak, the tip of his tongue tracing against her lower lip. "But I’ve got another hand, don’t I?" The top of her pearly teeth scraped his upper lip, tickling the sensitive skin.

When he pulled away just slightly, his grin was lazy and confident. 

"I mean, I know I’m right-handed, but how hard can it be?" He wiggled the fingers of his left hand, the movement catching the bedside lamp’s glow.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the daze of his kisses fading just enough for her to register his words. She pulled back, her brows arching as she took him in with a skeptical once-over.

"Matt, you’ve never used your left hand for anything like this. Well, for nothing at all, actually.” He nodded his head sideways. “What makes you think you can now?" Despite her words, there was a hint of amusement in her tone, her lips twitching into a small smile.

His grin widened, a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes. 

"Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? Besides, I’ve got the best motivation in the world right here." He murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned down, brushing his lips over hers again. Her taste was his addiction.

She squinted her eyes.

"Just let me try, baby. I promise I’ll make it good f´you. I always do, hm?"

Y/N bit her lip, her teeth tickling his in the process, torn between wanting to keep him safe and the desire that still pulsed through her, that seemed to only intensify with his words. Finally, she gave a small nod, her hands sliding down his shoulders.

"Okay. But be careful, Matt." She warned, her voice soft. “I don't want to run to the hospital right now.”

“Y´wont need to, angel.”

His left hand reached her bare pussy, caressing her mons pubis, feeling the freshly-shaved skin and taking his time in there - getting close to her clit and then retreating again, until he had Y/N’s hips moving against his hand again, her thighs clenching around his hips and her voice breaking while begging.

"Matt, please." She whimpered, squirming beneath him, her hands squeezing his wrist. "Don't tease."

There. That's exactly the reaction that he was waiting for.

He paused, stopping his movements, his injured hand pressing just slightly against her bare waist.

"What do you need, baby? I'm giving you what you wanted, right? For me to go easy..."

"No- I know, just- just touch me. Please." Her voice came out in a whisper, her teeth caging her bottom lip, trying to keep her hips steady, not wanting to hurt him.

Matt's lips formed a cocky smile, letting his left fingers travel down, sliding through her clit and, finally, stopping by her hole with the preciseness of someone who had done so a million times before.

"I love how wet I can make you, dove." He murmured, his voice a mix of awe and desire. "You have no idea how much I adore feeling you like this."

His fingers traced her entrance, teasing, testing the waters before he pressed just the tip of one finger inside her. The sensation was electric, a spark that shot through both of them, making Y/N sigh, her hands flying from his wrist to his shoulders, tightening around his shirt.

Matt moved slowly, his finger pushing deeper, knuckle by knuckle, letting her adjust to the intrusion. The feeling of her walls tightening around his digit, warm and slick, causing him to groan low in his throat.

"God, y´feel so good." He breathed, his voice a husky whisper. “M´never getting tired of it."

Y/N’s head was spinning, her senses overwhelmed by his touch, his words, the heat of his body against hers. She could feel her arousal pooling, a tight coil of need building inside her, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Her hips moved in small circles, meeting his movements, encouraging him. 

"More." She whispered, her voice breathless, filled with need. "Please, Matt, I need more."

He pressed a kiss to her lips, caressing her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue before sucking the sensitive skin, muffling her plea, his finger slowly beginning to pump in and out of her, each movement careful.

He crooked his digit, aiming for that spot nestled deep in her body, right where he knew it would feel best, his thumb brushing against her clit with every thrust, drawing soft moans from her.

"Is that what y´needed?" He asked, letting her bottom lip go with a soft ‘pop’, smirking.

He let her pull away when her lungs begged for air, watching the way she rolled her hips back and forth, the squelching wetness sounds of fingers fucking into her dripping hole making Matt's cock throb painfully.

"Ye-yeah, so good." She breathed out, her chin moving while searching for his lips again, unsuccessfully. "Matt-"

He, by surprise, added a second finger, stretching her, filling her more completely. 

"Yes, that's it." She whined desperately when he moved slowly in, letting her adjust, savoring the feel of her around him.

Y/N stuttered on her own exhale, hiccupping high in her throat as Matt resumed his movements, pressing the pad of his fingers right against her sweet spot repeatedly, fucking into her leisurely. The brunette spread his fingers into a V shape, making Y/N moan louder, her hands tangling in his hair, tugging as she lost herself in the sensation.

He could feel her walls clenching around his knuckles, her body tightening as the pleasure built, each thrust sending a wave of heat through her.

"Feeling good, sweetheart? Is m´left hand making you feel the best?" Matt purrs, thoroughly pleased at the way he's giving all the pleasure to his girl.

Y/N´s fast nods and little whimpers have Matt’s eyelashes fluttering, his hips jolting between her thighs and mattress, causing the girl to squeak in response, her lips trembling as they formed a soft 'o', the heat simmering in the low pit of her stomach burning brighter and brighter with each messy thrust, Matt's fingers rubbing soothing circles with each sharp jut of his wrist. Wetness squelched between her thighs, making their bed wet and messy.

"Yeah-eah, Matt, fuck- S´fucking good. M´so close." She warns, the words coming out soft and whiny, laced with a kind of need Matt would recognise anywhere. "Please..."

Matt laughs softly.

"Always so easy, huh, sweetheart?" He was quick to pick up the pace, his fingers curling inside her, and Y/N whined in response.

"Shut up." The girl complains.

Mercifully, Matt does, and their mumbled words are replaced again with the sound of laboured breathing and heady, desperate little noises, trembling as Matt grinds his fingers into her in lazy but extremely deep little circles. Y/N gasps, rocking down into the feeling as her hands scrabble to grasp at Matt’s arms, nails digging in and lips parting on a moan.

"Baby- Matt, 'm gonna..." Y/N stuttered, her back arching as she fucked back onto his fingers, pink tongue resting against her spit-slick lips, eyes hooded and entirely dazed.

Matt hummed in agreement, kissing along Y/N’s sweaty forehead lovingly as he pressed his own hips against the mattress, his erection straining against the fabric, seeking relief from the pressure that also built inside him. Each thrust of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure through him, her wetness drenching Matt's hand, coating the long digits in sweet sticky wetness.

"Fuck, Y/N, you’re making a mess in my hand." He groaned against her forehead, his voice a low, breathy whisper. "God, I want to be inside you- I want to fuck you so bad."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, her walls clenching around his fingers tighter than before, ready to snap.

"Hmm fuck- Want my cock, sweetheart?" He murmurs, nuzzling at her sweaty hair. "Wanna feel my dick fill you up, huh, baby? Such a good girl."

"Wanna ride you." She whines, the confession pulling a barking laugh from Matt.

"Lemme make y´feel good with m´fingers first, yeah?" He says breathlessly.

Y/N's eyes roll back as she clutches Matt tighter to her while rolling her hips harder.

"Pup- fuck... Fuck, please- M´so good f´you, best girl ever." She promises, the sudden words tumbling free as she moves her hand to his hair, pulling hard, the echo of his loud groan sounding numb inside her ears. "In me, God- Please, don’t stop."

He didn’t.

He just increased his pace, his fingers moving faster, deeper, leaving a delicious burning sensation at her wet ring. He could feel her getting closer; her walls tightening more and more, her moans growing louder, her words getting lost.

Matt keened, rutting against the bed nonstop, his own breath ragged and his mind clouded with lust, the need to see her cumming driving him forward.

Y/N's eyes opened momentarily from its position rolled up her skull, looking upwards at the same time he looked at her, locking gazes with him, and Y/N let out the most filthy cry of pleasure, her mouth hanging open as he held her gaze.

"Cum f´me, angel." Matt cooed, his voice rough. Then, he crooked his fingers once again, a sharp thrust sending Y/N tumbling over the edge with a quiet little whine. More wetness gushed out of her, making the slide almost too easy, as Matt twisted his fingers, fucking his pretty girl to her orgasm. "That's it."

The moment she hit her peak, her body convulsed, her walls clenching around his digits, and a high-pitched moan escaped her lips. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her hips moving in rhythm with his fingers, riding out her orgasm.

The feeling of her pulsing around him, the wetness, the heat, the smell, the sheer intensity of her release, was almost too much for Matt to bear. His head dropped roughly against her trembling shoulder, kept the pace of his fingers steady, whimpering as he slides his mouth wetly along her shoulder, biting the sweaty skin, his cock head rubbing against the mattress as moans tumble free and meld with Y/N's pulse.

"Shit- babe, come on- cum f-f´me." Y/N whimpered against the side of his head, her hips still moving uncontrollably, her orgasm still burning inside her veins.

Matt huffs a laugh, shaky and cut with a moan.

"Yeah, angel, fuck. Gonna-"

All it takes is Y/N stretching up and nuzzling at the curve of his neck before latching on to a patch of skin and sucking hard to have the boy’s body drawing tight under her as he groans.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, oh, God, Y/N-" His body acted on instinct as it arches, cum dribbling down his dick and soaked his boxer shorts, a shiver running through his spine as his eyes rolled up his skull, his right hand curling painfully around his wrist guard.

As the waves of Y/N´s orgasm finally began to subside, her body relaxed, her muscles going slack. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glowing. She looked down at him through heavy-lidded eyes, stifling a smile. 

Y/N noses at warm skin until she finds a mouth, kissing it hard and moaning softly, giggling when she pulls back and is greeted with Matt looking so sweetly dazed, lips wet and kissed cherry red, a few beads of sweat trailing down from his temples.

The boy leans in and steals the laughter off her lips for the thousandth time that night, and they sink deeper into the mattress, sighs slipping as they revel in the post-orgasm heat and the closeness and the taste of each other.

"Baby." She whispered, her voice hoarse, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. "That was... amazing."

Matt couldn’t help the lazy smile that spread across his face, head spinning and heart swelling with pride at the fact she just came hard with only his left hand.

"Hmm, yeah?" He mumble quietly, feeling boneless as little sighs fell from his lips, hitting her cheeks.

She lowered her head, laying her forehead on his shoulder, eyes rolling closed as she nodded slowly.

"Yeah."

He slowly withdrew his fingers, the wetness sticking to his skin glistening against the low light. Matt made a show of backing away only a bit, bringing his hand to his mouth, his plump lips wrapping around his fingers sweetly before finally cleaning it dry with his warm tongue. The digits came out from between his now wet lips seconds later, a 'pop' sound echoing lowly.

He smiled with the way Y/N's eyes watched his movements like a hunter watches its prey before leaning down slowly, caressing her lips against his.

Her taste was still on his tongue, mingling with the salt of sweat.

"I told you I could do it with my left hand." He murmured against her lips, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek. "If the goal is to pleasure you, I will always find a way."

Y/N hummed contentedly, her fingers letting his messy hair go to travel slowly from his neck to his clavicle and shoulders, her right hand wrapping around his biceps, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Her left one kept going, lowering through his arm, leaving a trail of shivers behind before brushing against the band of his wrist guard, a reminder of his injury, and she bit her lip, her head spinning with thoughts of how she could take care of him, just as he had taken care of her.

She shifted slightly.

"Y´know." She said softly, her voice teasing as she moved her face away from his, looking into his eyes. "I think you deserve a little reward for being so... creative with that left hand of yours."

Matt let out a breathy chuckle, his grip on her tightening just slightly before he fully relaxed again, his body still warm and pliant against hers. His dark lashes fluttered as he looked at her through half-lidded eyes.

"There’s no need." He murmured, voice hoarse, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. His thumb brushed over her warm skin, fingers barely holding on.

Y/N’s playful expression faltered for a second, her brows drawing together. 

"Why? Are you hurting?" Her bottom lip jutting to form a small pout, her voice quieter, searching his face for any sign of discomfort.

At that, Matt’s brows twitched, his exhaustion momentarily overshadowed by the need to reassure her.

"No, angel." He said quickly, shaking his head, his fingers pressing just a little firmer against her skin as if to anchor her closer. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before his gaze flickered downward, his confidence slipping into shyness. "Already came… T´was so good.”

Y/N followed his gaze, wetting her lips when she saw the damp spot against the black fabric. Her eyes flicked back up to him, taking in the way he suddenly looked a little embarrassed, his ears tinged pink, matching with his cheeks.

Matt cleared his throat, shifting his hips just slightly. His voice was softer when he spoke again. 

"Don´t- don´t know if I can handle another now."

Y/N blinked, her heart giving a slow, affectionate thud at the admission. Her lips curled into a smile, impossibly fond, as she reached for him again, her fingers threading through his messy hair, soothing.

"Matt." She breathed, her voice carrying something between love and arousal. "Fuck- pup, you’re so-" She stopped herself, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh as she shook her head.

Matt huffed a small chuckle of his own, though he still refused to meet her gaze for too long. 

"What?"

She cupped his face, tilting it so he had no choice but to look at her. His blue eyes were still heavy-lidded, but there was something else swimming in them now, something raw and so deep. She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, wetting her lips.

"Y´so good to me." She whispered. “I don´t need you to cum again, okay? Wanted to please you. That´s all.”

Matt exhaled, his lips parting slightly, his features relaxing completely at her words. His left hand found her waist again, thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the fabric of her shirt.

"Yeah?" He asked in a murmur, his voice thick with something that made Y/N’s stomach flip.

She let out a quiet hum, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss against his lips. Matt keens, lighting up under the simple touch, his body warm and pliant under her touch, and Y/N chuckles softly, nipping his lip before murmuring against his mouth.

"Always, baby."

© vanteguccir

[sparkflower-fields]

✨Blog Introduction Post✨

Hello everyone! Welcome to my multimuse blog! My name is K.B. or KayBee, whichever you prefer! I am 25 years old and my pronouns are They/Them.

Muse List

Autobots: Bumblebee (IDW/Cyberverse) Cheetor (Cyberverse) Drift/Deadlock (IDW) First Aid (IDW) Skyfire/Jetfire (G1/IDW) Swerve (IDW) Tailgate (IDW) Optimus Prime/Orion Pax (ES/TFA/TFP/IDW/TF1) Ratchet (TFP/IDW) Rewind (IDW) Rodimus/Hot Rod (IDW/Cyberverse) Jazz (G1/IDW) Perceptor (IDW/Cyberverse)

Decepticons: Knockout (TFP/IDW/ES!AU) Megatron/D-16 (ES/IDW/TF1) Nickel (IDW) Rumble/Frenzy (G1) Starscream (IDW/Windblade/G1/TF1) Thundercracker (IDW/Skybound)

Others: Nightshade (Earthspark) Kitbasher (OC)

This blog is a roleplay blog for the Transformers fandom, featuring multimuse, multiverse and canon divergent aspects! So if something isn't quite accurate, that's okay! We are all here to have fun and write interesting narratives and to create with one another!

This blog is an 18+ blog, meaning anyone under the age of 18 is requested to not interact with any of the muses, or myself (the mun) especially in any inappropriate ways! I am willing to be kind, and interact in PG settings with younger folks, but anything more than that will earn a block. It is for your safety and my own.

If you are an adult and wish to interact with my muses in a spicy (20+ NSFT/NSFW) way, please direct your interactions to @cigarettes-after-interface that is my after dark roleplay blog!

Now, for the roleplay stuff!

Length

Typically, I roleplay longform style, with anywhere from two or three paragraphs to five or six, depending on how long the roleplay has gone on, how much my muse is involved in the scene and how detailed my partner's responses are.

Format

My preferred format is narrative style. For example: "The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog." Said the narrator. Though on occasion, when being silly and/or lazy I have used asterisks. (i.e. *Stick bug dance.*)

Consistency

I will always try to remain consistent in my replies, in length, format, grammar and frequency, and I would like to expect the same from others when engaging in serious roleplay (not shenanigans.) Communication is key! If I am actively roleplaying with someone, and I will be taking longer than usual to reply or will be gone for an extended period of time, I will try to let them know, and I expect the same of those who roleplay with me. Also, I will tell you in private if I am growing bored, uninspired, or uncomfortable with a roleplay, and I fully expect for you to do the same. If you don't communicate with me do not expect me to reply in the ways you want me to!

With that all being said, I know it seems daunting to speak with me, or to roleplay with me. I assure you its not! I am a very easy person to talk to and get along with, so please feel free to send my muses asks, or even shoot me a private message! If I'm busy I will get to your message eventually, I never leave messages in my inbox unread.

I hope to speak with you all and get into some fun roleplays with you all!

-Mun (aka "Kaybee")

[eternal-spice-overlord]

🔥 INTRO POST!!! 🔥

"Listen up!! I can't laze about letting my dough go cold, so I'm on a quest to challenge the spiciest Cookies around! Think you can handle the spice? Then come and face me!"

// This is a non-canon compliant roleplay blog for Capsaicin Cookie. It's entirely for funsies, so feel free to come say hi and get silly!

🔥 BLOG RULES 🔥

"Bring on all the spice! It's no problem!"

This is an LGBTQIA+ safe space

Other roleplayers are welcome to join! Doesn't matter if it's canon, AU or an OC.

Suggestive is okay, NSFW isn't. I don't mind a joke or two but keep it minimal.

Shipping is okay (adults only please)

// I'm slowly working on tags!

#🔥 Hot off the press - Asks

#🔥 Out of the frying pan - Out of character

🔥 NAVIGATION 🔥

Headcanons:

Polychamps

Sillies

Spicy Papa

Short Stories:

Meeting Mala Sauce Cookie

// Out of character will look like this!

🔥 BLOG OWNER 🔥

I'm 18+ and would prefer my roleplay partners to be the same.

I'm sorry for the late responses! I'm a writer at heart and I'm very paranoid about grammar. I also have adhd and tend to forget things, so don't be shy in letting me know if you're waiting on a response.

[ambrozjas]

Hi, I love you writing sm! i was wondering if you can do johnny cade or ponyboy where they're dating reader but English isn't reader first language so they struggle with communicating or have a hard time understanding! It's fine if you don't want to do this, I understand! <3

violets ꨄ︎

ponyboy curtis x foreign!reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

i hope you don’t mind i turned it into a more so ponyboy teaching reader how to speak/read english !! this request was v cute though, thank you ^_^

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

none

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

354 words, ~2000 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“y’see, this right here, is ‘violet’. can you say that f’me?” ponyboy pointed at the word in his book. he didn’t mind teaching you how to learn english, maybe you could even teach him your language too, he thought.

“fffff..” you tried to no avail. english was just so complicated. the difficult grammar and alternate spellings, you thought it was basically impossible.

ponyboy made a ‘v’ sound with his mouth, trying his best to get you to mimic him. “your front teeth go on your bottom lip.”

you did what he asked and looked up at him, waiting for further instruction. “yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s kinda like an f sound but jus’ more pressure.” he made a vuh sound to further demonstrate.

“..v-uh?” you repeated and ponyboy immediately nodded his head. “vuh-i-oh-lit.” he said, he knew you were on the right track, he just had to get you to the end.

“vi-oh-let?” you said, your lips contorting into a small grin when you realized you had gotten it right. ponyboy smiled at you before he heard your mother call you from inside the house.

“well, we can pick it up next time, yeah?” he said, gathering his book and lifting himself off your front steps, the hot pavement from the tulsa heat slightly reddening his hand.

“yeah..” you said meekly, just in case you had gotten one of the syllables wrong.

an awkward pause came between you two, before your mother called for you again.

“well, i’ll see y’a.”

“pony!” you shouted, you just had to say something else. you wished this process would come faster, that english would just fall naturally off your tongue and your accent wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

ponyboy turned around, book under his arm and one foot in front of the other.

“thank you, pony.” you mentally fist bumped yourself as you managed to formulate a sentence without help. all pony did was sheepishly smile, and give you a small wave before he was headed off, presumably to his house or the lot.

yeah, learning english was hard, you thought, but ponyboy made it fun.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i literally love writing for ponyboy 😭 also, yes i see those requests in my inbox and im on my way to posting them ! just give me time guys, they’re all v lovely reqs :)

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱