#but imagine it's someone's birthday so as a present you give them a fucked up version of their dead daughter that they get to spend a short

[54625]

remember when the QSMP admins invited Charlie Slimecicle on for a fun birthday surprise and were like "yay!! Happy birthday 🎉🎁🎂🎈!!! Have a great day!!" for about an hour and then made him sob like a baby

[kurooandkenmasslut]

ANYTHING FOR YOU.

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭!!

Based on this link

unprotected sex, neighbours listening... nipple play & sucking, cowgirl (riding) pregnancy (baby fever guys mb 😓), slight hair tugging, heavy makeout, sloppy sex, aftercare king & drabbbbbleeeee

reblogs are appreciated, don't be shy & minors pls don't interact, ageless blogs will be blocked <3

You weren't really sure on how of this happened.

All you remember is being at your boyfriends birthday celebration at the bar, his followers, drink, sweat, and chatter surrounded you. A certain pair of cat eyed eyes stared at your figure all night, already knowing who it was.

Back to the present, your now situated on sugurus lap, his big hands exploring your lower half, peaking his hands under your dress.

Tounges tied to each other while your hips grinded, you let out a moan, feeling his big bulge hitting your clit under your thin laced panties.

He smirked through the makeout, pulling the straps of your skimpy dress down, aswell as your bra, letting your breasts be free.

"suguu.. mmhf.."

"hush angel, I needa see to them first, ya know?' He panted through breaths, continuing sucking on your nipple like a newborn baby.

You grinded harder, as if your pussy wasn't already dripping with slick. Suguru groaned, earning yourself a loud slap on the ass.

Your hands focused on his buttons on his trousers, with shaky hands, you pulled down his briefs, (with his help of lifting his hips up), his big cock sprung out at you.

"sugu, i dont think it'll fi- mhhff!" Interrupted by the sudden push sliding down his cock.

"yeah angel? take me so nicely, i think it fits perfect- fuck.. your so tight baby, ease a lil' bit yeah?"

You groaned as he stretched you out. No matter how many times or how long, the feeling of being streched will never become old. After the pain subsided, you slowly bounced on his dick, while he sat back, a big cheeky grin plastered on his face, watching the gorgeous view.

You, panting and tits bouncing as you struggle to take him, trying to be wary of the complaints of the neighbours.

But in this moment of time, you seriously couldn't give a fuck. Riding your boyfriend raw and loud sounds better than being self conscious that someone is listening. not that you could properly form a thought if you tried anyway.

Every vein, every twitch of his cock, you could feel it, making you reel your head back in pleasure. jesus, this cock will be the death of you.

A tight knot formed in your stomach and your legs were twitching. you were close, both you and him knew it. suguru smirked, rubbing his hands on your ass, messaging it almost.

"sugu.. i-i can't, help- nghh.. sugu!"

"what's the magic word, sweetie,"

"Please sugu! please please! I'm so close!"

the cheeky grin never left his face, only widening. He then took your place, grabbed your ass, rutting his hips into yours at inhuman speed.

"shit.. im starting to get- cl-close.. where do I-" he panted, his eyebrows knitted together as he was coming close.

"inside!! sug-uuhh.. p-pluhhhease!" You squealed, desperate to feel the familiar warmth in your womb.

he raised a brow, of course, you two have talked about having kids, he had the money, you had the time, the house, the two loving parents, everything was perfect.

For some reason that thought of your stomach round with his baby, your tits blown and filled with milk, whining for his help and how sore it was. that egged him on, because he imagined your beautiful face, a grin plastered on your face as he served you the weird craving you were crying for.

As if he could go harder and faster, he did. He then put you on your back, you were startled by the sudden force and speed, you cried out, no, screamed, out. Words couldn't even form in your heads you couldn't warn him that you were cumming.

Cum dripped down your pussy, squelching loud and ringing out in the bedroom.

You gripped onto his back, leaving red marks on his back, your legs around his waist. Suguru held your hips, his eyes stared into you, watching every reaction. He had a habit of being observant.

Soon enough he emptied his seed into your womb, slowing down, riding out his high. You two heavily panted, exhausted from the hard intercourse.

Suguru let go of your waist, holding your hands as he slipped out, making you shiver.

He kissed your forehead and then your lips.

"You alright? want me to get something?" He asked while he rubbed your knuckles.

"Um.. a-a hot bath, please!" he smiled, muttering an "of course,"he slipped on his silk robe you gifted him, before heading out into your shared bathroom.

two minutes later he came back, carrying you bridal style to the bath, carefully setting you down into the bath. It had your favourite scent and favourite flower petals, bubbles reaching to your neck.

"Sugu? can you join me and help me wash my hair? I'm exhausted."

"Of course darling, anything for you." He chuckled.

[hvlcy0n]

CANVAS . sakura haruka x fem! reader

+ tsubaki’s birthday is approaching, and sakura may or may not need your help finding a present. coincidentally, you may or may not need someone to test the gifts on first.

+ 4.3k words

+ SFW (account is still 18+). UNEDITED. i gave tsubaki they/them pronouns. friends to ???

+ i mostly wrote this to get back into the groove of writing, so this was my first time writing for any of these characters. i hope it's not terribly ooc but i literally can’t look at it anymore so just take it

sakura has always prided himself on having never backed down from a fight—never, even when the odds were clearly stacked against him. he has never cowered, never turned tail and fled, never made excuses to weasel his way out of a sticky situation.

but this . . . this is different. 

now, every muscle in his body is rigid, a rubber band poised to snap and launch him straight out of the cosmetic shop he’s found himself in. the tips of his ears feel entirely too warm to be normal, and his hands are shoved firmly in his pockets to mask the sheen of sweat clinging to his palms. he feels out of his element, relegated to the corner between two false eyelash displays. make no mistake, the problem isn’t that he’s cornered in a female–dominated area and couldn’t tell you the difference between blush and bronzer. after all, it doesn’t apply to him, so what business of his is it?

the issue is that tsubaki’s birthday is approaching, and at suo’s behest, sakura set out to locate a proper birthday present for his upperclassman. his first two attempts were sorry at best, with suo sending him straight back into town after being presented with a keychain and then a five��pack of white socks. begrudgingly, sakura complied, trudging through the streets in search of a store that would be appealing to someone of tsubaki’s style. 

that’s where he bumped into you.

as one of tsubaki’s close friends, you’ve been in their orbit for as long as he’s known them, and consequently, in his. from the beginning, you were unabashed in your acceptance of sakura, the glimmer of kindness in your gaze unwavering despite his embarrassed outbursts as he struggled to get used to your presence. he wholeheartedly expected you to give up and deem him unlikable, but you never did. there was always an invitation to hang out on the tip of your tongue, a certain carefulness in your fingertips as you fussed over his injuries and pinched his skin for being reckless, a smile blooming on your lips every time you saw him approach. 

you made strides to understand him—social awkwardness and all.

but, unfortunately—or fortunately, he doesn’t really know—somewhere along the line, that sheepishness and defensiveness he naturally regarded everyone with gave way to something else. he couldn’t quite identify what those feelings were, but he did know that you made him feel different. for starters, the blush that would normally tinge his cheeks when in the presence of his friends would flare almost uncontrollably when he’s with you. 

warmth would bleed down the porcelain column of his throat and stain his chest, stirring to life tongues of flame that lap over his muscles and cocoon his chest cavity in a nearly blistering heat. from there, it would trickle into the pit of his stomach, coalescing into a knot of tangled feelings that left him teetering on the cusp of being addicted to and frightened by your closeness. at some point, you’ve managed to sew yourself into the lining of his life, carving out a space in his psyche that makes his stomach clench to imagine empty.

you’re a fucking problem is what you are.

so, when you, arms laden with your own shopping bags, volunteered to help him find a gift for tsubaki since you were already bouncing from store to store, he was initially planning to decline. but he figured that you would know what they like better than anyone. on top of that, he really didn’t want to return to suo with a third failed attempt.

but, now that you’ve corralled him into some tiny makeup store nobody knows about, he wonders if he should’ve just bitten the bullet and admitted defeat. nobody told him ahead of time that the aisles would be so slim and that he would be expected to leave any concept of personal space at the door. you knew what you were doing, that was for sure. but every time you swept past him on the hunt for something new, a whiff of your perfume would smack him directly in the face and cause his heart rate to spike. if that wasn’t disorienting enough, he didn’t know how many more times he could handle being asked by the senile store manager if you two were together.

no, of course, you weren’t together. that would be ridiculous.

but, every time he stumbled over his words to explain the situation, you would merely laugh, causing his blush to worsen.

yeah, definitely not together . . . 

there’s no way that would happen.

that would be . . .

“sakura!”

the glassiness in his eyes snaps into focus at the sound of your voice, and his soul nearly slips out of his body when he realizes that you’re standing directly in front of him. a worried frown is etched into your features, and you lift a hand striped with an array of different colors to wave at him. “i’ve been calling you! what are you doing all the way over here? i moved like three aisles away and thought you came with me.”

a rosy blush explodes across his face when he realizes that there’s only a sliver of space separating your chests. an almost comical gasp is punched from his chest as he springs past you, rushing to escape the weight of your gaze on his and the bewitching cloud of perfume that’s beginning to settle over him. “sakura,” you sigh when he lands nimbly a few feet away, “just—”

“what?” he snaps defensively, whirling around to fix you with a weak excuse for a glare.”what do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me? i could’ve knocked you out!”

“well, thank goodness you didn’t,” you answer breezily, adjusting your hold on your bags. “here, come on. i need to test some swatches on you since your skin tone is like identical to theirs.”

“some what?”

“swatches.” you nod. “they’re like these,” you lift your hand once more to show off the lines of color smeared over your skin. “it’ll give me a better idea of what i’m working with.”

“yeah, alright.” he agrees easily, glancing off to the side to try to salvage what’s left of his self–control and pretend like he hadn’t just seen his life flash before his eyes. “whatever.” turning away, you can’t help but chuckle softly at his desperate grab for nonchalance. he bristles, heart palpitating, at the sound. “don’t laugh at me!” he shouts, sharply jabbing his index finger at your back as you retreat.

nevertheless, he trails after you, glancing at the abundance of lotions and soaps piled on wooden display shelves along the way. what could girls really need all these options for? do they even sell? his attention drifts to you as you stroll a couple paces ahead. do you use any of them? now that he thinks about it, you seem pretty comfortable in this store. do you frequent it often? were you also looking at stuff you liked? should he have been paying attention? did he make a mistake? holy shit, what is he gonna do for your birthday? 

“sakura,” his spiraling thoughts are dispelled swiftly, and his eyes dart to you immediately. you’ve halted at one of the aisles and are regarding him carefully, features softened with concern. “are you alright? you look like you’re in pain.”

having been caught, his defenses rise automatically. “‘course, i’m alright!” he retorts, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets as he stalks past you and into the aisle you were poised to enter. “dunno what you’re talking about.” he mumbles.

you simply shake your head and follow him. “you’re so prickly.” you sigh, but your tone is laced with a faint lilt of amusement.

“no, i’m not!” he objects instantly, eyes popping open in indignation, not even pausing to think about how it makes him seem.

you simply gesture to him with a loose wave of your hand. “exhibit a.” you snort.

he huffs, spinning back around to glower at the array of eyeshadow palettes beaming up at him. “whatever.” he grumbles. “what’d ‘ya want over here?”

you shift the bags you’re holding to one hand before answering. “this one,” you pick up a sleek black palette and pop it open, showing him a lineup of rich, earthy shades. “here, roll up your sleeve.”

“my sleeve?” he gawks at you like you just told him that you were expecting him to leap headfirst into a tank of venomous snakes. “hold on, that wasn’t part of the agreement! i thought it was just gonna be on my hand. what if it gets on my jacket?”

“that’s the whole reason i’m asking you to roll up your sleeve. the plan is still to just use your hand, don’t worry.” you assure him, and he reluctantly obeys.

you place your shopping bags on the tile floor in favor of reaching for his hand. his reflex is to snatch his hand away and launch himself three feet back, but for some reason, your voice echoes in the back of his mind. prickly. 

sakura knows that he is pretty rough around the edges and isn’t always the easiest person to get along with, but he can say with full confidence that he strives to better himself and adapt to his new situation every day. that being said, physical affection—or affection of any kind—has always thrown him for a loop. he never understood how people could be so casual with one another, so generous with embraces and pats on the back; but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy sensation that would envelop his body whenever he received it. 

your touch is the one that is taking him the longest to grow accustomed to, it’s different from the rough headlocks and fondly ruffled hair that his friends shower him with. at first, he reasoned it was simply because you’re a girl, but that doesn’t quite make sense either. after all, he certainly doesn’t feel like this whenever kotoha or some other girl he winds up saving grabs his arm. this . . . he doesn’t know what it is. 

but he does know that whenever you would make contact with him, he felt fucking weird. butterflies would explode in his chest, the light kiss of their ticklish wings causing his stomach to flip and goosebumps to prickle along his skin. at first, he just thought it was anxiety. but the more he considered it, he recalls that in all his years, he’s never found himself yearning for the feeling of anxiety afterward. 

this is different. your touch is soft. it’s comforting. it brims with a gentle affection that he worries will disarm him if he indulges for too long, yet he can’t deny the tiny nagging in the back of his mind that waits for the next time you’ll playfully bump your shoulder into his or casually place your hand on his shoulder to reach over him. 

maybe that’s why he finds himself remaining still despite the alarm bells ringing in his ears, his body tense and breath lodged in his throat as your fingers curl around his wrist. the certainty in your hold causes a shiver to zing up his spine and a new wave of heat to surge through his body, but you don’t seem phased in the slightest, blissfully ignorant to the internal crisis roiling in his brain as you shuffle half a step closer. he squints at your face in disbelief. why are you so okay with this? with him?

shit. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, much less understand it. 

whatever.

“keep it like this.” you instruct him, and he swears he can physically feel his chest decompress when you release him. 

the first color you smear across the back of his hand is a shimmery copper, and his eyebrows raise as he tilts his wrist to examine it. “not bad, i guess.” he comments. “you think that’ll work?”

“of course! earthy colors look heavenly on blue eyes.” you insist, raising your head with a vibrant grin. dear god, this is not good for his wellbeing.

but, just as quickly, your smile vanishes, and sakura’s eyebrows twitch. “what’s wrong?”

“there’s blue in this one. they don’t particularly care for that color.” you inform him, pointing to a vivid electric blue at the very end of the line.

“what’s so bad about that one?” he frowns. “blue’s not bad.”

“not, it’s not, but it isn’t as flattering on blue eyes as other colors.” his lips pucker into a small “o” at your explanation, and you flip the palette closed and return it to its rightful place.

“huh . . .” sakura muses, eyes skipping over the selection. “earthy colors . . . so like brown?” you hum in agreement, and after a moment of hesitation, he points to a slim palette with a fuzzy coffee–brown color. “what about this?”

“uh . . . let’s see. here’s the tester for it.” you swipe the frontmost one and pop it open to display a dazzling lineup of warm tones ranging from a deep oak shade to pale peach, and after a moment, your eyes gleam. “wait, this might be perfect!” you gasp. your head snaps over to him, delight scrawled across your expression. “how’d you do that?”

inexplicably, he finds his chest swelling with pride at your praise. “well—” he stumbles. “it was just a lucky guess. it’s not like i was payin’ attention or anything. i just happened to pick it up.”

“regardless,” your smile is genuine and unrestrained, and in that split second, he decides that he wants to see it again—just for fun, of course, obviously, “the colors you chose are gorgeous. here.” you swipe a line of light peach eyeshadow beside the copper color. “this one would be perfect for a more subtle everyday look. it’s pretty light on your skin, so i know it’ll look super pretty on theirs. and look!” you point to a copper shade identical to the one from the previous palette. “there’s even one of these!”

“huh . . . yeah, you’re right.” he blinks.

you promptly snap the tester shut and switch it out for an unopened palette. “alright, this is the one! i think they’ll like this one the best.” you beam. he takes it from you, flipping it over in his hands.

oh.

“uh . . .” his brain stalls for a moment as he processes what you’re insinuating. “so . . .” he hesitates, doing his best to ignore the strange prick of disappointment in his gut. “does that mean we’re done here?”

“let me think . . .” you hum, taking a moment to ponder your next move before decisively planting your hands on your hips. “nope! there’s still something else we’ve gotta grab.” he perks up when you abruptly spin around and take off the aisle without warning. 

“h–hey!” he protests, trying yet failing miserably to sound intimidating. “don’t just go off on your own!” he’s left to scramble after you, cheeks burning.

he catches up to you fairly easily, finding you perusing a display of brand new lip glosses by the time he slows to a halt. “this?” he questions. “you wanna get tsubaki . . .” he squints at the sign, “lip gloss?”

your lips curve into a frown. “ugh, there’s no tester for these. whatever, it’s fine.” sakura stares, aghast, as you deftly pluck a light pink gloss from the batch and start to twist it open.

“wh—you can’t just open it!” he gasps. “are you insane?”

“i’m gonna buy it regardless. tsubaki likes this brand.” you reassure him. “i just want to know if it leaves a tint at all.” spotting a mirror on a nearby display, you shimmy past him and make your way up to it, only to heave an exasperated sigh at your reflection. “damn, i forgot i already have one on. this won’t work.”

“well, what are you gonna do?” sakura demands, casting tense, feverish glances around him to ensure you two aren’t about to be accused of thievery. 

he can practically see the cogs rotating in your brain as you mull over your options and pensively press your lips together. he stiffens when you slowly turn to him, a wicked grin blooming on your lips and a new idea illuminating your gaze. “you’re not wearing anything, are you?”

a thick silence stretches between the two of you, disturbed only by the monotonous whir of the air conditioning and the staccato squeak of his sneakers along the tile floor as he shifts backward. he’s not . . . what? he blinks blankly at you, arms dangling uselessly at his sides. wearing anything? why would that matter?

“ . . . huh?”

it’s only when you remove the wand from the bottle with a viscous pop! and take a step toward him that the gravity of your words sets in, and his body jolts as if he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. a shrill gasp that sounds more like a pitiful wheeze wracks his chest, and he staggers backward, narrowly avoiding catching a metal display hook to the back of his skull. “hell no!” he barks, a furious blush blazing across his face. “what are you—you can’t put that on me!”

you continue creeping toward him, eyes alight with mischief. “come here!” you laugh. “you can’t fight destiny.”

of course, he can.

unsuccessful at deterring you, his body naturally assumes a fighting stance, fists lifting as if preparing to strike. but unlike his usual stance, which is cemented by self–assurance and an undeniable prowess, his body feels cumbersome and unsteady, as if he could be bowled over by a single shove to his chest. “so, you wanna fight? is that it?" the slight fracture in his voice doesn’t help the situation. in fact, it only seems to fuel your decision. 

there is no reluctance in your movements as you step directly in front of him. with the way your disposition is still relaxed, he wouldn’t be shocked if his words were merely a figment of his imagination. “oh, come on,” you beg, nudging aside his clenched fists without breaking eye contact. “i just need you to wear a little bit. i’d really do it myself if i could! i have makeup wipes in my bag. you can wipe it off immediately after if you want. promise.”

“the hell you think this is, huh?” he snaps. his defenses compromised, sakura presses the back of his hand to his lips in a last–ditch attempt at protecting the lower half of his face.

“you only have to bear with me for five seconds.”

“fuck no!”

closer.

“sakura, please!”

“y–you . . .”

closer.

“just one . . .” you murmur, stepping close enough for your chest to graze his. sakura inhales sharply and flushes a shade you didn’t even know was possible. “little . . .” the hand clutching the tube raises to tug his last defense away as you lean in. he grits his teeth.

really close.

a small, gravelley sound of complaint grinds its way out of sakura’s throat as he finally stills, pinned helplessly between you and a lip balm display. even so, he doesn’t push you away. he doesn’t swat the lip gloss out of your hand. he simply stands there, stiff as a board and overly warm to the touch, and allows you to do as you please. as he waits for you to finish, all he can wonder is why? 

why is he letting this happen? he should be rejecting your touch and cursing you out just as he would anyone else. but he isn’t. why? and why are you doing this to him? why are you so comfortable behaving this way with him? why is his heart beating so hard? can you hear it? he sure as hell hopes not.

by the time you step away, it feels both too long yet too soon. sakura clenches his jaw at the frustrating jumble of emotions, but you’re none the wiser as you simply twist the wand back into the tube, eyes aglow. “i was right, it is a pretty color!” you purse your lips sympathetically. “sorry, i know that was probably pretty miserable. you can wipe it off now if you want. it shouldn’t take long for the stain to show up.”

you’re mistaken. the makeup was never the issue. the whole problem is that you were in such close proximity that all he could focus on was the wrinkle of concentration in your brow and how you were close enough for him to count the eyelashes rimming your bottom lid and how warm your skin was and how good you smelled . . . you obscured every one of his senses until he felt like he was drowning in your presence. the problem was that his insecurities began to surface the moment he failed to quell the incessant pounding of his heart and the warm, syrupy feeling seeping through his body at your kindness toward and implicit trust in him. 

the problem was that he liked it, but past memories of loss and betrayal have planted seeds of doubt and fear in his chest, leading him to ponder how long he will be granted such goodness before it slips through his fingers. the problem was that he liked it, and he believes that someone like him shouldn’t. the problem was that he liked it, and now he has no clue what the fuck to do.

regardless, he doesn’t respond right away, swiping the hand free of eyeshadow swatches over his lips. “‘s nothing,” he finally mumbles after a moment.

you hum, squinting at his lips. “so, it does leave a stain.”

sakura jolts. “is it super bright?”

you chuckle. “no, it’s pretty faint. oh, right!” you readjust the shopping bags resting on the crook of your elbow to root around in your own personal bag for the makeup wipes you’d promised him. “here!”

he accepts it with a gruff, “thanks . . .” and begins scrubbing the tint off his bottom lip. his tongue reflexively darts out to wet it once he’s finished, and his face contorts in disgust at the sour chemical taste that greets him. 

“gross, right?” you laugh at his reaction.

“dunno how these things haven’t poisoned you yet.” he gripes. 

“me neither,” you agree. you lightly bump your shoulder into his to distract him. “come on, let’s go.”

“whoa, whoa, wait,” sakura wrinkles his nose and points at the tube in your hand. “i can’t give that one to tsubaki if you already used it on me.”

“oh!” your eyes light up. “i’m getting this one. i figured i’d try out their recommendation since i’m here.” you reach out and pick up a crimson color of the same brand. “this one is the present. they mentioned wanting to try a gloss in the same color as their lipstick. i just wanted to see if it really tinted your lips or not.” before he can think too hard about the situation and throw a fit all over again, you turn on your heel and head for the checkout counter.

sakura feels as if his brain has been switched to autopilot during his transaction. his blood pressure has been at dangerous heights throughout almost the entire interaction. how he’s supposed to walk outside and continue on with his day as if nothing happened is beyond his scope of comprehension. is he supposed to pretend like this was normal? or is he supposed to pretend like this didn’t happen?

he sneaks a sly glance in your direction while you pay for your lip gloss, trying to gauge your expression and body language. how do you feel about him? well, he assumes you must find him at least somewhat tolerable if you volunteered your time to assist him. 

his attention trickles down to the abundance of shopping bags balanced on your arm as you use your free hand to pick up the newest addition to your collection. his eyebrows twitch. they must be heavy. at the very least, your circulation must be suffering. he’s carried groceries for enough elderly people to know that much. 

“you’re pretty quiet,” you tease as you both turn away from the counter and head for the exit. “something on your mind?”

he’s silent for a moment, debating whether or not he should risk it. what if this was a stupid decision? what if he’s reading this all wrong? what if you wanted to carry your own bags? you’re a strong girl. you’re perfectly capable of carrying them yourself. he exhales forcefully, and before he can let doubt settle in, he rigidly juts his hand out to you.

“give ‘em here.” he mumbles.

your attention bounces back to him, perplexed. “huh?”

he grits his teeth, embarrassment already beginning to creep in. “your bags. i’ll hold them.”

at first, you’re pleasantly taken aback, a smile blossoming on your lips. but it turns wistful after a couple seconds. “i can’t make you carry everything, sakura. that’d be too—”

a fleeting hint of irritation sharpens his expression, and he kisses his teeth. “fine, then.” he—a tad ungracefully, he hates to admit—snatches your shopping bags off your arm and shoves the small gift bag containing the eyeshadow and lip gloss into your hands instead. “you wanna carry something so badly? carry this.” 

you stare at him with wide eyes, shocked. pretending like he doesn’t feel your gaze burning holes into his temple, he clears his throat and hikes the shopping bags up onto his right shoulder, all the while keeping his head angled away to conceal the light blush dusting his cheekbones.

“sakura, thank you, but you really didn’t have to.” you assure him, but one glance at the indentations where they’d once been tells him otherwise. 

he grunts. “quit worryin’ about it. if they’re heavy, then say something. you helped me out, so just . . .” he pauses, trying to string together his words in a way that doesn’t incriminate him. “think of it as me payin’ you back.”

“but—”

“deal?” he interjects, his voice bearing a note of urgency he hopes you mistake for roughness—for his sake.

but you, ever perceptive, let your gaze linger on him for a moment before your expression melts into a small, knowing smile.

“deal.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

“We should probably just do vanilla cake, right?”

“Our daughter is not boring. She should have confetti cake.”

“Vanilla isn’t boring!”

“It’s literally called being vanilla when someone doesn’t like a little fun in the bedroom, Steve.”

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all, she’s turning one. She’s not gonna care. She’s never had most of this stuff.”

“So her first adventure with it should be fun!”

Steve and Eddie had been arguing about Ella’s first birthday for a month now. It was starting to become an issue as it was two weeks away and they’d planned nothing except for the guest list.

Even Robin was starting to get worried they wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

“What if we let her pick?”

“She’s one.”

“Yeah, and? We give her two options on pieces of paper and she picks one.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because what if she picks princess plates but dinosaur decorations?”

“Why can’t she have both?”

Steve glared at him.

“I’m just saying, she’s one. This party is more for us than her, and she won’t remember it.”

“But there’ll be pictures.”

“And when we all look back at them, she’ll be happy that we let her have whatever made her little one year old brain happy.”

Steve sighed, which meant Eddie was winning. This was the first time he’d had the upper hand the whole time.

“Where can we get a confetti cake?”

“You know Lena? Owns the bakery by the tattoo place?”

“The one who gave you the notebook of all the queer friendly spots in town?”

Eddie snaps his fingers and points at Steve.

“That’s her! She already offered to make one.”

“And you told her yes already, didn’t you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny such allegations.”

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to continue writing things on his checklist that had nothing checked off.

“We also should check with Joyce about using the cabin. I know we said renting the bar out in the morning would be good, but imagine a first birthday in a bar.”

“It’s metal as hell, Stevie.”

“It’s questionable parenting, Eds.”

And here they were at another problem.

————————————

“So you’ve accomplished nothing?”

“We got a cake!”

Eddie was sitting on the couch supervising Ella’s play time while Steve and Robin were “planning” her party in the kitchen.

Eddie had been banished from all party endeavors after he brought home a baby-sized electric guitar and drum set and said it was for her to play at the party.

Robin took over and, admittedly, they’d accomplished a lot more already.

But this was their first official meeting and Robin was shocked to find out that they had next to nothing with only one week until the party.

“You stop talking!” Robin yelled back at him.

So he focused on entertaining Ella.

“Baby girl, I don’t know about you, but this party planning business is not what it’s cracked up to be. Maybe we should just give you your presents here and call it a day, hm?”

“Dada! Pay!”

“Yes, baby, I’m playin’.”

He helped her build a castle with her alphabet blocks, smiling when she pointed to the D and said “D. Dada!”

She was so fucking smart, it was scary.

When she got bored with the blocks, she started tapping on her plastic keyboard, hitting the same two notes again and again.

Eddie showed her the D key.

“This is D, Ella. See this one? You push this and it makes a D note. D like Dada!”

Ella pushed the key and then clapped.

“D! D!”

“Yeah, D!”

She kept smacking the D key, and Eddie kept smiling at her.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned to see Steve smiling down at them, hands on his hips.

“Oh. Ella, show Daddy what you learned.”

“D! Dada! Daddy!” She said as she banged the D key.

Steve sat down next to Eddie and put his hand on his knee, squeezing it once before running his thumb back and forth over the hole in his jeans.

“You showed her that?”

“I’m gonna make her into a baby Mozart,” he said as he nodded. “She’s a natural.”

“Okay, love.”

“How’d the planning go?”

“Robin’s handling it.”

“All of it?”

Steve sighed.

“She said I’m being unreasonable.”

“But when I say it, I’m being rude and not giving you a chance.”

“When she says it, I know it’s true. When you say it, I know it’s because you’re not getting your way.”

“Do you hear this Ella? Slander from your father. I remember when it was just you and me, playing some tunes…”

“Oh my god,” Steve said around a laugh.

“Sometimes three’s a crowd, huh Ella?”

“Dada song!”

“Here, I play, you help.”

Eddie sat Ella in his lap and moved the keyboard in front of them, holding her tiny hands in his to guide them through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Steve clapped at the end of it, beaming at them both as if they’d just performed at Madison Square Garden.

“Incredible. I’d offer you a record deal on the spot.”

“Already had that, I’m retired. Thank you, though.”

Eddie kissed the top of Ella’s head as she kept banging on the keys, then leaned over to kiss Steve’s forehead.

————————————

Robin pulled off a hell of a party.

Not only did she manage to find princess rock star decorations, but she managed to find a live band that was willing to play kids songs, and a caterer who was willing to serve an entirely new menu so last minute.

There was even an open bar for the adults.

Eddie’s entire band and their families were there, the Hawkins crew and their families, Steve’s coworkers and their families, and most surprising of all, Steve’s mom.

He’d gone back and forth on whether to even invite her, but since she’d left his dad, she’d been trying to reconcile and get to know him again.

She brought a Barbie dream house because she didn’t seem to understand that one year olds weren’t quite at Barbie level, but it was the thought that counted or so Eddie kept reminding Steve when he got mad about “thoughtless gifts that just take up space.”

Ella loved playing with all the kids and sharing her new toys. Eddie and Steve had built her a play set at home that she didn’t even see yet.

She was spoiled, but it was the best kind.

Not the kind that Steve had growing up; useless and thoughtless gifts that were flashy and expensive because that’s what helped his parents feel better about leaving him with nannies or alone.

The kind where love was in abundance, where everyone wanted her to have the best because they loved her, where the best was sometimes the dollar store magic wand and tiara set so she could play princess and sometimes was a toddler sized drum set. Everyone came to her party because they were excited she was part of the family, not because they expected a big blowout with the finest food and drinks money can buy.

Eddie took a moment to look around at everyone. He never knew he’d end up here, he couldn’t have even dreamed it in his wildest ones that came from being cross faded in high school.

Steve wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing his shoulder when he started to lean back.

“Turned out great, right?”

“It did, sweetheart. Always does with you.”

[toruro]

Are you taking 'who in svt' asks? If so, who in svt do you think would like nipple piercings on their partner? Just got mine done for a birthday present to myself and it has already done so much for my confidence 🤌🤌

who in svt — partner w/ nipple piercings

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), just lots of boobs, slight implication of corruption kink (?!?!)

a/n: yes! i do take 'who in svt' requests c: glad you're confident in yourself and happy late bday <3 i hope u enjoy

jeonghan

you're a bit of a shy girlfriend, and a boyfriend like jeonghan just loves to coo over how adorable you are. he takes his time with you always, so when you two finally talk about it and you're ready to take you're relationship to the next level, he is thoroughly surprised to see your nipples pierced. not in a bad way—fuck no—in fact, his eyes would nearly pop out of his head before he's smirking playfully. "aww, maybe my cute girl isn't so innocent after all," he'd murmur, flicking one of your nipples causing you to let out a gasp. you'd shake your head and mumble, "hannie, 'm you're good girl." he's bring his head down and close his mouth over one of your tits and run his tongue over the metal bar, nodding, "'course you are baby. such a good girl, you know exactly what i like." the night would be full of jeonghan holding back the urge to literally devour you and he'd insist on only missionary so he can watch your overstimulated tits just bouncing back and forth, loving the way he can just reach down and play with them.

jun

the biggest boob man ever. loves your tits sososo much that you getting a nipple piercing would just give him even more of a reason to stare at them. i imagine that you would surprise him with them for like an anniversary or something, as in you'd get them a while before the day and after your anniversary dinner, he'd take you home and your cunt would pool with excitement as he slowly slips off your top and bra. he'd literally go still looking down at the bar pierced through your nipple, and say something like, "baby, you did this for me?" and you'd nod your head because while you'd been thinking of getting one before you were with jun, his love for your tits was what pushed you to actually getting it done. let me tell you the way this man would have either his hands or mouth CONSTANTLY on your boobs for the rest of the night is insane. they'd be sore from still being recently pierced but the stimulation would have you going crazy. and even after that night, i feel like would sometimes just lift up your shirt when you're cuddling and literally just stare at the piercings. in general, of all the members i feel like jun would appreciate a nipple piercing the most.

minghao

now hear me out because i actually had to put in a lot of thought into this but like then i remembered that minghao has that thigh tattoo and then i was like hmm he'd love someone who is adventurous with their body, but in ways that are a little bit hidden—aka a nipple piercing. i imagine you would have it before you got with him, and minghao being the gentleman he is, would take some time before getting intimate with you. he'd be so fucking surprised the first time you rip off your shirt and bra in front of him, revealing your pierced nipples shyly. you seemed to be such a cute and innocent girl and this just shows a whole new side to you that minghao finds painfully hot (although it's not as if he didn't find you hot before). would waste no time running his deft fingers over the metal bar, looking between your tits and your eyes with an intense gaze, saying, "you've been keeping these a secret from me, angel?" to which you'd only be able to whimper in response from the way he's skillfully playing with your tits. overall would pay so much attention to them, and would be super fascinated and (pleasantly) curious too.

[jounosnumberoneslut]

You are mine, only mine, understood?

Jouno Saigiku; Tecchou Suehiro NSFW

Sorry for the grammatical mistakes english isn't my native language!

Pairings... Jouno Saigiku x fem!reader, Tecchou Suehiro x fem!reader

Contains... a very dirty birthday gift, smut!, masturbation, riding, teasing, dirty talk, dom!Jouno

AFAB reader

Today is your birthday. You were at home, reading your favourite book on the couch in your living room, while eagerly awaiting your boyfriend’s arrivel.

You live with Jouno two years ago, he work as a Hunting Dog. When they didn’t have to work outside of the HQ just had loose meetings with his coworkers, he sometimes brought you to their office. So you know them well, and Jouno knows, who would be your boyfriend if you didn’t choose him.

You put your book down when he came, went over to him, hugged him and gave a small kiss onto his lips. Jouno smiled into your kiss and stepped aside, then you saw he didn’t alone. There was Tecchou smiled with a bigger white box in his hands. You let them inside, carried the box from Tecchou, placed it on the dining table and greeted him a quick hug. You taken out one of the chairs, sat down and urged them to join you.

- How was your day boys? How did you invited Tecchou, babe? We don’t throw a large party. – you said while they took sit.

- He had nothing to do for the afternoon and wanted to wish you happy birthday. And eat from the cake what we bought to you. – your boyfriend said, placed three plates and forks in front of you, then began slicing the strawberry milk cream cake.

- Today Teruko freaked out to Tachihara, who let free a criminal at Fukuchi’s command. – Tecchou said and tasted the piece of cake what Jouno gave him – Mmm, do you have ketchup or –

- No! – you broke him off – So he wasn’t a criminal. – you eated your own piece.

- Nope. He was innocent. Just SoMeOne from us – the brown haired man looked scornfully to Jouno who sat next to him – accidentally arrested him, thought he was guilty.

Jouno eated his own slice, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

- Did you finish my darlings? I want to give my present to my love. – he asked. You both nod to him, didn’t have any idea what’s in his mind. – Then stand up please, both of you and come with me.

You two followed him in your bedroom, Jouno taken a seat in the armchair what was looking straight at the bed.

This armchair originally place was in the living room, until you didn’t know each others sexually fetishes well. Its his favourite place to sit, like a king, watching you sucking his dick or riding on it. Sometimes he commands you to play yourself while he sits there with his erecting cock, forcing you weep for his touch.

You uncomfortable stood in the front of him, Jouno simply gave you a sly smile and said.

- Tecchou, kiss Y/n. – you both completely shocked by this command.

- Are you crazy Jouno? He is your girl, I won’t touch her. – Jouno's smile more widened.

- Ohh, you will. Then you will have sex in the front of me, – he stood up from the armchair and unbottoned his shirt. His pale skin glowed as the dark red uniform contrasted on him. – but I’ve got a clause. You must describe what you do with the other. It’s like listening to an audio-narrative porn starring by you. Happy birthday my love, you can fuck with Tecchou, I know you glared him not once, I can sense you are already wet. And Tecchou, don’t be shy, I know you fantasied about Y/n.

You both reddened severely, you looked into Tecchous chestnut eyes and stepped closer to him. Jouno is your only one love, but he didn’t lie. You wanted to experience him to yourself, he has different body type and temperament than your boyfriend, it blows your imaginations.

- My values are being overruled by this. I won’t-

- Tecchou. I swear...just do it. My pants are getting tighter.

Tecchou caressed your cheek, closed his eyes and kissed you passionately. He played with your lips, then traced their outline with the tip of his tongue. Jouno loved to listen the slippery sound of your mouths, he took off his pants and boxer than sat back. From the corner of your eyes observed him, his hard and long dick, until you tasted Tecchou’s tongue in your mouth. You closed your eyes again, played with his dark brown hair. You swirled your tongue around his, felt a fruity little moan into your mouth. He separated from your slidy lips with a smacking sound. Jouno stroked his own cock and asked with a cocky smile on his face.

- How was it? – he asked curiously and tilted his head back.

- Your girlfriends has very soft lips and playful tongue...

- Tecchou is so discreet and sweet...

Both of you blushed as you talk about each other.

- Take off your clothes and go to bed. – Jouno commanded.

You became more impatient, could practically feel him between your legs, as you began unbotton his shirt and take off his pants. You saw the outline of his erection, under his boxer and wet spot of his precum. When you saw it that, he was ashamed, suddenly brushed his lips to yours and carefully pushed you in the bed. You enjoyed this game more and more.

- I took off Tecchou’s clothes, he is wearing only his dark grey boxer. – you gently ran your hand over his lenght, he hissed up on your touch – he is so hard.

- I’m hearing how it’s throbbing, make him feel good princess. But oral not allowed to either of you. Tecchou, first stretch her out a little, otherwise she will cry like a child. – Jouno suggested.

- But first I wanna see her naked.

Tecchou slowly took off all your clothes. He explored your full body with his eyes and with those delicate hands. Massaged your tender breasts, he gazed how your nipples lashed into hardeness under his touch. Slowly reached down to your pussy, he is already drunk of you, wanted to taste it but he can’t. Tecchou used his big fingers, pushed in two at once. You quietly moaned as you felt him inside of you.

- Your girlfriend is so beautiful Jouno. I envy you to have her. – he still stretched you while slowly pulled down his boxer, you finally saw his veined dick, it’s thicker than your boyfriend’s. – I wanna say thank you, the both of you, and wish you happy birthday Y/n.

He finished his sentence, dragged across the tip of his cock on your entrance, gently pushed in his full lenght, you felt his pelvis on your clit, as he lied on you. You moaned his name into his mouth as you kissed again, carefully scratched his muscular back. He moved slowly, you felt his hair tickling your cheek and neck in every thrust.

- She is so wet, so good for me. I won’t last long. It’s been a long time since I was with woman. – you grabbed his ass, your hands been itching to feel it for a very long time – hahh!

- Switch position. Let my princess ride on you. You will love it Tecchou san.

Jouno ordered. You looked at him, he rubbed his cock gently, his eyes are closed as always, his cheeks are red, and his hair stucked to his sweaty forehead. You watched how his muscles moved on his arm and his torso as he breathed. You quickly came back to reality when Tecchou uplifted you and lied down, put both of his hands behind his head. He helped you to get above him, you placed his cock to your needy cunt and he watched how it dissapeared in your body. You supported yourself with both of your hands on his abs and his muscular chest as you slowly circled your hips on him.

- You are so sexy, muscular man Tecchou, did you know? – you can’not handle your words, the man surprised under you.

You moved faster, slammed your ass down to him, your bouncing breasts are the most beautiful things what he ever saw. Jouno stood up and walked toward to you, stilled masturbating. You slowed down and became afraid maybe you said too much. Both of you catched your breathes, watched him coming closer.

- Keep going princess. I’m hearing Tecchou’s cock twitches inside you, make him cum.

You continued ride on his hard cock, moaned louder his name, Tecchou gasped under you. He grasped your thights, his eyes rolled back

- Y/n, I’m cumming! – he exploded.

You cummed at the same time with him, yoe leaned closer to his face, gave him a passionately kiss, played with his tasty tongue, your gummy walls throbbed around his cock, felt his cum fill you. And you felt something else. Jouno cummed over to your back, quiet moans left his mouth. You surprised on him, but loved his dirty present.

- Can I take a shower? – Tecchou asked.

You got off of him, your legs trembled because of the climax. Jouno nodded and showed him the bathroom. While the Tecchou showered, your boyfriend came back, sat down to the bed next to you with a towel and cleaned your back.

- I love you... – you leaned into his bare chest and murmured quietly.

- I know that well, my love.

You heard the water flow stopped, Jouno put on a robe and looked after Tecchou. You heard them talk, then the clothed Tecchou stood at the bedroom’s door, looked at your naked body one last time, and said goodbye. Jouno showed him out and went back to you threw the robe on the ground, you saw his cock hardened again, bobbing up against his V line.

- Lie on your stomach and lift up your pretty butt for me.

You swallowed hard and did what he said. Jouno kneeled behind you and pushed himself deeply in you, moved insanly fast. You screamed so loud like never before, you were sure Tecchou could hear you if he still near to the apartment. Jouno lied to your back, didn’t slow.

- Disgusting whore, your skin is sticky.

- Ahh – you gasped for air between every thrust – it... it’s – tried to answer.

- I know... shut up... – he put his two fingers in your mouth to make you silence. – I’ll make sure you won’t yearn for him ever again.

You felt his slamming thrusts of his climax and his warm cum leaking out from your wet folds. You shuddered uncontrollably when he bit your ear from behind.

- You are mine, only mine, understood? – he kissed your red cheeks – Happy birthday princess.

masterlist

[poppy-metal]

the ex!jordan blurb :((

ex!jordan who tries to move on but can’t

ex!jordan who’s so ruined they have to imagine you every time they fuck someone else to even be able to cum

ex!jordan who reads your favorite books and watched your favorite shows because it’s what they have left from you

ex!jordan who wants to call you every fucking night but never does.

ex! jordan who still buys things they think you’d like. who buys you a present at every break and at your birthday just in case you call or they see you somewhere

ex! jordan who is shitting their pants in anxiety when you call them because they’ve been waiting for this for so long

ex! jordan who fucks you in missionary, barely even thrusting, moreso just grinding against you, trying to touch you in any way they possibly can, have their skin against yours

ex! jordan who brought your favorite wine. who bought your favorite snack on their way over because they’re an aftercare GOD what if you need one after you guys are done? who brought you a gift because they want you to have it so bad

ex!jordan who you let give you gifts because you never realized they cared this much

ex! jordan who you keep inviting over after christmas break is over

ex! jordan who you’re really starting to question if you should keep as your ex

-🪻

u get it and it sucks because the reason you broke up in the first place is because of their obsessive dedication to rankings and them neglecting the relationship so realizing how deeply your absence has hurt them and how they still think of you in a million little ways makes you heart clench. its very easy to fall back into their arms because they're the only one who gets you, who knows you enough to know your favorite brand of christmas candy and the way you like your hot chocolate made.

[callsign-rogueone]

The answers just gave me more thoughts indeed

✨️my apologies✨️

But I just imagine Violet finding out they're married and just go " YOU'RE WHAT" and Bodhi being all smug like "yeah that's my wife right there" also Dain finding out? Why Dain👀

Also Bodhi- WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE- Durran died dead. I just imagine after the war him realizing they didn't have a proper wedding and going up to Darling with a ring proposing the right way and Darling being like " Bodhi we're already married" and him just answering "I know but I want you to have a proper wedding and I wanna see you in a white dress" and just AAAAAA I love them so much. Also after they go back to riorson house maybe Darling is not always in leathers and slowly bringing back her dresses and bodhi staring like 😍. They're just so UGH. Like they just give off so much mom and dad vibes that could also kick anyone's ass if provoked.

That's it, thank u🎀

I knew that would raise more questions hehe. here’s more answers, because I can’t keep a surprise to save my life (I buy someone a birthday present in advance and then I want to tell them asap because I’m so excited about it. the same goes for my writing… I get an idea and I need to share it immediately.)

Violet will be finding out in the next Bo and Darling chapter, whenever that will be. (I think I’m gonna go back and forth with their timeline a little bit? idk. It’s already all over the place, sooo…) Bo won’t be there at the time but if he was he’d definitely be smug about it. He’s a “wife guy” 100%. Just wait until their fifth anniversary (sometime in May of the Fourth Wing year)… that’s going to be such a fun, fluffy (and possibly sexy) chapter.

“Why Dain” is a fantastic question that I will not be answering at this time. but it involves Love, of course.

the “where tf is my wife” is going to be so. good. we finally get to see our sweet boy snap a little bit… and then take the most gentle care of his lady after. cuddles and just so much softness and love.

yes absolutely Bo does want a real wedding with a ring and vows and cake and fancy clothes!! he’s such a romantic. but darling is very practical and wants the war to be over / Tyrrendor to be freed first. but they’re definitely getting a real wedding in my Happily Ever After AU! and then three sweet little babies, because Bodhi can’t keep his hands off his woman 😅💗

and yes!!! some of the girls are definitely going to be getting back into their “civilian clothes” and any color other than black when they get to Riorson house, darling included. all the boys love the leather, but some of them are really gonna like the dresses. especially the more traditional of the bunch (Bodhi, Dain, and Sawyer 👀)

“they just give off so much mom and dad vibes that could also kick anyone's ass if provoked.” that’s the vibe I’m going for! she’s a mama bear to all the marked ones, and when she gets promoted to wingleader, heaven help anybody who messes with her cadets…

okay I have to cut myself off here again. and like, actually write these things instead of just yapping about them. sigh.

also… do you want to be “🎀 anon” or something like that? 👉👈 I love all of you guys and I want to build relationships with my frequent readers, even if it’s on anonymous 🥺

[dirty-urie]

Use My Body

5.6k Words

Warnings: Public sex

Author's Note: Hi all :) I'm posting this as a late birthday present for someone. But if it's bad then ChatGPT wrote the whole thing and not me.

“Brendon! I need your body!” You call from your home office.

“Coming, dear!” He shoots back. After about thirty seconds, he strolls in, looking sexy as always. He must have come from working out in the garage because he's shirtless, flushed, and a little sweaty. Not gross sweaty, just shiny and warm. “What do you need?”

You finish the sentence you're on and wrench your eyes away from your computer screen. You spin around in your chair to face him. “I need to see if a scene is possible. Can we block it together?”

His face lights up. “Hell yeah!” He gives you a hand and pulls you up out of your chair against his body.

You let him get one long kiss in before you let him down gently. “Don’t look so excited, baby. I’m on a deadline. Your pants have to stay on.” You sigh. You really wish he could fuck you right now.

Brendon pouts. “That’s no fun.”

You make a sympathetic noise. “There, there. You’ll survive. Now, uh, get on your knees and sit back on your heels,” you instruct, pointing to the bed.

Brendon scrambles onto the bed and assumes the correct position. It's purely luck that you work from the guest room and always have access to a bed for workshopping, but it's fucking brilliant and you don't know what you'd do without it. “Are you comfy? How are your knees?” you ask.

“Yeah, it feels fine.” He stretches back on his hands, arching his back. “I'm glad you force me to stay limber,” he laughs. “I'm in better shape than my twenties.”

You snatch your notepad off your desk, jotting that down. You toss your notepad onto the bed and straddle Brendon's lap, already questioning how realistic this position is. Your tits are almost right in his face for one, and you're not sure how much leeway either of you has for movement. “Hm. Do you think you could thrust into me like this?”

Brendon pushes up against your cunt through your jeans. You feel him throbbing. You’re caught by surprise, snapping you out of your concentration. You have to bite your lip to keep from snickering. He's too easy. “How are you already hard? I just climbed on top of you.”

He pecks your lips. “You know you get me absolutely raring to go, baby.” He winks. “but admittedly, you interrupted a proofreading session- I was already halfway there.”

You have to fight back a smile, but it creeps into your cheeks anyway. “So the new chapters I sent you are good?”

Brendon gives you a “no shit they're good” look. The man is going to give you an ego. “That scene right before Carter and her dude get engaged. That's based on our honeymoon, right?”

You’re thrilled he recognizes it. It's maybe your favorite sex scene you've written. You nod, swallowing hard. “Fuck. You were being a fucking tease all day in those black swim shorts that hugged your ass just right. And you kept checking me out in my bikini, and I could see your fucking cock swelling through them. But you made us wait until we're in bed together and sunkissed and couldn't keep our hands off each other.” Brendon nibbles your neck, briefly making your brain go totally fuzzy. “It was your first time without a condom, and not having that barrier between us felt so special.”

“I came so fast,” Brendon remembers fondly. “A couple minutes I think? Less than five definitely. You were pissed, baby. I think you contemplated divorce right then and there.”

You sigh in content. “Until I realized you fucking stayed hard. Which I swear is not possible, and if my editor read it in a draft, she'd say it's unrealistic and I need to fix it. But it happened, and your hot come was inside me while your cock was inside me, and you were moving your hips in perfect time with my heartbeat.” You grind on his erection absent-mindedly. “Any chance of you pulling that off again?”

He shakes his head. “Believe me, if I could, I would. Can you imagine the bragging rights?”

You roll your eyes. “Please don't brag about your cock.”

“You're the one writing about our sex life for thousands to read.” He smirks. “Speaking of, do I get a writing credit? Some of that dialogue sounded awfully familiar.”

“Not my fault that you represent the pinnacle of dirty talk, baby.”

“Yeah? You like it when I talk about how I can feel your pussy even through all this fabric, and it's driving me fucking crazy because I know you'd be hot and wet and pulsing around me right now?”

Fuck, you know where this is going, and it does not end with your manuscript being submitted on time. “Bren-” Your protestations are cut off by him bucking hard against you. He knows your body well, knows where to put pressure, so that your whole body lights up.

“You like hearing me talk about how as soon as I'm released from my husbandly duties, I'm going to jack off and look at pictures from our honeymoon and finish your fucking incredible sex scenes and come hard and loudly in our bed? And how I'm going to send you voice messages while I do it because I know that's the best way to cure your writer’s block?” His voice is low and husky. “But you know you won't need voice messages because you'll hear me across the house.” He slides his hands down your back to grab your ass, rocking you forward on his dick and then allowing you to slide back before he rocks you forward again. “You know the very thought of my girl’s fucking perfect pussy makes it impossible to stay quiet.”

You whimper. “Bren, baby, l have work to do.” He ignores you, increasing his tempo. He buries his face in your breasts, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. You're so glad you wore a low-cut top. “Fuck, fuck. Harder,” you plead.

He grabs your ass harder, practically slamming you forward. “Yeah, darling, I can thrust a little,” he pants, finally answering you. “But you'd have to bounce on my cock. You’d have to ride me like the perfect cockslut you are.”

God, he's a calculated bastard, waiting until you've found the perfect groove to fulfill what you called him in for. You throw your head back, giving him better access to your cleavage.

Brendon smiles before he slows to a stop. You continue to wiggle on him incessantly. “Baby, I gotta let you work. I'll stop being a tease.”

You disregard him, sliding along his length and moaning rhythmically. The seam of your pants presses against your clit perfectly.

“God, you're fuckin’ pretty,” Brendon marvels, squeezing your ass again. “But c’mon, I'm your biggest fan. I need more content. The way you incorporated the motif with the cigarettes? Fucking brilliant.”

You clench your teeth, arousal burning deep in your stomach.

“And the way you wrote their emotions was almost palpable. So good, honey.”

And you're coming. You’re nearly screaming as your body convulses in pleasure. “Bren, shit, coming,” you choke out. “Fuck! You're so good,” you shriek, rubbing hard and fast on him.

You slump forward bonelessly. Brendon eases you off his lap onto your back and lies down next to you. “Are you-” you inhale, struggling to catch your breath. “Are you going to apologize to me?” you demand.

Brendon rolls onto his side towards you, so you can see his face. He's smiling slightly in amusement. “For?”

The absolute nerve of this guy. The audacity. You want to fuck him so bad. “For disrupting my writing session!”

“Hmm, depends.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Are you going to apologize to me?”

You furrow your brows. “What did I do?”

His eyes snap toward his crotch. “Forcing me to change my pants.”

The crease between your brows only deepens in further confusion. “Did you…?” you trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. You don't remember feeling or hearing him come.

He laughs softly, pressing his pelvis forward. You can clearly feel his erection. Brendon recovers quickly, but not this quickly. Not outside of your honeymoon that is. “Darlin', you came. Hard. And messily.”

You blush. “I didn't think it would have soaked through to your pants.”

He takes your wrist and guides it to the front of his pants to feel. The soaked fabric clings to his cock. You scramble for the button of his pants, struggling to get them open with one hand. Brendon pulls you away- gently but firmly.

You whine wordlessly, begging him with your eyes.

“You have to finish writing,” he says, his voice a warning.

His subtle slip into dominance just makes you want him more. “And you have to get off,” you argue. You slip out of his grasp, but he catches you before you can go back to groping him.

You exhale. “Fine. I'll behave myself. Thanks for your help.”

“Any time.” He winks before he climbs out of bed and kisses your forehead. “Do your job, baby. I'm very proud of you.”

You melt. “Aww thanks.”

He gets about halfway through the door before your orgasm-induced haze clears enough to remember the other reason you called him. “Wait- Brendon,” you stop him.

Brendon turns around quickly, leaning against the door frame and facing you. “What's up?”

“Are you coming to my book signing tomorrow?” You try to stay neutral in your question, but you're secretly begging the universe he says yes. He'll make the day so much more fun.

“Uhh, let me check.” He pulls out his phone to look at his calendar. “Well, I can, but I probably shouldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I show up at too many, people are just going to go for a shot at meeting me. I don't want to take attention away from you,” he explains.

You scoff. His beautiful and talented and smart, but his ego is a little too much sometimes. “Honey, first of all, your fans are going to show up anyway. And second of all, is it to crazy to think that I might have a following of my own because of my best-selling erotic novels?” You're not offended, but you're slightly annoyed.

He raises his hands in surrender. “No, you're right, I was trying to be considerate and supportive, but I just made myself sound like an ass.”

“Well you are an ass,” you retort, but it's playful.

“You are what you eat?” Brendon offers unsure. He purses his lips and squints his eyes in consideration of his own joke.

You throw a pillow at him, laughing. “Whose ass are you eating? Because it's certainly not mine,” you say. “If I called you a pussy? Sure. A dick? Maybe. So many weed brownies that you can't move because the first one didn't kick in right away? Of course.”

He scoops the pillow up from the ground. “Point taken.”

“So you're coming to my signing?”

He blows you a kiss, pivoting to walk out of the room. “Of course. Anything from my gorgeous,” he lowers his voice, “bossy,” he raises it again, “perfect wife.”

“For that you’re driving!” you call after him.

“Bossy!” He retorts.

•••

You shut the book, and, to your relief, applause fills the packed library auditorium. Brendon shoots you a grin and thumbs up from the front row before clapping along with everyone else. He's wearing stereotypical “I'm a secret celebrity” attire: hoodie, sunglasses, hat. You're pretty sure he's just drawing more attention to himself, but you're so glad he's there regardless.

You feel your heart rate settle back to baseline now that the hard part is over. You were terribly nervous to read new material aloud for so many people, but it went extremely well in your opinion. The audience was on the edge of their seats- including the boyfriends who got dragged along against their will. You even noticed a few people who got so worked up they had to excuse themselves partway through. You'd call that a success.

The applause dies down after a few seconds, and you clap your hands together to transition to the next segment. “Okay! I think I have time for a few questions before the signing.” To your surprise, about twenty hands shoot into the air. Sweat beads on your temple, a combination of the stage lights, physical exertion, and nerves.

“I don't have time for everyone,” you say apologetically. “But I will try my best! You in the purple, you in the back, and then you with the hat.”

A young woman in a purple sweater stands up. “Um, I was just wondering if you write from experience?” Her voice shakes a little, and you feel for the girl.

Your eyes flit to Brendon, who’s grinning. “Well, I've never been kidnapped by the mafia, so no,” you joke, referencing your first and least favorite book. The audience laughs lightly with you. You got pressured into writing a mafia romance by your publisher at the time in exchange for an almost life-changing advance. You got your foot in the door, but you think mafia romances are horribly uninspired, unrealistic, and immature. You love your share of cliches, but you wish you hadn't agreed to sell your soul a little. Plus the royalties are abysmal.

The next person in your queue stands to speak, a larger woman in a floral dress. “Hey! I love your books.”

You smile warmly. “Thank you. I worked hard on them!”

“My question is where you find inspiration to write.”

Brendon mostly, you think to yourself. Sometimes you'll have such an incredible session with him that you have to put it to paper. But you can't very well say that. “Everywhere really,” you answer aloud. “Music, movies, other books. My favorite is people-watching at the beach. I've even had some dreams that heavily influenced my writing. And yes,” you make eye contact with the woman in purple, “real life experiences.” You know you're speaking fast, but you’re slightly rushing to get to more people. “Uh, let’s see, who’s next?”

Hat guy stands up, staring at his phone. You think he's an inconsiderate douche, but he redeems himself once he starts talking. He's clearly reading from the screen. “My girlfriend is in surgery, but she has asked me to tell you she's your biggest fan.” He talks with a bit of an accent, but you can't quite place it. He pauses to scrolls down. “And she would like to know how you write such realistic sex scenes.”

The crowd murmurs excitedly.

You find it fascinating that everyone is gathered to hear you read from an erotic novel, but the explicit mention of sex still feels rebellious and taboo. You don't look down at Brendon this time, but you feel him staring at you smugly. It's like all your fans conspired together to indirectly ask about your sex life with your husband. “Tell your girlfriend thank you, and I hope her surgery goes well,” you say to start. “I'm not sure if she's performing it or receiving it, but my best regards either way.”

You weren't quite making a joke, but everyone- hat guy included- laugh politely.

You walk across the stage. “Has she considered maybe you're just copying your moves from my books, and that's why my scenes are so evocative of her experience?” you ask cheekily.

The man doesn't get flustered. “Ah, you have figured out my secret.”

Another round of tittering and chattering rolls through the room.

You wait a beat for everyone to settle down. “Well, let's keep it between us then. Tell her that my sex scenes come from a lot of research,” you answer. “Most of it far less saucy than I'm sure you guys are imagining, unfortunately. Quite academic. But some is hands-on. Or mouth-on when needed.” You wink.

You’re glad when you get the signal to wrap it up because you fear you've already said too much. “Okay, that's my time, but I will be signing books in the lobby in just a few minutes.” You wave the audience away, smiling. “You guys have been lovely. Thank you for showing up.”

People file out of the auditorium, conversing with each other excitedly.

The auditorium has a door that connects to your small makeshift green room that you eagerly retreat to. You collapse on a folding chair and chug a bottle of water. Your job isn't physically taxing, but it's deceivingly exhausted to be on “on” mode for an extended period of time. It reminds you of your job as a cashier before you started writing full-time. The emotional labor was harder than the physical labor.

Brendon comes into the room after about five minutes. You assume he waited until the auditorium was clear and no one would notice him slip in with you. “That was fucking great,” he exclaims. “Can I get you anything right now?”

You shake your head before putting it down on the plastic table. “I don't have this signing in me,” you whine. You're going to go out there and give it your all, but you need to bitch and moan a bit first. The cool pressure from the table feels great against your forehead. You can feel a nasty tension headache forming.

“A’ight, here's the plan,” Brendon says, leaning in conspiratorially. “We'll have Marge run across the street to the Party City and buy a wig. You and I will swap clothes, and I'll do the signing. No one will know the difference.”

You exhale weakly. “I think your stubble would give it away. And your lack of tits.”

“Oh shit. I'm sorry, baby.”

You strain to pull your head up, stretching gently. “Nah, I'll be okay. Any chance you can hand me an Advil from my bag and buy me something cold and caffeinated from the vending machine?”

Brendon dons his sunglasses and pulls his hood up. He looks like Damian from Mean Girls. “On it.” He checks his watch. “Oh shit. Showtime in two. I'll hurry.”

You blow him a kiss.

•••

“Listen up, here are the rules,” your hired security guard barks at the line of guests snaking their way through the stacks “No cutting, no pushing, no holding up the line, or you will be removed from the premises and you may risk termination of your library privileges.” You and Brendon fight back laughter. This man means business. You appreciate it, but the situation is really not as serious as the ex-marine is making it out to be. “And Mr. Urie is not here to sign anything or take pictures with you, so do not ask.”

Brendon grins. “Pretend I'm not even here. I'm just keeping Y/N company,” he tells the line before burying his face back in your book.

You had to beg the director of library events to allow Brendon to sit next to you at the table. Nobody explicitly said it, but you could tell managing and protecting a “real” celebrity was a bit above everyone’s paygrade. Fortunately, a generous anonymous philanthropist donated a few thousand with explicit instructions to dedicate ninety percent to the youth music program, and the rest to the library special event budget. What a felicitous coincidence.

Once the housekeeping is in order, the first person in line scrambles up to you. She's a girl you'd definitely consider too young for your books- maybe sixteen. But you were sneaking LiveJournal smut on the family computer at sixteen, so you really can't judge. Her mom lingers awkwardly behind her, clearly trying to give the girl space without leaving her alone completely.

She fidgets anxiously. You have to hold your hands out to prompt her to hand you her book. She silently thrusts the hardcover novel into your hands, and the familiar weight of it is comforting. “Can I make it out to someone?” you ask patiently. You know you have a whole line of people waiting, but you try to make each interaction meaningful and intentional with each person. You learned that from Brendon. He told you that you won't remember meeting every fan, but every fan will remember meeting you. It's a lot of pressure to make a good impression with everyone, but it's satisfying too that you're touching so many lives.

“Oh um, Alexandra, if you don't mind- or Alex is shorter if that's easier,” the girl sputters out. “Please.”

“Alexandra is a beautiful name,” you say, jotting down: “Don't make yourself smaller for anyone else, Alexandra. - Y/N Y/L/N :)”. You shut the book and hand it back to her. You still struggle with sincerity with fans, but you hope she appreciates the message.

“Thank you so much,” she says appreciatively. She finally looks at Brendon, who she has been staunchly avoiding the gaze of. “I love you guys.”

“Thank you for coming!” you smile.

"Lovely to meet you!" Brendon chimes. Alexandra looks like she might drop dead right in front of you from Brendon's acknowledgement.

As soon as Alex leaves, the next person replaces her, and you settle into a comfortable routine. Almost everyone is extremely polite and respectful, which you hope is a positive reflection of your fanbase and not just intimidation from your security guard. You'll take it either way though.

Brendon, of course, is charming and gracious for everyone that comes up and talks to him. He stays true to his boundaries or not signing or allowing pictures, but he happily shakes hands and answers the odd music question or chats about video games while you write. You're secretly delighted that everyone in line seems to primarily be there for you with Brendon as a fun bonus for the Panic! fans. Even the people starstruck by Brendon talk about your books with enough intimate knowledge that you believe they're actual fans.

You do have the occasional sour experience. A few obvious resellers, a couple people ranting about the wait, maybe a dozen with noticeably poor hygiene. But the bad apples don't spoil the bunch, and you're generally enjoying yourself.

One thing that starts to distract you is Brendon enjoying himself too. To pass the time, he has your book open to skim when people aren't chatting with him. The deluge of sex scenes are starting to get to him. The signs are almost imperceptible, but you know him well. His breathing is quick and sharp and his face is slightly flushed. He keeps fidgeting in his seat: crossing and uncrossing his legs, tapping the table restlessly, and biting at his cheeks and lips.

You'd be able to ignore it, but you've been craving him since last night when he left before you could play with him. He has the perfect cock. The skin is soft and smooth and warm over a firm, pulsing shaft. He's big enough that you can comfortably take him in your hand and mouth while still being able to fill and stretch you, hitting all the right spots.

You know you have a floating fifteen minute break within your two hour signing window; although, you had planned to forgo it in favor of getting through as many people as possible. Security cuts off the line, but there's always a few hopeful stragglers in case you have an extra minute, and you love the satisfaction of helping them out. But you don't owe them anything, so now you're wondering if you can yank Brendon into an empty study room to pay him back the orgasm you owe him. You don't love to give blowjobs, but do you love to watch him as you suck him off. And you know he'd come fast enough. “Mrs. Y/L/N?” Or maybe you can lay back on a table and let him fuck your pussy until his knees are too weak to keep standing. “Excuse me?” The next person at the table finally manages to jerk you out of your concentration.

She smiles awkwardly without teeth. “I'm sorry- you seemed preoccupied, but I didn't want to hold up the line.” You shake your head to clear it, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Oh sorry, I get lost in my own head sometimes,” you apologize breathlessly. You squeeze the Sharpie.

You distractedly get through the next dozen or so people before Brendon finally sets you over the edge. He angles the book towards you and points to a line.

Damon’s mouth waters at the sight of Safa’s shiny, wet cunt. She fingers the button on the stopwatch with a smirk. “Oral for an entire hour, really?” she asks incredulously. She was amused by the idea originally, but she didn't think he would actually be able to go through with it. “Your jaw will get sore.” In truth, she doubts her own ability to stave off an orgasm more than Damon’s ability to eat her out for that long.

“Having doubts?” Damon taunts. “Because I don't have to lick this perfect pussy. We can watch a movie instead. I don't mind. I have nothing to prove.” He's bluffing slightly. He'll be crushed if he doesn't get his mouth on her.

He leans in, covering his mouth. “I'd love to do that to you, baby. Eating your pussy for a full hour? That's a fucking dream. And I'd edge myself the whole time. I’d come so hard inside you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” you finally work up the courage to ask, internally pleading that no one nearby can hear you.

He hesitates. “Baby I- I really shouldn't stand up right now,” he explains regretfully.

You clench your teeth. Hard. You slip your hand under the table, grateful for the table cloth hiding your activity. You place your non-dominant hand firmly on Brendon's thigh, your pinky just barely grazing his cock. Brendon turns to you with wide eyes. He grabs your wrist under the table, and you almost deflate. He's right, you shouldn't touch his cock in front of all these people. But, fuck, you're aching to feel his arousal.

However, to your surprise, he doesn’t move your hand away- instead, he guides it right between his legs. You squeeze him, giving him one last warning before you start touching him. He doesn't even flinch, just focuses hard on his book. You start exploring his body eagerly through his pants to warm him up. Though, from the obvious erection you can feel through his jeans, he doesn't need much preparation.

You graze along the length of his cock before your find the swell of his balls and rub them to really give him a tease. You manage to multitask well, continuing to sign and chat as your fingers dance around the sensitive areas of Brendon's inner thighs and crotch. But Brendon gets antsy. You can feel him staring at you, willing you to give him more.

You give in rather easily, anxious to feel him directly. You unbutton his pants and then cough loudly to cover the sound of his zipper opening. The people in front ask if you’re alright, but you wave them off with your free hand and then take a swig of your Dr. Pepper, relishing in the tension of making him wait another second. You regrettably take your hand off him for a moment to slip it between your own thighs. You slide your underwear to the side under your dress and coat your palm in your slickness. The feeling of your hand against your hypersensitive cunt is heavenly, and you struggle to pull yourself away. But the moments between undoing his pants and snaking your hand into his briefs crawl by, heavy with possibility. Brendon closes his eyes, his whole face clenched in concentration. He looks visibly aroused in front of dozens of people, and you don't even care.

You finally take pity on the man, fearing audible noises of frustration if you tease him any longer. You slip your hand inside his underwear, pleased to feel him fully erect. “Baby, is that-” he hisses, referencing the wetness on your hand. You don't answer. He already knows.

You stroke him inside his pants at first, knowing you shouldn't take the risk of fully exposing him. Brendon exhales in satisfaction, but you don't have as much freedom to move as you'd like, and you imagine he feels uncomfortable trapped inside his restrictive jeans. You snake his cock out of his pants and grasp it hard. When you first became intimate with Brendon, you were far too timid. Now you know he likes you to be firm and slightly aggressive when playing with his cock.

You keep your thumb on his glans and then stroke him hard and fast. “Fuck!” Brendon exclaims, and you gasp, fearing that he's blown it for you two. He manages to recover though. He smacks the side of his neck and rubs it. “Ah, damn, neck cramp,” he explains to the people looking with concern. “Excuse my language.”

It tests the very limits of your coordination to rub circles on his sensitive head, stroke him up and down, and continue to sign. You almost misspell your own name at one point. Still- The adrenaline from your deviance makes this ten times hotter. You're acutely aware of everything happening around you, making the sensations even more intense. Your clit hums demandingly. Each of Brendon's breaths sound like moans. You're convinced someone will catch you. You dare them to catch you. That's one thing you miss about touring with Brendon- the clandestine trysts in front of band mates and road crew. You fucking love an audience. Love the thrill of sneaking around.

You sense Brendon’s having a similar experience. He's leaking precum like crazy, allowing you to stroke him even more easily. And his eyes are getting more glassy and unfocused as you continue to work. You hope he knows this is just the appetizer. When you get home, you are fully taking advantage of having your mouth and other hand at your disposal.

Even without being able to verbally communicate, you know he's close when he turns to you with frenzied, panicked eyes and bucks uncontrollably into your hand.

You don't know what to do. Your emergency stash of tissues in your backpack has been depleted by a particularly nasty allergy season, but you can't let him get come on his clothes or the table. And leaving him hanging is not an option. Brendon needs release.

You eye the line. It's down to about fifteen people. You don't think he can hold off long enough for them to be done, and, even then, you'd barely have any privacy.

So you take a risk. You allow your trusty Sharpie to slip through your fingers onto the floor under your table. “Sorry!” You say to the man you're signing for. “All this writing is making my hand cramp. I'm ready to finish! Let me just grab it.”

You make eye contact with Brendon, and he nods ever-so-slightly. You slip onto the ground onto your knees.

“Oh I can help,” the man offers, lunging forward to kneel with you.

You glance at your security guard, and he thankfully takes the cue, standing in front of the table and the line. “Stay away from Mrs. Y/L/N,” he demands. “She will finish the signings in a moment.

You crawl under the table, easily sliding your mouth on Brendon’s cock even in the darkness. You fondle his balls, but it's unnecessary. He's coming before you've even fully closed your lips around his head. Come drips down your chin as hot spurts of it shoot into your mouth. He grabs your hair instinctively, twitching violently in your mouth. For a split second, you fear he may never stop coming and you'll be trapped under this folding table and polyester tablecloth forever. He groans- clearly aroused, and you hold your breath again. “C'mon, you're taking forever with that pen,” is his cover this time. You don't think anyone’s buying it.

He finally stops coming, and you scramble to find the actual marker. “Sorry, I can't find it in the dark.” You emerge from the table, trying to surreptitiously wipe your mouth. Brendon slumps against you. You two must look utterly fucked. “Does anyone have a pen?”

People scramble to look through their pockets and bags to no avail. You're at the end of your time anyway. You smile apologetically, handing out pre-signed copies. “I'm sorry they're not personalized, but you guys take these signed copies and keep your other copy to give to a friend. Thank you all so much for coming out!”

•••

“Am I in trouble?” you ask, sliding into the passenger seat.

Brendon leans over and kisses your neck. You shiver. “Fuck no. I haven't come that fucking hard in months. And from a handjob?” He bites your earlobe. “God, those people were looking at you- were looking at me all day. Thinking about us together. And then we fucking gave them a show, didn't we?”

You laugh. “I'm glad we didn't get arrested.”

“We wouldn't have gotten arrested. I'm famous,” Brendon says. He licks his way down to your cleavage.

You squeal. “What has gotten into you?”

He pulls away. His pupils are massive. “I just fucking love you, and I'm so proud of you, and I love that you're mine.”

You stretch to kiss his cheek. “Aw, baby. Was it hard to share me with all my adoring fans?”

He shakes his head. “Love your fans. Just love that I get to take you home with me.”

“Yeah? Gonna ‘help me write’ when we get home?”

He nods eagerly. “But I may need a banana and a Gatorade first. I get the sense you're going to make me work hard.”

You laugh. “I can make that happen. Unless you wanna check for run-on sentences. You don't need to hydrate for that.”

He gives you an incredulous look. “No fucking way, pretty girl. Bend me, fuck me, tie me up however you want. I'm yours.”

You grin. “God, this sequel is going to be good.”

[jigglypuff1994]

Marinette sat at her desk, filing through her emails. Today had been surprisingly quiet, considering tonight was the night for the annual Gabriel ball. The calm after the storm of pure chaos from the past couple weeks. 

Marinette was ecstatic for tonight! It was Alya's birthday, and Alya loved celebrating her birthday - it was practically a holiday! Marinette had been looking forward to going for months. She usually helped Nino plan it, but wasn’t able to this time around, promising that next year would be different. 

Marinette's mom and dad called her to remind her to pick up the birthday cake for tonight. 

Both of them. 

Separately called her. 

Then called her once again together.

A grand total of three reminders to pick up the cake tonight.

In less than four hours. 

Marinette knew that she was forgetful, but three times in one day ? They need to give her some kind of credit! 

Nathalie opened the glass door and walked into the assistants’ office, coughing into her handkerchief. She dropped into her chair, grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. Her eyebrows knitted together as her nose produced a loud trumpet noise. Her reddened nose, drooping eyelids and flushed cheeks made her look exhausted beyond measure. No amount of high-end make-up would cover up her disheveled appearance.  

Marinette almost felt bad for Nathalie's poor state. Almost. Nathalie was still just as insufferable as ever, so Marinette couldn't completely cross over to the dark side. Trying to make some kind of conversation, Marinette asked, "Are you going to be okay for the ball tonight? You must be excited." She looked over at Nathalie with a comforting smile. 

Nathalie let out a sickly moan and placed her head in her hands. She mumbled something into her palms before sniffling and lifting her head to prop her chin up. Her puffy eyes met Marinette's concerned ones. She spoke with a hoarse voice, "I thought I would be okay by now. I didn't imagine three whole days of this awful cold." She quickly grabbed her handkerchief and went into a rough coughing fit. 

Oh, that does not sound good. 

Wiping her mouth, Nathalie grimaced at the smeared lipstick stains on the white cloth and groaned. "After you finish up whatever it is you're doing, you can go. Everyone's going to be leaving early for the event, so there's nothing to do here anyways." She waved the handkerchief like a white flag, protesting her defeat against her illness. 

Marinette perked up at this news. "Really?" She excitedly asked, typing out the last few words of her email and sending it off. She quickly shut down her computer and started to pack away her things. "That's awesome! Thanks, Nathalie! I need to swing by my parents to grab a cake for my friend's birthday and-" She glanced over at Nathalie who was slumped over on her desk with her head in the crook of her elbow. "-and I will be going now." 

Marinette had so much to plan for! She had to swing by the bakery, pick up Alya's present, get ready for Alya's birthday celebration, try on her finished dress she made and - 

Her cell phone went off in her purse.

And someone was calling her?

As she stepped outside the Gabriel lobby into the Parisian Summer air, she furrowed her brow as she glanced at the caller. 

GABRIEL 

She answered, her voice wavering between annoyed and curious, "Hello?" 

"Marinette. Come back upstairs." Gabriel clipped, clicking the line dead and leaving Marinette to wonder what the fuck is going on. 

Turning around, she went back toward the elevators. Thankfully, she was alone. She opened her purse and looked down at Tikki with a pout. "I really wanted to leave. I hope it's something quick. Maybe he has a last-minute package for me to drop off."

Tikki shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Gabriel seems to have an unpredictable streak."

"Yeah, no kidding." Marinette sighed, longing to be on her way home right now. 

Marinette walked back into the assistant office area where Nathalie was standing in front of Gabriel’s desk, awaiting whatever fate Gabriel would no doubt cast upon them. Marinette briskly walked over, reporting for duty. 

She met Nathalie’s confused look with her own. It seemed neither of them knew why Gabriel summoned them. 

Gabriel quickly glanced between the two women. His posture was stiff, and hands folded together, laying in his lap. "Before the ball tonight, I want to make something clear."

Marinette's eyebrow quirked at this. Why would she need to be here for something regarding tonight's event? It's not like she's going. She suppressed an eyeroll. Gabriel was such a drama queen. 

"I need you both at your best tonight. Both of you should be well prepared before we go."

Both girls paled at this, protesting,

"Second assistants don't go to the ball!"

"I have other plans tonight!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and swiveled his chair to the right, facing Marinette head on. His eyes were forceful and narrowed as he stated firmly, "Cancel them."

Marinette's eyes widened. She could feel her friendship slipping through her fingers as she stared horrified at her boss' unwavering gaze. 

No. No. No. No. No.  This cannot be happening!

----------Continue on Link below-----------

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Batfamily Secret Santa

With the holidays coming up here's my headcanon for what each of the batfamily members would get each other if they were doing a secret Santa. (And yes, I know Bruce is canonically Jewish, but I believe either Tim or Dick are some denomination of Christian so I'd imagine they have a mixed holiday celebration at the manor)

Bruce (got Stephanie)

Ok so Bruce is super generous on a good day and I can't imagine Steph wouldn't be dropping hints since Thanksgiving, so he'd probably give her everything she asked for plus a new movie Wayne manor doesn't have, so after the celebration they could watch it together as a one-on-one bonding thing since he's pretty big on quality time in some versions.

Dick (got Bruce)

Bruce really doesn't expect anything for the holidays which is perfect because I have this headcanon that Dick is actually really bad with giving gifts. Someone bullied your little sister? Not on his watch. Life advice? He'll pull from his past experiences to tell you what not to do. Emotional support? Bro he's there. But birthday/anniversary/holiday gifts? Expect a mug with Snoopy's face because you both watched Charlie Brown together once. In July. He's just that kind of gift giver. So I'm thinking Dick would get Bruce a dinosaur themed 1,000 piece puzzle because Bruce likes dinosaurs and he likes puzzles so boom! Match made in heaven, ya boi is a genius. 😎

Barbara (got Jason)

Babs is a pretty practical person so her secret Santa to Jason probably consisted of a gift bag with manly smelling body wash, a gift card to Barnes & Noble, and a CD mixtape of Jason's Spotify favorites so he can pop it into a car and listen to it during long car rides.

Duke (got Damian)

So Duke is a pretty creative person when he's passionate about a project and his ideas are definitely one of a kind, but I think for some time he would really struggle with coming up with a secret Santa for Damian because he isn't all that close with Robin. He knew Damian appreciated weapons but he's also the type of person to not want Damian to think that weapons are all he is by getting him one. Presents for Damian's pets are off the table since Damian spoils them on every day of the year, so Duke would probably gift Damian something for the child he is, since Damian never had a childhood. Maybe a telescope so Damian could look at the stars with his family on clear nights. Just like what Duke's mom gave him as a boy for the holidays one year.

Cass (got Dick)

Cass didn't receive material gifts for most of her life so she probably enlisted Alfred's help. Given that the butler knows Dick pretty well, they decided to give him a gift basket with blue ribbon that had a T-shirt of his favorite band, some flash fuzzy socks (Wally would approve), and his favorite holiday candy. Dick is really more of a quality time kind of person if you want to make him to feel special, so it didn't need to be elaborate anyway.

Jason (got Cass)

I don't care how much people try to make Jason into a sexist, ignorant-to-the-fine-arts kind of person. Jason doesn't give a fuck about gender stereotypes and he loves learning, especially about classical things like literature or fine arts. For his secret Santa to Cass he got them both tickets for a weekend trip to Russia to see a ballet in person in one of the grandest cities in Russia. Cass has obviously been to many places across the world, but it was always for a mission and nothing more. For the holidays, Jason gifted her two days where they could travel and explore the culture, living like locals or being those stereotypical tourists just for shits and giggles. Just a few days without work to relax and live happy lives as regular people. When Cass got her gift Jason pulled her aside afterwards to explain it, so she wouldn't cry in front of everyone. And she did cry. Just a little. So did Jason.

Tim (got Duke)

Tim wouldn't think too hard about Duke's gift since he knows the people Duke hangs out with. Or could find them. Getting Duke a gift was as simple as casually running into Duke's friends and asking them about what Duke likes. Not that he or Duke's friends ever mentioned this to Signal, so when he opened his secret Santa and found some hyper-specific things amongst some more generic gifts, he began to wonder just how much Tim knew about his life.

Stephanie (got Babs)

Steph is absolutely the type of person to get someone for Christmas something they want themselves. So a lot of the gifts Bruce gave her look similar to what Babs got from Steph. Not that she means anything by it, but in her mind if it's worth wanting, someone else close to her probably wants it too. And Babs doesn't mind. She already bought herself a new desk light after the old one got knocked down one too many times, so it doesn't matter if she has a cute keychain to go on it.

Damian (got Tim)

Regardless of his age I think a younger sibling will always be a younger sibling. Damian would probably give Tim a large fancy gift bag filled with tissue paper... and nothing else. He'd do it just to see Tim's reaction to rifling through the bag for several moments to come up empty. Then, when Tim admits defeat, Damian would hand over a gift he asked Jon to pick up for Connor, nicely wrapped with Tim's forged signature and everything. He wasn't about to get Tim a gift but it's okay because he knew Tim would've somehow forgotten to get his boyfriend a holiday gift anyway. (And he did)

[catchyhuh]

candles. just. candles

don’t you love the unimportant questions i ask myself at 2 am about jigen daisuke. how DOES he feel about wax melts vs traditional wick candles. how DOES he feel. i will be getting more indepth about this than anyone has a right to

lupin:

oh baby

the only guy who unironically would love a candle as a present. you picked out a smell?? you picked out a smell you thought he would like and slash or made you think of him? a scent? something so difficult to pinpoint and describe? wait you paid how much for this? i don’t. well. i dunno if it’s… thirty dollars touching but it IS TOUCHING!

candles in ALL shapes and sizes. who give a shit. he’s half french and frenchies love that faux romantic shit like nobody else. fujiko enters the building, smells Wild Rose & Suede and just walks right back outside with no change in facial expression

when he was a kid he really really liked wax melts because it was fun to watch them slowly . melt. as wax melts do BUT he saw the candle wax stamp shit and suddenly he’s all about calling cards. suddenly grandpa doesn’t need to teach him shit about the importance and fun of calling cards he’s just ALL about calling cards and still is to THIS DAY

jigen:

well. this may shock you. but jigen is picky.

really his preference would be no candles i imagine but his sense of smell is already kinda busted anyhow so if you lit one two rooms over. he probably wouldnt notice! but if he IS noticing it’s best to go with some basic, almost unnoticeable thing. like. linen. or whatever (although being fair i do love a good linen)

the only candles he really has an opinion on are birthday candles. gotta have birthday candles. just for the comedy of sticking a candle in someone’s egg and ham biscuit at 6:14 in the morning 

but i have an answer for that initial question: wick truther. no matter how many times he hasn’t been paying full attention and has accidentally singed himself with the lighter. can’t spell wick without w

fujiko:

iiiii take it back fujiko could also be charmed by a candle gift. provided the gift giver a. also included a tiffany hairband or something or b. was somebody actually sincere that she really does like to some extent. who wasn’t rich. and couldn’t afford the tiffany hairband to go with the candle

like i said with perfumes and even her hair in canon and a million other things she doesn’t let herself get locked on the same thing for very long, but i can see her having one specific scent she really enjoys and maybe getting two or three. i almost typed buying. can you imagine. i almost typed fucking “fujiko mine might BUY some candles.” i really am tired

don’t underestimate the power of a good candle that shit can help you sleep for a week, calm you down from the worst day of your life, just make you appreciate the world for 5 minutes or even keep you uncomfortably awake for as long as you need. scent psychology. she looked into it when making those sleeping gas perfume bottles

probably saving one really nice candle for some event on the horizon like “we got the thing!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” or “we didn’t die!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” 

goemon:

okay goemon is like. whatever about candles themselves. they smell nice. that’s kind of the opinion most people have because who… has an opinion on candles? but you know what he REALLY has an opinion on. candle HOLDERS.

he sees those little silhouettes carved out of the world’s cheapest nonflammable materials with the big dish at the bottom to catch excess wax and he’s like what an ART FORM. what an underappreciated necessity and ART FORM

so he gets a bit internally disappointed when lupin brings home some shit in glass. which is 70% of the market as of 1995. sorry goemon

also really enjoys those candles with the hollowed out center so they light up the non-melting wax on the outside. if anybody knows what those are. i saw them at a craft fair once! they had a zelda one.

just generally assume any novelty candle is his shit. i mean it’s… carving. you know he loves that stuff. and destroying the work by letting it melt is probably some metaphor he’d love and brood over for like an hour too it’s GREAT for him!

zenigata:

… candles? like. vague gesture here. candles? who has an opinion on candles? why would anybody care that much about… candles?? (quote from a grown man who gets giggly when he sees a teeny tiny bland vanilla scented candle in a hotel room)

zenigata has strong opinions on fucking cherry tomatoes vs sliced tomatoes in his salad with a trillion other ingredients in it. of COURSE he has some indecipherable passion about some nothing shit like candles

very much a candle warmer dude. sometimes the wick burns out before the candle is finished and now you’ve got a busted candle! for that matter the flame could be a FIRE HAZARD, if you aren’t paying attention. plus it keeps all the heat condensed into one spot (philosophy of a grown man who certainly didn’t get burnt six times trying to light the same candle one time)

unfortunately the longer i think about it the more everything about a candle seems like a bad idea for him. wax gets everywhere, the fire, the glass, smells really good but he immediately gets used to the smell and forgets to turn it off later, REALLY, THIS ISN’T A GOOD THING FOR HIM!

[toomuchracket]

Happy Belated Birthday! I hope you had the best day and enjoyed yourself.

I imagine big beefy Ross BF trying to surprise you for your bday but he’s so tall and loud you just hear him coming up the stairs or think someone has just broken in

thank you lovely!! this is a very sweet thought - definitely imagining the two of you all upset in the weeks leading up to your birthday because tour ends the day before and the boys are flying home on your birthday, so ross will miss most of it by the time he gets back. you're not too fussed, but ross LOVES celebrating your birthday and turning it into a whole thing, so he's really devastated about the idea of missing the majority of the day. cut to about 7am on your actual birthday, when you're awoken by a clatter downstairs - which terrifies you, because you're home alone and the dog is lying at the foot of the bed - and a familiar voice going "oh, for fuck's sake", like at a volume meant to be quiet but still loud in such an empty, soundless house. you and the dog both perk up at the sound, your heart swelling (metaphorically) and your eyes beginning to tear up as you hear ross begin to pad up the stairs - the dog runs out happily as he reaches the landing, and you can hear ross go "shhh, hi, yes, i'm happy to see you too mate! some bloody guard dog you are, though, not leaving the bedroom until i'm almost at it. i bet you've been spoiled while i was gone, yeah, gotten lazy? i'll be having words with your mother about that once she wakes up". and you giggle from the bed, which makes the dog run back in and jump up next to you; ross follows, pausing in the doorway to smile at you, holding a bouquet of flowers, and he's like "yep, just as i suspected, sleeping in the bed. spoiled". you're like "well i had to have some company when you were away. also - mother? the dog's now our baby?", and ross laughs and says "until you let me give you an actual one, yeah. happy birthday, by the way, my love" before he comes over and lays the flowers on the bedside table and kisses you. and you drag ross on top of you like the best weighted blanket ever and say "you know, the way you phrased that made it seem like you knocking me up was my birthday present", and he laughs and says "well, to be fair, birthday sex was on the agenda for today regardless of what time i got back at, sooooooo", and you giggle before saying "wait - how are you back so early? i thought it was the early evening you'd be getting home". and ross kisses your nose and says "went straight to the airport after the show yesterday. half my shit is still with the boys - adam says he'll pop round with it tomorrow. but there was no way i was missing spending your entire birthday with you, love, not a chance" - you tear up a little bit again, and kiss your boyfriend before the two of you exchange i love you's. and then ross yawns slightly, and you're like "come on, get in", and he wiggles his eyebrows like "cashing in birthday sex already? i like it", and you roll your eyes like "no, dafty, a nap - you're exhausted and i was planning to sleep for another three hours". and ross laughs and moves off you to pick the dog up and put them in their dog bed before he climbs in beside you to spoon, snuggling in sweetly - that is, before he says "i mean really i could just slip it in for one round now-" and you're like "SLEEP i promise we can have sex later" lol. but you nap for a bit, comfy in your boyfriend's big arms once again, before spending a lovely birthday with him <3

[icemankazansky]

The results of my "Why does Maverick wear his watch like that?" poll are in, and you guys are the wrist worst. (Thanks for that, autocorrect.)

The #1 response with 32% of the votes was, like what? which is fair. (And I'm about to explain.) The #2 response was, Carly, I'm starting to think you don't know how to wear a watch, which is RUDE (but possibly not wrong. We're going to talking about that, too.) The #3 (and only HELPFUL) answer is a tie between, he is smol and, it's not his watch (keepsake).

So, here's what I'm talking about. I noticed this when I was looking at reference photos for a very long time while drawing the serval Iceman comic.

Maverick wears his watch very low on his arm:

There are often reasons for people habitually wearing a common accessory in a way that deviates from the norm. (My personal fave is wearing the watch upside down with the face against the veins in your wrist. Snipers and special ops wear them this way so light doesn't reflect off the watch face and give away their position, and so they don't have to turn their wrist while holding a gun to check the time.) So I wondered about that. I also wasn't 100% sure about whether there were rules about how to wear your watch.

It turns out there are.

According to people to whom fashion and/or etiquette (I guess??) are very important, your watch face should sit on the ulna, beneath the little bones in the wrist. (I highlighted where the ulna begins (teal), and then kind of did a lateral cross (yellow) to show where the watch would sit.)

This seems to be a lot more of a Thing for men, and you can see in men's watch ads (and on David Beckham, wearing the watch he models but in a better picture than I could find of one of his ads) that they tend to stick to the rule. (Leo's might be a little high, actually.)

Women's watch ads (top row) tend to also stick to this placement, but in fashion editorials (bottom row), they're often worn much lower.

(Like a tennis bracelet, which hangs looser on the arm, for those of you who wondered why I included that option in the poll, and those of you who are Young and had no idea what a tennis bracelet even is.)

@academicgangster posited that Maverick's choice—and I imagine that's all it is, personal choice—is because it's a large watch for him (because he likes it that way, or because he is smol, or because it's a keepsake given to him by someone larger), and because it's the sexy way to wear it. Totally fair!

But as I was spending a stupid amount of time putting this post together, I wondered something else: How does Ice wear his watch?

Iceman Kazansky, what the fuck.

This is a disaster. In the first three frames (Top left and right, bottom left), Ice's watch is positioned correctly and looks like it fits him properly.

But then there's the last frame. WHAT IS THAT?! That watch is hanging down around his wrist like a tennis bracelet. I was under the impression that your watch fit you, Ice! What am I looking at here?!

As for whether I know how to wear a watch: I don't wear a watch. I've tried it in the past, but I've never really found one I liked keeping up with, largely because I don't care to spend real money on a wristwatch. It's not worth more than, like, $19.99 to me, so. I do wear bracelets. I bought these cuffs as my birthday present to me, and I wear them almost every day.

If they were a men's wristwatch, they'd be a little high.

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

The other BTS members were really homophobic to Jimin a lot…

I have no words. Imagine how Jimin must’ve felt. I know they grew out of this (Although someone claimed V said something homophobic behind the scene at an Award show about an idol who isn’t out) but this is still very fucked up and nobody can tell me this behaviour plus the comments about his appearence and weight didn’t affect Jimin maybe even more than antis’s comments would

https://x.com/aceduojkjm/status/1690984562816405504?s=46

I take into consideration that they were boys, in a very patriarchal society like Korea is. Those type of comments and "jokes" must've been ingrained in them and they probably didn't even realize it was wrong to say stuff like that.

However, finding reasons and understanding their poor behavior, their lack of empathy, lack of tact and their machismo has nothing to do with how that might've affected Jimin. More than one thing can be true; yes, they were being ignorant and mean on purpose. Maybe they didn't understand the implications, but whether they understood it or not doesn't determinate how Jimin might've felt about it.

I also think it could've taken a toll on his mental health and self confidence (even if he has plenty of that right now), more than anything when you factor in the way all of that was said in public. It's one thing to have your family members or friends pulling your hair in private, but it's a different thing to stand in front of millions and try to make you feel ashamed of something.

I'm a really strong person, I've always been so. One time when I was 15 I was invited to a "quinceañera" (latam girls we celebrate out 15 years old with a big party), but my girlfriend hadn't been invited. I tried getting in touch with the birthday girl and asked her if I could take my "friend" with me and it was all ok. My mom got angry when she found out I had invited my (girl)friend. Right before the party we argued and she screamed at me "what are you now, a lesbian?! The last thing I need is for you to be a lesbian" (I had never told her we were dating but she always suspected) And I started crying so much. I've never had any issues with my sexuality or anything, but being put on the spot like that hurt and it was embarrassing.

A lot of times I think of those BTS moments like that, but a thousand times worse because of the cameras. Even if it didn't hurt his feelings, it had to be embarrassing at least. But Jimin has always handled everything so well and has never shown even the slightest hint of shame or anything. In fact, when they talk about him being the one to give presents and all, Jimin was so smug and proud of himself. He never had a problem with showing his feelings and love even if the recipients were men.

I've had problems with people talking as if Jimin was a toxic male for years. This a post from September 2021 and I was already talking about it and trying to push back against that narrative and wording because that's never been Jimin. It was literally every other member who had to learn a lot about how to treat people nicely.

[fleamontsoleil]

Hello people!

My name's Kordian.

I'm a guy who fell in love with stories at a young age, and decided to make their life about them.

I’m a genderqueer, bisexual mess born on april 15th, which makes me:

an aries

using they/he pronouns,

coming from poland, 

speak polish, english and basic german, spanish, french and danish, which means i can wish you a happy birthday and order coffee, and also talk about the weather and describe my outfit, but i will not get into the depths of quantum physics. 

i’m also autistic.

more info lower!

Other random things about me:

i love writing

lemons, ginger, cinnamon, pears, pasta

i have a sweet tooth

i’m getting back into drawing and watercolour painting

i love flowers, my favourite one being a carnation

i’m basically 24/7 in headphones, music always on

i like learning new languages (if you haven’t figured that out yet)

i enjoy reading, watching movies and tv shows

i can play on ukulele and i’m getting better at guitar and bass

i love stickers and pins

kinda obsessed with angels and religious symbolism while being an atheist, idk how i did that

i can trauma dump without realising, sorry for that

i love sticking things to my walls

and also telling stories

travelling

coffee

chocolate

green

robin williams

On this blog, I reblog/post things related to writing and relatable things I see. Sometimes share a snippet of my writing or freak about an idea I'm having. I’m thinking about separating this side blog into two, one for fanfic (this one), and one for my original work (with my pen name) but idk. Maybe when I have more time.

What do I write?

I write mostly fiction and fantasy, usually gory.

I write things that are inspired by things I know. I have a great imagination, which sometimes is not so fun, but when I write it's really useful. I can sit in any place and make it into a story.

All my works include queer representation.

Some of my works might be graphic, but I will put trigger warnings before any of them.

My current works:

If it comes to longer WIPs, I am used to working on one/two at once, but giving it my whole attention for the time of writing. Even though I can read seven books at once, I can't write them at once.

I also write a lot of short stories, but I will not be listing them here.

"The Tangled Sun" (working title) - a fantasy novel (1st dratf) tag: wip : tts queer, pirates, magic

Fanfiction:

"Darksun" (working title) - a post apocalyptic novel(1st draft) tag: wip : darksun angels, queer, gore, horror

you can find me under cowboymorpheus on ao3

All of Us, Strangers - an AOUS deancas AU 24,095 words “How do you cope?” he asks. “With what?” “Listen?” he says, almost asks, and sticks the hand with the bottle up, one finger pointing at the ceiling. Dean doesn’t hear anything. The silence fills the entire space. “It’s so quiet,” he says, and his voice is slightly broken up, as if he’s mourning the sound that isn’t present. “The city’s out there, but we can’t hear a fucking thing.” Castiel leans even closer, as if he was about to tell Dean his deepest, darkest secret, and Dean backs away. His hand tightens on the doorknob. “I play music, but it’s worse when it ends. I even bought one of those white-noise machines. It’s like someone’s in the corner of the room, whispering about me. We can’t even open the windows, but I guess they don’t want us to jump.” he pauses for a while. “Bad for business. Broken bodies on the concrete. Who’s gonna move in then?” he asks, but he doesn’t expect an answer.

Dean Cas Big Bang fic - estimated word count 27k

-----

on the road - WHICH IS A WORKING TITLE - estimated word count is 60k After John dies, Dean has no more reasons to be trapped in his hometown. With the encouragement of his friends and family, he hits the road, where he meets new people and learns new things about himself, finally being able to explore himself as much as he always wanted to. Not having to hide, being able to just be his own person is something he didn't know he would ever be able to do. Little does he know, it's only the beginning of the good things to happen.

stained white roses - a darkfic basically

My other account is @cowboymorpheus. you'll probably find out some more on the intro post there. It's where I reblog and sometimes post fandom stuff, here it's just, I don't know. Writing, ao3 and the rest of random stuff like that.

That's pretty much all. Like I said, I'm open to new conversations, so don't hesitate to message me or send asks anytime. And I'm ask/tag game friendly!

Have a nice one!