#but what has that ever done for me maybe its time to stop for good

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.

[hon3y-y]

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !! maybe satoru got a little ahead of himself when he told you to throw away all of your vibrators…

cw : smut (surprised?), sex toys(again, is anyone surprised?), sub-ish!reader, dom-ish!satoru he’s more cheeky than anything, overstim & edging, etc etc…

*not edited*

when satoru was young and immature two weeks ago, he hated vibrators. maybe it was jealousy but when he found your little collection, he became a pouty mess. am i not good enough? do those make you feel better than i do? he even went as far as giving you the silent treatment, stating it was a ‘betrayal’.

you just rolled your eyes, taking his overreaction as immaturity and allowing him to throw his tantrum by himself. it didn’t last long, coming to its end one late saturday night where he climbed into the bed with a cheeky smile on his face.

“show me..” he mumbled, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your neck. his eyes were wide, pleading almost, lip tucked behind his teeth, his hands caressing your exposed skin and slowly unbuttoning the sleep shirt you wore.

“oh but i thought you wanted me to ‘throw all of them out’?” your words made him scoff.

“that wasn’t exactly what i said—“

“toru, i saw the tears in your eyes—“ before you could continue, his lips were on yours. it was rough, trying to shut you up which only made you smile. “you done being a big baby?”

satoru nods before moving to pull off your sleep shorts, “c’mon, i just wanna see”

so of course, that’s what got you into this predicament. you laying down with your head on the pillow while satoru lays on his stomach between your thighs, eyes glistening with mischief as he stares at your panty clad mound. Throughout the past couple of days, toru has made you use a couple toys to help get off, realizing extremely fast how it was becoming his new favorite hobby.

he took in how quick you were to cum, thighs clenching around the toy while you creamed, sticky substance leaving strings on your panties when he became impatient and pulled them off. it was almost addicting. you became so sensitive, eyes welling up when he began to fuck your swollen pussy, “s’too much!”

he just pounded into you harder, mockingly cooing at you. “oh, it’s too much? fine, i’ll stop.” satoru would pull out mid thrust, teasingly rubbing his fat tip against your clenching hole. he would do it until your legs wrapped around his waist to try and push him in, he smiled at the annoyance that came over you, still feisty even when being fucked dumb. “you’re so greedy—can’t ever make up your mind” shaking his head, toru would shove it back in while rubbing your clit making you squeal, an unusual reaction that he was growing accustomed to.

Those toys became his best friends and it was only a matter of time before he wanted to be in control of them. satoru personally loved your wand vibrator, pulling an orgasm out of you quick while also being used in so many different methods and positions. so it wasn’t a shocker that it was that one he picked.

you were comfortable, something he had been checking the whole time. He felt giddy, dick hard just from thinking about it. He made sure to start off slow and ease you into it, putting it on a low setting before teasingly dragging it up and down the crease of your panties, biting his lips after hearing your breath hitch whenever the tiny vibrations passed your aching clit.

“how does that feel, pretty girl?” he kissed your thigh softly, turning up the vibration to hear the gasp as you opened your mouth to speak.

“g-good!”

your words got choked up in your throat, hips bucking as he pushed it down on your bud. meanwhile, satoru watched in fascination as the damp spot on your panties grew bigger and bigger, mouth watering as he gently pressed his nose against it before his tongue lolled out to take a swipe. “satoru!” you gasped, hands moving to tug on his hair and pull it back, a heat climbing up your body in embarrassment.

he smiled sheepishly, turning up the vibrations another level which quickly made your hands loosen as your jaw fell open to let out a moan. “now's not the time to scold, dear~”

he pulls away, shutting off the vibrator while sitting on his knees. you felt a little light headed, eyebrows furrowing, “you're done?”

he shook his head, instead, pulling your panties down and flinging them across the room, fingers moving to play in your wetness before slowly dragging his soaked appendage to your clit to swirl around, “just lay back and relax your pretty little head. i know what i’m doing.”

he picked the vibrator back up, once again on its lowest setting and began using it to dip into your messy hole and spread the juices to the rest of your pussy. he felt like he was painting a pretty picture, eyes zeroing into his muse while his other hand wrapped around your thick thigh to pull it open.

he did this for a while, secretly watching and enjoying the way you were growing frustrated, pussy clamping around nothing as a frown overtook your lips. “toru—enough!”

he smiled, biting back a laugh at the whining. “fine..” you huffed, leaning back on the pillow.

you heard it before you felt it, the vibrations sounding stronger. you sat up, confused before the feeling of pure euphoria washed over you, causing your jaw to loosen and your eyes to cross and roll back. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the stimulation almost too much, your hands moving to push it away, “too much! please—i can’t!”

but satoru just clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, “first it’s not enough, now it’s too much… this stupid thing can’t satisfy you, huh?” he pushes your hands away, positioning himself between your legs in a way that made it hard to shut them. “what do you think baby?”

finishing his sentence he began to move it up and down, the feeling making your stomach lurch and shedding some of the tears that gathered in your eyes. it felt too good, borderline brutal against your sensitive pussy.

you couldn’t even acknowledge his question, whimpers and pants filled the room along with mindless babbles of his name. “i’m—s’close! oh fuck—satoru! d-dont sto—p”

your hands claw at the sheets as you begin to tremble, your vision going blurry and the pressure in your stomach is released in pleasurable waves. you didn’t realize you had passed out until you feel a light tapping on your cheek causing your eyes to open slowly. At first, you’re too disoriented to focus. your vision is splotchy and your ears have a small ringing in them.

it takes a couple of seconds for you to register where you are and what just happened, finally taking in your surroundings. the first thing you see once your eyes adjust is satoru staring at you with a shocked grin. “babe..” he leaned down to kiss you, “–that was so hot” his hand reached between you two to pet at your cunt, cooing at the sharp intake of breath you had.

“let’s try again… i’ll leave it on a low setting, i promise” liar

safe to say toys became a frequent tool after that, even going as far as him ordering new ones to “try” including a cock-ring that leaves you both overstimulated, whiny, messes...

the end

a/n; two releases in one day??? who tf am i?? ik, it’s been soooo long but i didn’t have any inspiration</3 i honestly wanna right more sub!jjk characters so if anyone has any ideas they would like to present to the class PLEASEEE🙏 (especially nanami, cause i loveeee him)

[tititilani]

I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer

Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.

They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.

The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.

"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."

"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.

"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.

Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.

Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.

He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.

And then there's the fortune-teller.

They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.

"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."

"What." Charles says. "The fuck."

Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.

"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."

Oh. Oh.

Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.

Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.

It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.

Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.

Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.

"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.

"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."

He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.

[jeongin-lvr]

cw. fingering, tutor/smart girl reader, fuckboy yeonjun who’s kinda mean

FUCKBOY YEONJUN and his sudden and very apparent obsession with you; the girl who always looks so pretty during lectures and in the halls around campus. he can’t help but find an intrigue in the way you walked, the way you answered questions in class with a little bit of a know-it-all tone, even how you swiped lip gloss across your lips. he’s sworn he’s never been this hot and bothered about someone before. so what else is he to do than pursue you? he wastes no time approaching you within a few days of noticing you, almost embarrassing himself as he attempts to fluster you— earn some kind of approval yet all he got was a simple stare and then a nod. like he was crazy, like he was the weird one. oh, and that hurt his precious ego a bit too hard.

so maybe he’ll approach you again but this time he’s asking for some tutoring lessons— something to boost his grade in the class, all the while you stare at him with those absent eyes, jaw widened in an almost “are you done” quirk upward. Yeonjun barely gets his proposition out before you’re questioning him, why suddenly? tutoring sessions in the middle of the semester? “are you gonna help me or not, sweetheart?” he watches the way your eyebrows scrunch and it almost sets him off again. but Yeonjun has a little more composure than he thought and simply waited for a response. “okay, fine,” he grinned, brain already twisting with the thoughts and ideas of what he wanted to do. he’s already got you in his clutches, he just needs to find some sort of bait to keep you inside.

He’s sitting beside you in the library, bored out of his mind as you try to teach him something about something, he doesn’t care much to focus. When you agreed to tutoring him he assumed it was because you were interested— little did he know you took things very literally, especially college. So he watched with vacant eyes as your pretty, well-manicured nails dragged along the paper, underlining every word he needed to know, every vocabulary he should have memorized by now. His mind playing the nastiest scenarios of you; thinking of ways he could get you, all the scenarios playing out in his mind like a movie. Until your fingers snap in front of his eyes, snapping him out of those lewd thoughts. Your eyes are stern and its like you know exactly what he’s thinking; the glare you hold almost having Yeonjun act up, he almost grabs your thigh, he realizes he could just proposition these thoughts, it’s on the tip of his tongue. “Pay attention, stupid.” Your words make him run his tongue along his teeth; really? Stupid?

So you go back to instructing him, acting all better and smarter than him, you wouldn’t mind if he ran his fingers up your thigh, right? His touch jolts you out of focus, so suddenly that you stammer over your words; that’s the first time he’s ever heard you stutter like that. Were you suddenly nervous? Yeonjun watched your expression, a once serious stare was now replaced with pink cheeks and scrunched eyebrows, trying to keep up that nonchalant attitude. But he could almost see your composure crack. The feigning sound of your authorstive voice melt into a soft mutter. His fingertips wandered even further, half-expecting you to push him off, but you never did. He abused this, flicking the hem of your skirt up to he could feel the plush fat of your thighs under his palms. “I’m paying very good attention, sweetheart.” Yeonjun’s voice is full of malice, his smirk apparent on his plush lips. It’s a whisper but this whisper is cocky and you hate it. “Keep reading.”

Keep reading? Keep reading— is he serious? He asked for your help and he’s demanding shit from you? How dare— you let out a swift, unstoppable whimper as his fingers push against your clothed pussy hard. He chuckles as he feels you tense up; drawing his fingers in circles around your entrance, stopped only by the cotton fabric of your pink panties. You turn your head to him and see that smirk on his face, it’s sick but only because you hate the smugness of it. He’s prideful that he finally got the girl who showed little to know interest in him. Did he really though? You remained as steady as you could but slowly your composure cracked… every word you spoke every line, every stupid paragraph you read caused your demeanor to slip.

“You’re stuttering a lot,” Yeonjun observed aloud, “You nervous?” The pads of his fingers grazed your clit, then again, “You’re not as smart as you think, babe.” You want to turn and tell him to back off but then feeling of his touch was too good to pass up. The rumors you’d heard about him— the rumors of him being a flirt, a playboy, a no good tramp. Those were all true. You’d sworn off any advances he’d ever made on you, and the intensity of it has boiled over the edge. He’s getting what he wanted and you weren’t inclined to stop him at this point. Besides, what’s the harm in a little fun?

“Read it again,” Yeonjun grits his teeth as he bends you over the table, skirt flipped up. The library was closed way beyond its usual hours. It’s dark and the only light is from the stupid little lamp at the table, illuminating over your features for only Yeonjun to see. “Again.” He stuffs himself into you so well it’s almost surreal. You shook your head and cried, “Can’t— Yeonjun, p-please!” He simply clicks his tongue and groans, holding your hips steady as he pulls himself back again, painfully slow. His cock fit so tightly into you it was almost choking him; you wailed into the wet, tear stained paper of his textbook, annotated with notes that you had no care to show him again. “Mmm, you can. I need to memorize it don’t I? So read it for me. Hurry up.” Yeonjun snaps his hips into you again, harsh slap of his skin meeting yours making you shiver. Your eyes glaze over the dumb algebraic equation, the words highlighted in neon yellow, blurry in your vision. You squinted your eyes and in a whiny, dumb voice you read out loud.

“There ya go,” He patted your butt, chuckling at the way you shook from his touch, “M’ learning so much…”

[wileys-russo]

mascot II l.williamson

"you nervous?" you asked, leaning in your door frame as leah glanced over to you with a firm shake of her head. "no." she replied quickly, not an ounce of doubt present in her voice but you knew her well enough to see the flicker of unease in her eyes.

you stepped into the bathroom, making your way over to her and gently pushing her hands out of the way where she'd been messing about with the collar of her jacket.

"it's okay if you are, means its important and you want to do well." you assured softly, folding over and smoothing out her collar, tapping her shoulders with a smile.

"maybe a tiny bit nervous then." your girlfriend admitted quietly, pulling you into a sudden hug as her chin rested on your shoulder.

"you mean to tell me the leah williamson, england captain and european champion is human?" you gasped teasingly, leah pinching your sides.

"you'll be brilliant my love. you've done everything right lee, now its time to go and enjoy it." you smiled kindly, holding her away from you at arms length, your hands gently clasping her face.

"what if i mess it up again?" the doubt was now clear in her facial features as her eyebrows turned downward into a deep frown.

"like i said lee, you're human. football has ups and football has downs, you've been smashing it back on pitch for arsenal. this isn't anything different, you go out and you give 100% and do your best for your country. no one can ever expect anything more from you than that." you assured, eyes never leaving hers as she nodded.

"i love you." she replied simply, leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. you indulged her for a moment, leahs hands slipping down to your hips and drawing your body closer into hers.

"i need to go before you get in trouble for having visitors." you pulled away with a smile, leah sighing but nodding none the less. "stop pouting, i'll be seeing you in like three hours." you laughed at her face, sweetly pecking her lips a few more times.

"i'll meet you with the mascots yeah? you'll have mia?" leah asked, hands grabbing yours and fiddling with your fingers as you hung about by her door. "we'll be there." you promised, your girlfriend nodding as you opened the door.

"ah! captain mode, be professional." you warned with a playful glare as she took the opportunity of your back facing her to reach out and smack your bum, her usual cheeky grin returning as you shook your head.

then with one more final kiss goodbye, you were gone.

~

"how does she seem?" you murmured quietly to keira, keeping a watchful eye on your niece as she ran around giggling, making friends left right and centre forever the social butterfly. "good. stern and serious as usual!" keira chuckled, bumping her shoulder into yours.

"back to herself then." you laughed quietly, greeting a few of the other girls as they joined you, your girlfriend still not to be seen as they called out for the mascots to line up so the girls could meet them properly.

you bid keira goodbye and squatted down as mia ran over. "come here you grub." you laughed with a shake of your head, re-tucking in her shorts and smoothing out her hair.

"you are just like your dad." you chuckled, your older brother forever bouncing about like an energizer bunny nearly his whole life. "do i have to tuck it in?" she groaned, stamping her foot and pulling her shirt back out of her shorts.

"all the very best footballers tuck their shirt." you looked up to see your favourite smile bearing down on you, mia tackling leah in a hug and wrapping tightly around her leg. "can you do it please?" mia asked, lifting her arms as leah knelt down to help her tuck it in.

"mia! what was wrong with how i did it?" you gasped in mock offence, hand on your chest as your niece shrugged. "aunty lee's the best at everything." she answered simply, leah picking her up into a tight hug.

"yeah very mature captain williamson." you rolled your eyes at the older girl who stuck her tongue out at you over the five year olds shoulder making her giggle. snapping back out of it your girlfriend gently placed mia back down, again squatting to her height.

"hey mee." leah started, poking at her sides and making her squeal. "so when you walk out with me in a little bit i won't be smiling very much. i want you to know that doesn't mean i'm upset or grumpy or anything. but all of this-" she paused to gesture her hands around the room.

"-this is my job. and part of my job means i have to be a bit more serious than usual, and make sure all my girls are ready to play the best football we can. but that doesn't mean im cross with you, okay?" leah finished with a reassuring smile, mia nodding along in understanding as your heart melted at the sight.

"you're the boss!" your neice chirped, tapping the england crest on leahs top with her hand making you laugh as your girlfriend grinned up at you.

"nah not the boss, just wear the armband and look after the girls. don't tell anyone but really i just pretend to know what im doing!" leah whispered looking around before grinning at the five year old, ruffling her hair and standing up as the refs appeared ready to walk out.

"now mia you listen to aunty lee when you're out there yeah? and then as soon as you're told to you come right back and meet me here and i'll take us to our seats. okay? no funny business!" you warned, your niece nodding as leah held out her hand, stern look already settled into her features as mia bounced excitedly on her feet.

knowing better than to break leahs professionalism you took a step back, huddling on the edge of the tunnel with the families of the other mascots as the girls walked out.

watching on as mia sang her heart out to the national anthem made your own melt, catching leah almost break her serious facade, some of the other girls chuckling at the unbridled passion from your niece.

it was so fast you might have missed it if you blinked, but you saw the indescribable pride flicker across your girlfriends face as she used the back of her hand to wipe away a single tear, masking it as she clapped and the girls started to disperse.

you smiled as mia raced over to you, babbling on and on as you chuckled, taking her hand and just catching leahs eye. "i love you." you mouthed, a small smile curling into the corners of her mouth as she winked quickly, dropping back into position as you hoisted mia up onto your hip and left to make your ways to your seats.

and you'd never felt prouder.

[malewifesband]

as big as the friend confession scene is i love this part best. laios is ofc still under the impression that kabru likes monster food and went thru this big effort to make something special for him and then kabru goes out of his way to be so warm and sweet, and frankly a bit flirtatious like i know he thinks that exit killed it

and hes kinda right bc laios cannot stop staring after him when he leaves and i cannot attribute all that to him being confused about what kabru meant by "dont forget me next time". like laios means it if he says something like "meeting you was the best part of this" those are not empty words even if hes under a false impression about kabru--i dont think its just that kabru shared his interest that has his attention either. i think its bc kabru really engaged with him. i dont think his opinion wouldve changed much if kabru said "nahhhh im good i wont eat a monster cool for you tho have fun" instead of saying he would try it

(and he really is trying the 'laugh at anything he says so he'll feel special' strat here huh.....)

and kabru despite being a stranger he helped get thru to shuro about falins resurrection

and he does it with a sensitivity and care that laios wishes he was capable of and he know it limits him as a leader

the thought laios keeps having about kabru isnt "wow he loves monsters too!" its "wow he is sooooo nice :3" which he is! at this stage he likes kabru bc he feels heard by him and kabru has qualities he knows he lacks but admires greatly and didnt make fun of him or call him weird for his interest in monsters

the way kabru acts and thinks about laios at this point feels allegorical to how people feel in new relationships. can i trust you? are you who you seem? if i tell you how ive been hurt, will you use this to hurt me or to protect me? i dont know yet, but i like you so far, so im going to show you the self that i think you'll like best. i want to impress you. i want you to trust me so maybe i can trust you

so much of dungeon meshi is about the way that we accidentally hurt our loved ones because we cant always understand them, or we dont know whats best for them when theyve been hurt in such complex ways, or because were too scared of being hurt again to tell them not to press into the bruise (see: chimera falin, falin giving up parts of her life to suit/protect marcille and laios bc she loves them, laios driving marcille deeper into the winged lions grip TWICE with his advice in the nightmares and again with the dungeon rabbits, everything chilchuck has ever done in his whole life, laios' father's everything also, and this is a labru post so ofc kabru lying about wanting to eat monsters to impress laios) i wouldnt be surprised if the allegory was intentional

anyways this part of their relationship budding into a toxic little flower theyll have to prune later is very cute to me and i really like reading it again knowing how they turn their relationship around later into one built on a mutual understanding and trust

[rememberwren]

/•Harmless Fun 6•\

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Everyone comes clean.

About this: some explicit talk about consent and non-consent.

-

Johnny insists that it will be easier for the three of you to talk in the ruined bathroom, which is how you end up in the bathtub. A part of you thinks that Johnny should be the one in the tub (he’s the one limping, after all), but he had taken the broom from your hands and insisted on sweeping up the remains of the ceiling tiles himself. 

“Don’t need two good legs to work a broom, hen. Be reasonable,” he’d said with a roll of his eyes. 

Simon keeps busy at the other end of the bathroom sopping up the standing water that threatens the bedroom carpet. With nothing to do and no one who would accept your help, you had minimal options: sit on the closed lid of the toilet or curl up in the empty tub. 

At least in the tub you could draw the curtain shut and retain a little dignity. 

“The bathroom needs major reconstruction,” Simon says, the close quarters and tiled walls making his voice sound as if it is coming from every direction. Not that you mind, with a voice like his. You take in this news while examining the bottles of soap and shampoo nestled in the nook of the wall, reaching out quietly to take one and pop the cap open. God, it smelled like Simon did after his post-run showers, woodsy and clean. You inhale deeply. “So we’re down to one bathroom for the next few weeks.” 

Your belly swoops with relief: they weren’t kicking you out. You peek out of the shower curtain, soap held out of view, and maybe it is partly that outlandish relief that has you saying: “That’s not so bad.” 

Simon stares, kneeling on the tiles, wet towels all around him. “It’s an invasion of your space and privacy.” 

“Yeah, who knows the sort of girly things you keep hidden in there,” Johnny says. 

Simon shoots him a dry, unamused look. 

“I don’t mind sharing,” you admit (thank God you’d hidden the only real incriminating item before Johnny had used your bathroom). “My last roommate and I had to share while we lived together. We just locked the door and tried to respect each other’s time. I’m sure the three of us can make it work.” 

“We’ll have to,” Simon says, sounding about as thrilled of the prospect as a man might be of the electric chair or other unwilling euthanasia. He turns his dark, all-seeing eyes on you. “What is it that you needed to talk to us about?” 

You pull the curtain shut abruptly. With care, you sneak the soap back into its former position and hope that Simon won’t notice it’s been moved. Your hand shakes while you do. You’re horrified to feel tears of embarrassment and shame filling your eyes, grateful for the cover of the shower curtain as you palm the tears away before they can fall. Even if they weren’t planning to kick you out, it made you feel no less shameful about what you had done on the car ride home.

“I just feel terrible about last night. What I did to you, Johnny—and you, Simon—it, it was trashy to say the least. I mean, it was predatorial—” 

The soft rasp of the broom’s filaments against the floor stops. 

“Preda—? Alright, I’m coming in there.” Johnny draws the curtain back, frowning down at you. You don’t want to imagine the sight you make: curled up in his bathtub, eyes red from rubbing them raw. He turns himself sideways and sits on the ledge, wincing as he does so. Ever attuned to Johnny’s needs, Simon reaches out and helps him adjust his leg into a more neutral position. “What’s all this? Yer no predator.” 

“You tried to stop me.” Your voice is thick, cracking at the edges. 

“I didn’t say no, not in so many words—” 

“You didn’t say yes either, Johnny,” you remind him. “If a man had done to me what I did to you last night, you’d break his teeth in.” 

Johnny’s face twists into a grim expression. “Aye. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it wasn’t right what you did—but I get a say in it too, don’t I? I get to decide what happened to me, and I don’t feel like I was taken advantage of. Jesus, I could have stopped you if I hadn’t wanted it so bad.” 

“I think you’re—” you pause, blinking as Johnny’s words make it through the fog of your own self pity. Your eyes flicker to Simon, unsure if you had heard correctly. Simon gives nothing away, his eyes reminding you of cool dark rooms, if only you could find a lightswitch to illuminate them. “Johnny, did you just say—” 

“Is it easier if I shut the curtain again?” 

“Might be.” 

“Alright.” Simon helps him stand and Johnny tugs the curtain shut again. “Let me preface this by saying that you can say no to the likes of us, fer any reason, explained or otherwise, and there won’t be any consequences! But since the day you moved in, we’ve felt a chemistry with you that we haven’t felt with many people before, and we wanted to know if you felt the same way.” 

Chemistry. That was one way to put it. Overwhelming attraction and unshakeable fondness was another. While you knew that the three of you got along well enough (and more than once Johnny had referred to you all as friends), it loosened some tight, anxious muscle in your chest to know that they felt the connection too. It wasn’t just wishful thinking on your part; there was chemistry.

“What sort of chemistry?” you ask, adjusting yourself into a more comfortable position.

“There’s more than one?” Simon mutters. 

“I mean, there’s chemistry in a friendly way or a more romantic way—” 

“A sexual way,” Johnny suggests. You jolt and accidentally bang your knuckles against the porcelain of the tub. Hissing, you cradle them against your chest, mulling over his words.

Your mouth feels almost too dry to speak. 

“Right. Well—yes, I feel…that.” In the back of your brain, a tiny fire burns, fueled by disappointment. You try to smother its flames before it grows out of control and threatens to burn up your higher reasoning. Not every relationship needed to be centered around romance; this was the twenty-first century. You were perfectly within your rights—some would consider it smart, even—to have physical relationships without the complication of emotional aspects.

You’ll keep working on convincing yourself. In the meantime: “So you’re saying you want to have sex.” 

“I’m open to taking things slow and seeing where they lead,” says Johnny.

Dimly you remember something: some night spent curled up on the couch, your head lighter than air, listening to Johnny and Simon talk beside you. Something about their conversation reminded you of this moment, but the more you tried to remember, the more it slipped through your fingers like sand. 

“All of us?” you ask, noticing Simon’s pointed silence. 

There is shifting on the other side of the curtain. You see shadows moving through the thin plastic and fabric, like the two of them are trying to have a silent conversation with only hand gestures. It does nothing for your nerves. At length, Simon says: “Not me. Just you and Johnny.”

Your heart does a strange dip, like a bird changing course and soaring toward the ground. You feel strangely, stupidly hurt by this, though you couldn’t put into words why, and you wouldn’t want to even if he asked. It was within his rights to say no. Hadn’t you just learned that lesson?

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that?” you ask. Simon had never come off as a jealous sort of type (and you imagine that a jealous type wouldn’t last long with Johnny anyway, not with the way the other man liked to flirt), but everyone had a limit. You weren’t sure that if the situations were reversed you could be so affable. 

“Someone needs to keep a clear head,” he says. “I’ll be the designated driver.” 

Maybe he’s right. If you truly plan to sleep with Johnny, maybe it will be best to have someone in the apartment still as detached as possible. 

“Thanks, I guess,” you say, trying to force a little humor into your voice. “I think I proved last night that I don't make the best decisions under the influence.” 

“You did make the best decision,” he says solemnly. “You called me.” 

Johnny’s hand appears from around the edge of the shower curtain. Grinning, you stretch out to touch his fingers with your own and lace them together. It’s a little awkward, but most new things are. His hand is warm and gentle, and you could get used to it. 

“We’ll take it slow, yes?” 

“Alright.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Lunch?” 

“Definitely on the same page there.” 

“Get out of my tub then.”

-

“Hey. Stay back.” 

Feeling a little like a student asked to stay behind after class, you watch with envy as Johnny slips into the living room to call for takeout, leaving you alone with Simon. You don’t get to spend a lot of alone time with Simon, and that time is usually spent in companionable silence as he reads. Nerves bubble in your belly, wondering what else he could have to talk to you about that he wouldn’t want to say in front of his husband.

“What’s up?” you ask, aiming for nonchalant. 

“I’ve got a rule,” he says. “One for you.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Don’t fall in love with Soap.” You blink up at him. Of all the things you could have imagined him saying, this hadn’t been on the list—though perhaps it should have been right there at the top. “I know how easy he is to love. But I also know that this is going to end at some point, one way or another. Let's not let it end up a mess. That’s my advice. As the driver.”

“Just friends,” you clarify around the knot in your throat. “Believe it or not, I was thinking the same thing. This is all just for fun, right?”

Simon stares at you hard, like he is trying to see through you to the door behind you. You hope your face is arranged into something neutrally appropriate but know that if it isn’t, it’s already too late. 

“Right,” he says at length.

-

The night ends softly, with something mindless and easy on television. Simon sits on the floor with his back against the base of the couch, head against Johnny’s knees. Johnny lays outstretched across the couch on his side, one hand reaching down to rub at his aching thigh now and again. All while you sit curled up in the armchair, watching the television half as often as you watch the two of them. 

They’re beautiful. There’s something about the way they contrast with each other, the darkness and the light, which you find aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes Johnny slips his fingers into Simon’s hair and scratches softly at his scalp, and you get to watch the relaxed, blissed-out expression creep over Simon’s face at the stimulation. 

The domesticity of it does something to you. Deep in your chest—in between your legs. It’s time for you to call it a night; there’s a toy in your room with your name on it (not literally). Joints creaking from disuse as you stand, both their heads swivel to look up at you, making your heart squeeze fondly. 

“I think I’m tapping out for the night,” you admit. 

Simon wishes you a goodnight. 

Johnny says: “Where’s my goodnight kiss?” 

You feel zapped, suddenly wide awake. “You…want one?” 

Johnny nods. He tries to sit up but can’t find the leverage, face twisting in pain. 

“No,” you tell him, “You stay there, I’ll come to you.” 

Walking around the coffee table, you come to kneel beside Simon at Johnny’s head. Your chest feels tight, blood thrumming with nerves. You can’t help but glance toward Simon who hasn’t changed positions except to angle his body towards you both a fraction more, his eyes dark and shadowed. 

“Alright, hen?” Johnny asks. 

“Yeah,” you murmur. 

He reaches out to cup your cheek, his palm warm, thumb stroking along the length of your cheekbone. Steeling your nerves, you lean down and press your mouth against his. His lips are soft, warm as you give him the simplest, chastest kiss. He keeps you there, searching for more, tilting your head with his hand until the angle serves him best, parting his lips until you can taste the lemon from the tea Simon had shared with you both earlier that night.

His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip and your thighs shake, weak in the knees from holding yourself up. You grip a fistful of the couch cushion beside his head and meet his tongue with your own, a soft little dance, familiar steps but a new partner. He exhales, the breath fanning across your cheek, and something about that makes the ache between your legs so much worse. 

You break away. Your fingers find his hair, soft dark strands that slip through your fingers like silk. You whisper: “Johnny.” 

“Just a little more, please,” Johnny begs, and you can’t say no when you want it so bad.

You meet him open mouthed, shifting on your knees to make yourself more comfortable—and you brush against Simon seated beside you. It has you pulling back, sucking in a breath. You can’t help but look at him with wide, guilty eyes, only to find him watching you with quiet, earnest intensity. His mouth curls at the edges into the ghost of a smile, though why he would be smiling, you couldn’t say. 

Meanwhile, Johnny sighs, brushing his thumb against your lower lip.

“Chemistry,” he says, mouth red and kiss-swollen. 

You silently agree. 

[itneverendshere]

Perhaps Rafe x Shy!Bartender reader at the country club. Maybe she was driven there and was supposed to get picked up, but shit got in the way. And she is far from home. Rafe is there that day for golfing or something and it’s her first day. He is instantly smitten and waits until her shift is over to properly ask her out, and notices she has no car to get home and gets protective

i looooved this and in my head this is EXACTLY how rafe and pogue!reader from this request met. this is the same universe, im making it canon rn

it could be you and me - rafe cameron

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader word count: 3.5k

Rafe slid through the crowd, heading toward the golf course. He had plans to join Topper for a round or two.

Like usual, his presence drew glances—partially because of the rumors that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Being the epitome of privilege, born into the wealth that afforded him everything, made sure that all eyes were on him, everywhere he went on that stupid fucking town. But that day, he’d been off his game from the moment he woke up.

He felt out of place, restless and mostly, bored. Every day in this place felt the same to him. The pleasures he used to get from being a kook were slowly burning out. The days had started blending together, the endless cycle of parties, and drinks had begun to lose its allure. Doing the same thing, over and over again. 

Nothing was new. Nothing was exciting anymore.

He was bored out of his mind. Golf wasn’t exactly his passion, but it was a way to pass the time, to pretend like he shouldn’t be in the office finishing whatever paperwork his father had shoved down his throat the night before. 

He needed a drink if he wanted to get through the rest of the day without breaking something.

He approached the clubhouse and noticed a small crowd gathered at the bar. It wasn’t an unusual sight—it was one of the most popular spots in the club—but something, or rather someone, caught his attention.

Behind the counter, there was someone he’d never seen before.

You wore the standard uniform of the club's staff—white blouse, black slacks, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail—but there was something about you that made him stop in his tracks. You weren’t a kook, that much was clear. And you were new. Way too new by the looks of the growing line.

You were busy, pouring drinks, smiling politely at the members, but he could tell you were nervous from the way you overdid it. It was like you were trying to make yourself small for those people. It didn’t help that they treated you like you were invisible, snapping their fingers or raising their voices to get your attention.

Fucking assholes.

He didn’t know why he felt so irritated all of the sudden. He’d done the same thing times and times again, he was no better than any of them, on a good day. But he hated watching it happen to you. He couldn’t stop staring, he felt creepy as he listed all the little things he noticed about you. Your hands moved quickly, but delicately, as if you took great care in everything you did.

You turned to reach for a bottle on a high shelf and he finally caught a good glimpse of your face—a glimpse that nearly made him drop his golf club on the spot. There was something striking about you. It was in the way your eyes narrowed as you focused on pouring the right amount of alcohol on a drink, and the way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you kept concentrating.

You were beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. He’d seen pretty girls all his life, he made sure he surrounded himself with them. But you? You were something else. 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a genuine curiosity, to know more about someone. He didn’t think about hooking up, about asking for your number. You didn’t belong here and maybe that’s what made you so good.

The shift seemed never-ending, even though it was your first day.

Most of the club members hadn’t even bothered to learn your name —either way, you were having a hard time keeping up. 

You hadn’t wanted to take the job, but you didn’t have much of a choice. The country club was the only place hiring that summer, and you needed the money. Your friend had driven you there earlier that morning, promising to pick you up after your shift. But earlier, when you had glanced at your phone during a ten-second break, you saw a text from her saying she’d been held up—something about the car breaking down.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you handed a gin and tonic to a bald asshole who didn’t even bother to thank you. You were stuck here, away from home, and the last thing you wanted to do was ask one of these people for help.

Your nerves had already skyrocketed. Between the constant drink orders, the lack of polite smiles, and trying your best not to spill anything or offend any of these spoiled kooks, you were losing your mind. Being the center of attention wasn’t your forte, and being behind the bar was giving you a migraine as the members kept barking their orders, complaining when their drinks weren’t perfect, and barely acknowledging your existence.

You could feel their judgmental stupid eyes on you, like you were some sort of animal—a pogue. 

The buzz in your stomach kept getting stronger with every minute.

You wished you could just disappear, but you needed the job and so, you had no option but to take it like a big girl and get used to it. By the end of the day, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for another bottle, your muscles aching from trying to keep up with the endless demands.

As you handed yet another whiskey on the rocks to an ungrateful rich asshole, you noticed someone approaching the bar from the corner of your eye. Unlike the others, he didn’t immediately shout his order or snap his fingers. He just stood there, watching you, a slight smirk on his face.

It was hard not to recognize him—Rafe Cameron. You’d heard stories about him, of course. Everyone in the Outer Banks had. He was practically royalty, the golden boy of one of the wealthiest families around.

You hated being stared at, it made you feel even more out of place than you already did. You could feel your cheeks turning red just from that alone.

“Can I get you something?” you asked, politely yet barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Rafe leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving your face, “What do you recommend?”

He sounded amused. Like he was genuinely enjoying himself. Like he didn’t know this was your first day on the job. You knew he did because everything about him screamed Country Club boy. You hadn’t exactly had time to memorize the menu. But you didn’t want to look like a stupid in front of a kook, let alone kook royalty. 

“Uh, well, the mojitos are pretty popular,” you offered, hoping that was true.

He raised a brow, his smirk widening. “Mojitos, huh? Alright, I’ll take one.”

You nodded and quickly got to work, trying to ignore the way your hands were shaking. As you muddled the mint leaves and squeezed the lime, you could feel his eyes on you.

Jesus, what was his problem with the staring? Was there something on your face? Were you doing this whole thing wrong? It was unnerving. When you finally handed him the drink, he took it with a nod, but instead of walking away, he stayed there, sipping it slowly in front of you, like some kind of test. 

“You’re new here,” he remarked, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yeah, first day.”

He took another sip, “Not a bad start,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

Was he trying to be funny? You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure if he was mocking you or being genuine. Before he could say anything else, another customer called for your attention, and you turned away to help them. 

Rafe didn’t move. Even as you worked, he stayed rooted to his seat. Every time you glanced in his direction, he was still there, watching you, not looking the least bit shameful about it. He left eventually.

By six thirty, the club was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers lingering at the bar and some late-night golfers finishing their rounds. You wiped down the counter one last time, wondering how the hell you were going to get home. You’d almost forgotten about the earlier text from your friend, but now your anxiety was back. 

You didn’t have anyone else to call and walking home alone, at night was terrifying, small town or not. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, praying for another solution to pop into your head, but nothing came.

“Come on, think…” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. It was a mess after being up in a ponytail the entire day but it was starting to give you a headache, so you took it down, hoping it would help you think clearer. It didn't.

Taking a taxi would cost more than you could afford, especially on your shitty bartender’s salary. You were pacing back and forth behind the bar, wondering how your luck had already gone down the drain on your first day working. 

In your panic, you didn’t notice someone else standing outside the glass doors of the clubhouse, watching you with a keen eye. Rafe had finished his round of golf earlier and had been hanging around, talking to a few of his father’s friends. He almost laughed at how stressed you looked but took pity on you when you almost broke down into tears right there and then.

He couldn’t have that.

You didn’t even see him walk up to the door and push it open. The sound of it swinging shut behind him startled you, and you looked up, your eyes widening as he approached you.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t move closer, just stood there by the door, giving you space.

You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath, not exactly hiding how freaked out you were. “I— I’m fine,” you stammered out. You clutched your phone tightly, as if it could somehow find you a safe way home.

Rafe bit his lip, clearly not convinced, “Y’sure about that? Cause you look like you’re two seconds away from a meltdown.”

His words, though blunt, weren’t meant to be harsh. At least you didn’t think they were, but hearing them out loud made you realize just how close you were to losing it publicly, in your workplace. You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“It’s nothing, I just…uh, I don’t have a ride home,” you admitted reluctantly,. “My friend was supposed to pick me up, but her car broke down, and now I’m stuck here.” The last part came out in a rush, as if saying it faster would somehow make it less true.

This felt like the luckiest day in his life.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding almost relieved. “I can take you home, no problem.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “What? No, I— I don’t want to impose, it’s late, and—”

You were so cute it almost made it impossible to scold you.

“You’re not imposing,” Rafe cut you off, “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone, especially at this hour. Just lemme give you a ride, okay?”

You hadn’t imagined him like this. Speaking to you, a pogue so…normally. There was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding. He was just offering help. He sounded nothing like the Rafe you’d heard about.

You hesitated, glancing back at your phone again as if you might find a better solution, but you knew deep down you weren’t finding shit. There was no one else you could call, no other option that made sense. And as much as you hated the idea of relying on someone you barely knew, on a kook of all people, you didn’t feel like sleeping on the streets.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, your voice quiet as you looked up at him. You hadn’t expected him to be so tall, “But just this once.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, “Just this once,” he echoed as he gestured toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He led you to his car, a sleek, black SUV that practically screamed money. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid inside, feeling a bit out of place. You’d never been inside such a luxurious vehicle. The plush leather seats were…something. You sat quietly, too scared to break something as he got in on the driver’s side, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The drive started off in silence. You kept your eyes focused on the road, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were in Rafe Cameron’s car, being driven home by him. It sounded almost delusional. 

After a few minutes, Rafe spoke up “So, where do you live?” he asked, glancing over at you.

He knew you were a pogue, that was a given. But he’d never seen you around before.

You quickly gave him your address, and he nodded, adjusting the GPS on his dashboard. As he did, you couldn’t help but admire how calm and collected he seemed. It was almost unsettling how comfortable he was in situations like this—small talk with strangers, a situation that always has you squirming.  

“Thanks, by the way, I really appreciate it.”

He quickly glanced over at you, “Don’t mention it. It’s no big deal.”

Except it was. You were even prettier up close, and your perfume scent was messing with his head, if it wasn’t for the GPS's stupid robotic voice he’d be lost by now.

It was a big deal to you too. It wasn’t every day that someone like Rafe went out of their way to help someone like you. And the fact that he’d done it without a second thought, without expecting anything in return was very, very confusing. 

“First day at the club, huh?” Was he trying to make small talk with you? Oh wow. His tone was so casual, like this was the most normal conversation in the world, like you two had known each other for years, and weirdly enough, you didn’t mind. “How’d it go?”

You hesitated, not sure how much you should say. Your instinct was to lie and avoid making things awkward. “Oh, it was great,” your voice raised an octave as it always did when you tried to lie your way out of conversations, “Everyone was really nice!”

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road as he let out a low chuckle. “Bullshit.”

Your smile faltered. “W-What?”

“Come on,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I watched you get run ragged by those assholes all day. You looked like you wanted to set the bar on fire.”

You opened your mouth to lie again, but before you could stop yourself, the self righteous girl in you decided to take charge. 

“Okay, fine, it was awful. Those people are the worst. They treat everyone like shit and act like they’re God’s gift to the world just because they’ve got money.” Your voice grew louder as you vented, all the frustration from the day spitting out, “I mean, who the fuck do they think they are? Just because they can afford to spend their summers at a country club doesn’t make them better than everyone else.”

Rafe’s laughter broke through your rant, and you stopped short, suddenly realizing who you were talking to. You turned to look at him, wide-eyed, your heart sinking. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered horrified, hand covering your mouth, “You’re a kook.”

He was laughing so hard that his shoulders shook, his hand gripping the steering wheel as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” he managed to wheeze out between laughs, “You really hate us, don’t you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I didn’t mean you specifically,” you mumbled, your face burning, “I just...I don’t know what came over me.”

Rafe shook his head, still chuckling as he pulled up to a stoplight. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re not wrong about most of them. But, y’know, not all kooks are complete assholes.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, still mortified. “So you’re not an asshole?”

“Oh no, I am,” He snorted, “Just not to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, lowering your hands to your lap, “Good.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was different than you’d imagined—more down-to-earth, less of a caricature of the wealthy villain you’d built up in your mind.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone still light, like he was holding back, trying not to scare you off, “What made you take the job at the club? Guessing it wasn’t for the stellar company.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just needed a job for the summer, and they were the only place hiring.”

“Lucky us,” he said, and when you looked at him, he was giving you that same playful smirk. “You might be the only decent person in that place.”

Your cheeks warmed again, and you had to look away, fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt. “I don’t know about that,” you murmured.

He glanced over, noticing the shy way you avoided his gaze, and his smirk softened. “I do.”

You must’ve hit your head earlier.

Was he flirting with you of all people? He was going to send you into cardiac arrest. You didn’t know how to answer, so you stayed quiet, the silence only broken by the quiet hum of the car’s engine and the GPS’s occasional directions.

When Rafe finally pulled up in front of your house, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt. It felt like you had something more to say, but you weren’t sure what. He seemed to sense it too because he didn’t rush you, just turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, waiting.

You finally turned to him, “Thanks again, Rafe. For everything. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Anytime. Seriously. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

The offer seemed so sincere, so out of character for the guy you’d heard about, that it left you momentarily speechless. He kept proving you wrong. 

“I will.”

With a final nod, you pushed open the door and stepped out, the cool night air hitting you as you closed the door behind you. You took a few steps toward your house before turning back, catching one last glimpse of him sitting there. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened involuntarily when you looked back. He'd offered to drive girls home before—plenty of times, in fact—but this was different. When you waved, he felt like a schoolboy who only got to see his crush at school and spent the entire weekends daydreaming about her. 

Once you walked inside, he leaned back in his seat, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting in his passenger seat, looking so out of place yet so perfect at the same time. Like you belonged right there, next to him. There was something so refreshingly genuine about you. You weren’t like the girls he knew—the ones who flaunted their wealth, who expected the world to bend over backward for them. You were different, unpretentious, and honest in a way that made him feel like he could drop the act for once.

Like he didn’t have to be Rafe Cameron, the reckless, arrogant kook.

No, with you, he could just be Rafe. And that was something he hadn’t realized he was missing until tonight.

He was done for. He knew he wasn’t going to stop until you were his.

The thought of anyone else having you, of you smiling at someone else the way you had at him tonight—it made him want to break someone’s teeth. He had a reputation, and he knew that if you heard even half of the stories about him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him after tonight. But he didn’t care. Because there was something about you that made him want to be better, to be the kind of guy you deserved.

He could already see it—the two of you, together. He’d give you the world, everything you deserved, and more. He’d make sure you never had to worry about a thing. You were perfect, too perfect for this world, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let you slip away. 

He’d make sure of it—you were going to be his girl. And nothing was going to stop him.

[nothorses]

You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there

I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.

When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!

"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.

I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"

Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.

If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.

It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.

And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?

@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)

And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.

If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.

Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?

Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.

[osachiyo]

love, love, what do you think about a reader who has really thick thighs :0 how would the bsd men react to it >:0 I feel like Nikolai/Dazai would like to force the reader to sit on their face lol (it’s a thirst just in case!!)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ note. . . AAAAAA this ask made me so insane tysm for this nonnie. . . (mdni) not proofread sorry im a lazy fuck </3

dazai would love them, maybe so much so that its a little concerning— only a little though ! he'd lovee to lay his head on your plush thighs, whining for you to sing him to sleep— its the only way he can get some rest, y'know? he already loves your thighs so much but if you like wearing booty shorts, tights or even stockings? this man is a goner. just a heads up though, they're gonna be ripped to shreds by the time he's done with you. and no, he's not gonna buy you new ones (he's too broke ya'll)

he's definitely gonna beg you to sit on his face— at least do it once for him, won't you? oh but when you actually give in, he's so fucking happy he could basically die. he'd even say it to you— pretty brown lashes fluttering as he slurs out muffled words like— "god, bella. i could just— could just suffocate between these thighs," and if you know him, you know he's being dead serious. but you can't bring yourself to complain when he's practically making out with your pussy so fuckin' good, making you drool and sputter your words as he runs his tongue up and down your slick folds. filthy slurping noises escaping his lips while his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs— they're definitely gonna bruise later..♡

chuuya would find them adorable. he just loves to bury his face between them. not even in a dirty or suggestive way— he just found it so comforting, y'know? but also would be downright mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggle and spill out of your tights— blood rushing to his face and he can't help but sneak a couple glances at your plump thighs. shit, did they look good but he just wanted to rip them off as soon as possible.

and rip them off he did— blunt nails easily ripping the fabric of your mesh tights as he continues lapping at your soaked cunt. he only chuckled when you gasped and whined about how those were your last pair! he'd peak his head from between your spread thighs— tongue running over his swollen lips and god, did he look like a total fucking mess. his eyes were glazed over with pure lust and love for you— twinkling with delight as you moaned and clutched onto the bedframe, holding on for dear life as chuuya ate you out like a fucking animal. a sloppy grin graced his features, hand moving from your thigh to reach between your legs— pushing two gloved fingers in with ease. "relax, doll. I'll buy you all the tights you need. jus' lemme enjoy my fuckin' meal." and with that, he dived right back in..♡

fyodor found the contrast between your body and his own adorable. he was tall, lanky and slim. you, on the otherhand, were plush, soft and just....so enticing to him. he loved each and every part of your body, of course but your thighs— god, your thighs. he'd love to just bury his face between them and stay there for hours. not that he'd ever admit it, though. his pride wouldn't allow it. that doesn't mean he wouldn't show his adoration for them in a...different way, of course.

he'd lay you down gently on your shared bed, kissing every part of your body from head to those delicious thighs of yours. and after he's finally done— he'd press them together before sliding his cock in between. what? why're you looking at him with those pitiful eyes of yours? what better way to showcase his love for your plush thighs than to fuck them, no? he'd shudder at the way the flushed head of his pretty cock would catch against your clit with every drag of his hips. he'd only laugh cruelly at your whining and begging for him to just put it in! oh well, he's not stopping anytime soon until he gets to cum all over your pussy and those pretty thighs of yours so..goodluck..♡

nikolai would just.. keep his hands on you all the damn time. i mean, how could he not? when you're practically asking him for it! that's why you decided to wear those tight stockings, didn't you? to show off your mouth-watering thighs to the world? he just couldn't keep his eyes off them the entire fucking day. the way the fabric clung and dug into the meat of your thighs and fuck. how could he not get rock hard?

and that's how you ended up seated on his pretty fuckin' face. eager tongue exploring your insides as guttural groans and growls left his parted lips. he was soaked— head getting squeezed by your thighs and he could almost cum from the feeling. his hands were also busy— occasionally slapping and pinching the soft fat on your thighs and snickering at your high pitched squeals. he'd also lift you a little by grabbing the back of your thighs just to look at you with those drunk-dazed eyes. and fuck, he was practically pussy drunk. he wasn't at fault though! it's all your fault for having such nice fucking thighs..♡

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[neuvistar]

biker! blade? how about guitarist! blade who fucks u before stepping onto the stage and according to him, its a good luck ritual 🫶🫶🫶

oh lawd…. u got me thinking.. guitarist blade is good w his fingers u guys CANNOT tell me otherwise

guitarist!blade x fem!reader. cw. nsfw. semi public s3x, v4ginal fingering, squirting, one pussy slap, cunnilingus, use of nicknames, blade referred 2 as “yingxing” | minors dni | nsfw under the cut !

blade groaned deeply, reveling in the sight of his precious beloved’s pleasure-stricken face. your cries filled his changing room, echoing off the walls like a testament to the newfound connection between your drenched cunt and his fingers. each thrust of his digits brought you closer to heaven, but made you fear for the worst.. there were people around, the door wasn’t locked.. you knew someone could come in any moment now. but blade? aeons.. he just wanted to savour every single moan that left your lips, igniting the fire within his body. but yet, he knew this little intimacy wouldn’t last long because of his concert he had to preform. ugh.. such bad timing.

“bladie, please…” he heard you beg, his heart lurched at the little nickname, “yingxing.. you really need to go out there and preform.. we can do this alone later..” your soft murmurs were interrupted by the sudden curl of his fingers, a sharp gasp left your lips at the sensation as you could almost feel sweat dripping down your forehead, mingling with tears of anguish and elation. “this is good luck," he panted desperately, trying to ease his arousal as he rubbed himself against the couch. “don’t interrupt.. you know you enjoy this as much as i do, don’t you?”

he shoved a third digit inside, eliciting another whimper from his precious darling.. a low chuckle rumbled in his throat, marvelling at the warmth and tightness of your pussy around his slender fingers, you knew he was getting tired of using his fingers.. you knew from how lazy his pumps were getting, they were steady.. yes, but they were also slowing down by the second. a wave of relief washed through you when blade retracted his fingers from your drooling cunt. in his eyes, it was still begging for more. but in yours? you were absolutely exhausted! you grumbled, slowly trying to get up. ah, maybe he finally stopped, right?

you were more wrong than ever. that was just the beginning.

blade raised his freehand to land a quick yet painful slap to your cunt. “ouch..! hey!” you yelped, furrowing your eyebrows with a pout. “silly girl. did you think we were done? the good luck charm has not come onto me yet.”

“w—what? what do you mean it hasn’t “come onto” you yet?! do i look like tinkerbell to you—“ blade almost immediately delved into your wet heat, oh yeah. this was what he needed. his good luck charm of the day. his tongue stroked along your folds delicately at first, kissing your clit with his pretty lips as he tasted you. fuck, he needed this alright. his fingers played with your hole gently while his mouth continued its rhythm. he was determined to give you pleasure beyond measure, but yet he was also determined to give himself a reward for all the hard work throughout the day, and.. his good luck charm he was so desperate to get. your soft cries rang out loud yet wonderfully in his changing room, praying to the gods above that nobody would walk in. the male’s tongue darted playfully over your clit while he slowly slid two fingers inside you.

“blade..” your body arched off the couch when he dug his fingers knuckles deep within you, teasingly doing a scissoring motion as your cries filled the quiet room. the more he saw you moan, the more he saw you squirm.. the more he desired you. his wet muscle picked up the pace as he licked and sucked hungrily, eating you out like a starved man.. the sounds of slurping and licking were evident. each moan that escaped from your mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through him; he wanted nothing more than your release. on his face.

before you could say anything, your hand flung onto your mouth as your eyes were sewn shut, squirting on his face with a sense of relief. “.. ah.. ah? oh my god.. i’m so sorry!” blade only scoffed at your apology, bringing his hand to wipe his face as he eagerly lapped up the remaining mess on your pussy, savouring your taste while watching you tremble underneath him. a satisfied grin spread wide across his face. “that’s what i was hoping for.”

“.. huh?”

“your release. your release on my face. my.. good luck charm for the performance today.”

ugh.. seriously, you really need to put a leash on this man, or he’ll eat you out every few minutes before his performances. well.. not like you’d mind anyway.

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - part 5

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others

oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫

view comments

user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??

yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri

user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??

user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??

oscarpiastri oh my goddd

oscarpiastri 😍😍

user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji

yourusername not even i can😕😕

oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands

user81 that dog is so stinking cute

user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS

user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri

user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri

user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln

yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri

yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you

yourusername he loves me🥰🥰

oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!

oscarpiastri 📍location home

liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others

my favorite lady in my favorite place

view comments

user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭

user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭

user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri

user84 i will never ever get tired of them

user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri

user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️

yourusername my babyyyy

yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🩷🩷

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others

the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.

sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.

maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more

im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate you the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another

six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely

view comments

oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating

oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you

oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise

oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more

yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵

user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading

user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet

user62 my parents everyone!!!

user53 is that an engagement ring?!

user33 wait pause

user5 theres no way right??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others

you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it

happy six years and to a lifetime more

view comments

yourusername you are so so incredible

yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you

oscarpiastri i love you too

user66 they are sooooo

user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears

user56 you just dont get them like i do

user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful

yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️

user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭

user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love

user48 guys are they engaged or not😭

yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri

user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others

text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri added to their story

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others

text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️

twitter

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

[landoslvr]

MRS CLARKEY | g. clarke

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs clarkey'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x george clarke

faceclaim: steph hui

notes: first piece for mrs george out of the wag universe. steph is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs clarkey, hopefully you like it! this is the longest one I've done so far.. definitely want to do a fic for their first meeting and for the useless hotline podcast- maybe even the ski trip!

liked by user, user and 37,923 others

yourinstagram happy halloween 💋💋

view all 281 comments

user you're literally so hot y/n

user I want to be you so bad

user how can I look like that

user jeez u flexible or something baby?

user the dress? the hair? the makeup??? unreal

yourinstagram thank you!! I did it myself xxx

user shes godly

user have fun tonight!!

user she's the only girl I know to have an impromptu photoshoot and then go out drinking

yourinstagram gotta take the outfit for a spin!!!

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 58,283 others

georgeclarkeey you should've seen the other guy!

view all 198 comments

user george wth

user its the vomit on the cheerleading outfit for me

chrismd10 looking good mate

wroetoshaw nice eyebrow....... eyebrow singular

georgeclarkeey yes I got that thank you

user AS IF Y/N FOUND HIM ON HER NIGHT OUT

user I KNOW!! I came from her tweets after everyone tagging this guy

chrismd10 you getting referred to as 'this guy' on your own post is so funny to me

georgeclarkeey well, you're huge aren't you?

imallexx loving the new look mate

user waiting for y/n to join the comments 🫣

user me too 😶😶

yourinstagram its great to know what you look like with both of your eyebrows george! a pleasure to have met you, despite the circumstances...

georgeclarkeey my left eyebrow was too intimidated by seeing betty boop in the flesh it ran away!

user my heart 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, max_balegde and 37,192 others

yourinstagram went on the useless hotline podcast this week to talk about me saving the george clarke! thank you very much for having me boys 🤍

view all 302 comments

user she's just so pretty

user as if model queen y/n saved youtuber george clarke 😭 not over that at all

georgeclarkeey always a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime you feel like scraping me off of the pavement

yourinstagram anytime you need me, I'll be there to call the ambulance

user LOVE that coat

georgeclarkeey also feeling something.. or someone.. is missing from this post?

yourinstagram idk what you want from me here clarke

max_balegde ahhhhhh!!!!!! such a pleasure to meet the woman that singlehandedly saved my co-host from death <3 thanks so much for coming on, martini besties for life now

yourinstagram call me anytime you need multiple olives!!!

max_balegde three olives, extra dry!!

user stop I hope they all stay friends 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 39,219 others

yourinstagram casual 'saved your life/face' dinner post

view all 331 comments

user nahhhhhhhhh because this is a date

user y/n looks so good 😭😭

user lets not ignore George Clarke wearing something other than a t-shirt

chrismd10 impressed you managed to get him in slacks!

georgeclarkeey your mum brought them for me

user THAT DRESS

user I just wanna be you y/n

user George has major cake its not funny

max_balegde literally should be criminal

georgeclarkeey you saved my life I am eternally grateful

yourinstagram 👽👽👽

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 40,938 others

yourinstagram visiting the mountain tops with some new friends x

view all 370 comments

user bitch we know that's george clarkey, fess up

max_balegde the love of my life really tbh, you look sooooo good

yourinstagram max I'll cry

user drop the link for the jackets!!

user that is george clarke's watch missy

user so you just so happen to be on a ski trip at the same time at george and his friends?????????? coincidence? I think NOT

user I know george is using ever fibre of his being not to comment on this right now

liked by yourinstagrm, miniminter and 59,902 others

georgeclarkeey there's 'snow' way it's this cold in the mountains

view all 286 comments

user Y/N TAKE OF THE SKI MASK COWARD

user we literally know it's her

chrismd10 handsome fellas

user literally just tell us you're dating guys

wroetoshaw high altitude my friend

user love these pics of the boys together

arthurtv distinguished skiers and snowboarders

charliehutchens really good ones too

user do you think y/n had to throw her phone out of her hotel room to stop herself from commenting?

user yes, yes I do

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and 37,981 others

yourinstagram out and about ✈️🗺️

view all 320 comments

user should we tell y/n that she posted a picture of George in the 4th slide and then proceeded to cut his head out of the 6th one????

user let her live in peace I guess

user wow no one is immune to stupidity these days 😭

user can't believe they took her so young

georgeclarkeey you're not getting that poster back

yourinstagram if you dont return my harry styles poster I will sue

georgeclarkeey I live with a lawyer, so good luck with that darling

user DARLING???? LITERALLY JUST PUNCH ME IN THE FACE NEXT TIME GEORGE

liked by yourinstagram, stephentries and 61,192 others

georgeclarkeey chris informed us that you all know we're dating so no more discreet photo dumps I guess?

view all 401 comments

user WAR IS OVERRRRRR

user quick everyone act like we didn't see this shit coming

user the way he tried to do her dirty in the last 3 pics but he literally can't

user she's just so pretty

user I wanna be her

max_balegde mrs clarkey!!!!!!

yourinstagram !!!!!

chrismd10 you're so welcome mate

user she's so gorgeous

user kills me

user george x y/n girlies won today

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍 love you big stupid idiot 🤍🤍🤍 once I posted the invisalign it was over..

georgeclarkeey guys gotta eat

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurfhill and 43,938 others

yourinstagram casual 'I can finally post my boyfriend' post!!!!

view all 493 comments

user guys I love today

user this makes me so happy

chrismd10 the power of drunken lime bike rides!

yourinstagram thank you lime bikes

user the alien picture kills me

max_balegde can't wait to have you back on the pod as mrs clarkey

yourinstagram a promotion, for me???

user george is so cute, I envy y/n!

arthurtv it's about time tbh

user I've been waiting for this one

georgeclarkeey was worth losing half of an eyebrow I guess

yourinstagram maybe the eyebrows were the friends we made along the way?

[berrieluv]

james doesn't know. oral sex (fem receiving), cheating? idk. public sex too.

For Remus and the rest of the Marauders; James was untouchable. The boy has done too much for them to ever go against his wishes. And that was the reason why Remus hanged out with James annoying girlfriend without a word.

Except for maybe the times he snapped against you. But James laughed about it, it seemed playful enough for him or the rest to let it slip. And for James, Remus would do anything. Absolutely anything.

Remus could never face James, and he was a complete goner for his girlfriend, so Remus had no option but to bare her.

James and Remus were animately chatting on the common room when you arrived, Remus rolled his eyes at the sight of you and you frowned in annoyance. James, your sweet and loving boyfriend smiled, dragging you to his lap and kissing your lips deeply as you were getting comfortable.

James then keeps his talk with Remus, smiling occasionally, a few seconds later his hand makes its way through your thighs, his finger circling the fabric of your underwear over your clit, pulling out a moan out of you as you tried to hide on his neck.

"So, as I was telling you, James..." Remus continued as James made his way to your pussy with his fingers.

"Remus" James called, taking you by surprise and spreading your legs on his lap, "Taste it"

"What?"

"What?"

Both of you asked incredulous at the same time, James smirked in response and kissed you for a few seconds.

"Maybe that's what you need to stop being... so defensive with each other" James' fingers caresses your folds as he smirks at Remus. "Come on, don't you get all shy on me now" He chuckles.

Remus breaths are heavy but he kneels in front of you, crawling to your pussy, his hot breath against your flesh while he looked at your pussy as a starved wolf.

James hands hold your legs open as Remus' tongue finally finds its place inside your cunt.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" James asks Remus, he is clamped tight between you, Remus moved his tongue as a starved, possessed man, he didn't think he would enjoy this as much. Hell, he didn't even think he wanted to do this.

"Do you like it, baby?" James asked you with a soft smile and leaned down to kiss you. Your moans were silent against his lips and you were fucking lucky no one tried to enter or walk through the common room because you don't think you'll find the strength to put Remus away.

Remus suctioned your clit when his fingers found their way inside of you. You were completely wet and Remus used his lips as a straw in your cunt. Your walls were clenching around his fingers.

When you orgasmed in his mouth, it yet wasn't enough for Remus to stop, James put a hand on your abdomen to hold you tight against him, trying to keep you still on his lap.

"So?" James asked when Remus pulled away "Are you gonna keep hating each other?"

[rationaliity]

massage | dr ratio blurb

1.5k words about giving ratio a massage because you're his partner and you love him. that's it. that's the post. there's nothing else i can say about that. purely self indulgent sweetness there's nothing else for me to add. reader is gender neutral, and referred to by him and themselves as veritas' partner. i wrote wayyy too much about such a simple concept but what are you gonna do ? lock me up ? i dare you.

you knew how veritas liked to wind down for the night. after a few years being married to him, you've figured out the routine by now. you can tell he's starting to get tired when he sits his book down and nods off a little in his chair. you have to gently shake him awake, or call out to him a few times before suggesting that maybe it's time for bed, that you're the one getting sleepy, not him. and then, finally, he'll sigh and tell you that he still has so much work left for him to do, but he supposes that he should humor you for a little while.

he'll get up, and trudge his way to your shared bathroom and begin to get ready for the night. he takes off his robes and puts them up on a hanger, and taking off his gold accessories, including his adornment and chain that went around his neck, and his laurel accessory. after unbuttoning the top button of his vest, he takes off his contacts and puts on his glasses because he's as blind as a bat without them.

and of course, then you come in. you'd change out of your day out and into your pajamas, which was usually just a tank top and a pair of underwear, and then you would make your way to the bathroom where veritas was in the middle of his routine, probably brushing his teeth. you would brush out your hair and make sure that you had taken off any makeup - and probably remind him to take off his eyeliner, too. you were usually trying to get a good look at yourself while behind him in the mirror, often ducking or tilting to the side so you could see yourself.

after brushing your teeth, were were mostly done, save for whatever skincare you did at night. and then you would glance at veritas, your eyes raking over his body, and you would snake your arms around his torso, your head against his back. " you look so nice, veritas, " you would mumble against the fabric of his vest, pressing a soft kiss against his back. " this is my favorite veritas. the guy with grandpa glasses and messy hair who snores at night. "

veritas stifled a laugh, finishing brushing his teeth and rinsing out the minty foam from his mouth before turning around, his arms lazily hanging off of your shoulders. " i suppose its only natural you have your favorites, just as i have mine, " he whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half smile, the exhaustion evident on his face. " although, i must admit, it's amusing to see you try to seduce me while i'm half dressed. "

" is it working ? " you asked teasingly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, leaning into his touch. you could see the tiredness in his eyes, the way he could hardly keep his eyes open even as he shared such an intimate moment with you.

" it's.. charming, " he admits, his voice low and even, and he couldn't stop the small sigh of contentment that spilled from his lips as you kissed him. he knew that you enjoyed these intimate moments, and he'd found himself growing rather accustomed to them too, despite his penchant for a busier, more active lifestyle. but you knew something the world didn't, you saw the warmth in his icy facade that veritas presented to the world as dr. ratio.

" how about i charm you some more, veritas ? " you asked, smiling softly at him, knowing just what he needed. this was the time for your care to shine through, something that honestly didn't happen often enough. " how about a massage, doctor ? " you purred, your eyes glimmering with a longing to please him in a way that only you could. " let me indulge you, dearest dr. ratio. " you only ever used the title dr. ratio in two situations : when you're a guest speaker in his lecture room, and when you're trying to deliberately provoke him into your little games, just so he would let you take care of him for a little while. and it was working splendidly

" you know i've never been one for massages.. " he hums, allowing his voice to trail off as he thought about your little offer. finally, he gave a little sigh, too tired to protest much. " but perhaps, just this once, i might make an exception for you. "

you smiled, taking his hand, as well as a bottle of his favorite scented lotion, leading him towards the bed. once he was laying on his stomach on the bed, his vest long gone, you really had the chance to enjoy his body in a mostly nonsexual way. you sat on his butt with your legs straddling either side of him, hovering over his vulnerable form. you squirted the lotion on your hands, warming it up between your fingers before you began to work on massaging his shoulders. veritas let out a soft grunt as your skilled fingers worked through the knots in his muscles, finding himself relaxing under your ministrations.

your touch was firm and yet gentle, knowing that you would have to be a little rough with him to get out particularly tight tension knots in his muscles. massaging the expanse of his back, you found yourself completely thrown into the little side mission of pleasing your husband that you gave yourself. " when was the last time you had a massage, dear ? " you asked gently, your fingers trailing down his spine, pressing into his skin to work through the tension. " you should let me take care of you more often. you know i enjoy helping you out, you've just gotta ask your lovely partner for help sometimes. "

" i can't recall. perhaps its been far too long, " he mused out loud, his voice deep and grumbly as he closed his eyes, his head in his arms while he enjoyed this moment with you. he knew you well enough by now to know that you weren't talking about just giving him a massage when he needed to relax. you were also extending yourself to comforting him, or supporting him through his endeavors. you'd be there to listen and offer a shoulder to lean on should he need it. and although he may not say it verbally, he couldn't help but appreciate your unwavering support more than you could ever know.

" you know i'm always here, veritas, " your voice was inexplicably warm and loving as you massaged his back, feeling him relax so much more underneath your touch, your every move melting the stress from his body. " i always will be. "

" i wouldn't expect anything less from my beautiful partner, " he chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his arms. there's a note of admiration in his voice, a rare glimpse of vulnerability revealing itself beneath the layers of his typically stoic demeanor. he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him. for all of his faults and flaws, this is where he found his solace; in the quite moments shared with you. the world fades away gradually to him, leaving only the two of you together.

in this moment, he's not dr. ratio, the scholar within the intelligentsia guild, nor the doctor working tirelessly to save his patient's lives. he's got no doctoral under his belt that taught him to how to love, and yet he found himself doing so effortlessly with you. he was simply veritas, a man basking in the comfort and love of his partner. as you work your magic on his tense muscles, he lets his thoughts drift aimlessly. veritas lies there, basking in your tender touch, and he can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

you smiled when you began to hear the soft, familiar sounds of his snoring. you stopped for a moment, looking over his features. his hair was messy and in his face, his eyes closed, and there's no negative emotions on his face. he wasn't angry, or stressed, or worried. he looked peaceful, and happy. you picked yourself up, walking over to grab a towel to clean your hands from some of the lotion. the sound of his snoring became almost like a lullaby to you, a signal that something went right, that you had done something right. you wiped off the remaining lotion from his back, putting the towel on his bedside table before leaning over to him.

you paused, taking in his features up close, before gently brushing his hair out of his face, your hand resting on the top of his head before you gently kissed his cheek. " i love you, veritas. not the man you present yourself as, but the man that you are when no one else is looking. " you knew that underneath his many layers, veritas was a man who wasn't so different from everyone else after all. he was inherently kind, although stubborn in his ways, something that you had grown to love about him.

as you settled in beside him for the night, you couldn't help but think that you were the luckiest one in the room.