#comfort colors black tee

[sunsetsimon]

more random simon headcanons <3

☼ his favorite colors are black, blue, and grey. his personal style is very plain, black hoodies, white tee's, and black sweatpants are his go to. simon doesn't want to stand out any more than he already does with his large frame, so he opts for comfort over style.

☼ simon is very helpful around the house, constantly tidying up and fixing anything with a problem. he has no issue doing the dishes or folding the laundry, but for some reason he hates sweeping and mopping? you don't get it, it's not an intense or demanding chore, but simon claims that "it's too boring" and he'd rather trade something else with you. it becomes an agreement for him to do most things in the room, and then you come in after to finish with a quick sweep and mop.

☼ he's extremely low maintenance. he always buys the cheapest products he sees, opting for a basic body wash and 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner. when you first started dating, he didn't even own a proper face wash, using the bar of soap from his shower. simon isn't the type to have a whole routine, but he does pay more attention to the things he purchases so he can impress you with a new scented body wash or a moisturizer you'd mentioned.

one of his favorite gifts to ever receive from you is a bottle of cologne, loving the way you're drawn to him every time he gives himself a spritz. now every christmas he asks you to get him a new one that you'd like him to wear!

☼ cannot handle spice for the life of him. we all know that foods in the UK are usually seasoned with just salt and pepper, and not commonly spicy, so he's sensitive to it. something you may consider mild will have him breaking into a sweat and chugging down a bottle of water to ease some of the burn. his cheeks get flushed red and he just shakes his head in pain, reminding himself to never trust you when you say "oh it's not that spicy!" ever again.

☼ he has the lowest screen time, averaging about 20-30 minutes a day, and that time is spent either texting/calling you, taking photos of you, looking through photos of you, or making lists for you. the only extra app he has downloaded is goodreads, and even then you were the one that downloaded it and created his account. his passcode is set as your birthday too of course.

he's a little obsessed.

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: peircer eren x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, kinda pervy eren

Good girl

“Hello?” Your soft voice rang over the chimes as you entered the tattoo parlor.

The shop was quiet, seemingly empty besides the softening chimes of the door and surprised cursing down the long hall.

“Shit- yeah. Just give me a minute. My apologies” The culprit of the cursing called.

In the meantime, you took a look around the lobby. The reviews didn't do the place justice. The largest wall contained a bright colorful mural, contrasting beautifully with the dark floors and connected black walls.

While admiring the piece of artwork, heavy thudding from the long hallway turned your attention to the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

You never believed in love at first sight, up until now. You hadn't even known the man's name yet, but you craved him. The reviews warned you the entire staff was attractive but they clearly left out that this man was a god.

His long hair was pulled into a low bun, strands falling in his face, the color contrasting against his pale skin. He was tall, with a full sleeve on one of his muscular arms, and his green eyes had you drowning immediately. He couldn't be Onyankopon, they said he was a brother. Maybe Connie or, Levi-

“Hi, I'm Eren” He introduced himself after swallowing the large knot in his throat.

While in your own trance, you failed to notice how he froze the moment he saw you. The bright light you stood under showcased the sparkles of your pretty brown skin.

Your legs were on display as a result of the simmering heat outside, thick thighs causing them to roll up slightly. The fitted t-shirt you wore allowed the hardened buds of your nipples to peek through, despite the hot weather.

Eren never considered himself a pervert but the way his mind instantly thought about sucking on them till you begged him to fuck you had him thinking otherwise.

“Hi, I'm [☆]. Is this a bad time?” Oh, he could have come on the spot, your voice sounded even better without the numerous walls separating you and god your perfume had him wanting to devour you on the reception desk.

“No, no I just don't know how much I can do for you, the AC is out in all the rooms but mine and I don't even know how long that's gonna last so if you're looking for an hour long tat session you'll have to come back” He crossed his arms, muscles contracting against the white tee.

“Oh no, I'm just hoping to get a few piercings but I can definitely come back another time”

“No, I can do a couple of piercings. What were you thinking?” He grabbed the paperwork from under the counter, praying one of them would be your chest.

“Uh well, I want the other side of my nose, belly button, venus dimples, and my nipples but I understand if you can't do all of that or the last one I'll just come back”

“No, no I can do it,” He said too quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly before handing you the paperwork.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“Good girl. You're doing such a good job for me, pretty. Just hold on for one second, lovey”

He was currently doing your last dimple piercing. The pain was unimaginable at first but as soon as the praises left his mouth all was forgotten besides the growing stickiness that rested between your thighs.

He praised you after every piercing a variation of “Good girl” “You're doing such a good job for me” “That's it, baby. You did so good” flowed from his pink lips. You could never decide which throbbing to focus on, the one from your new piercing or the throbbing of your clit.

With three new holes in your body and damp panties, it was now time for the piercing both of you were dreading yet excited for.

“Do I just take my shirt off here?”

“Wherever you're comfortable, baby. You can go in the bathroom or stay in here and I'll give you some privacy” He felt like a teenage boy again. His dick twitching at the thought of seeing you exposed.

“No, it's okay you can stay in here I don't mind”

“Oh. Okay,” He perked up. Giving you some privacy he turned his back, pretending to be busy when in reality he was trying to think of anything but you getting undressed behind him. Despite his concentration, all he could focus on was the sound of your necklaces and bracelets clanking at the movements you made.

He knew your nipples were still hard, especially since he took advantage of the working AC and he wondered what your moans would sound like if he flicked his tounge repeatedly over the bud, or if he pinched them in front of the mirror while you begged him to fuck you as you pressed your ass against his hard-

“I'm ready” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts.

If his self control was any less he'd have gotten on his knees to worship you. There you were. Looking everywhere but him, tits exposed. If it weren’t for the fact other men besides him would see, he'd tattoo this image of you on his bare forearm.

“Are you ready?” He suppressed a groan.

“Mhm”

“Okay stand up for me” He led you to the mirror where he prepped each bud. During the process, you felt as if you could crawl into yourself. The most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on had his hands on your breast. Despite the occasion being nonsexual, you were convinced your arousal would start running down your thigh at any second.

“Is this okay?” He stood behind you.

You gave a simple hum of approval, thoughts gone as he explained how the process would go. You convinced yourself you could handle it, that it would all be over soon.

That was until he rolled the bud in between his fingers, the whimper you'd been holding escaping you.

‘fuck’ ‘fuck’

“Shit, I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to do that, please understand I had no malicious intentions I just” He stumbled over his words.

He was just explaining the step by step process of the piercing. He wasn't thinking, just craving. He wouldn't have realized his actions if it weren't for the sound you let out. The sound he knew he'd replay in his head the moment you left the shop, stroking his cock as he imagined it were you down on your knees in front of him.

“It's okay” You reassured him. Your big eyes staring up into his through the mirror.

“I didn't…I don't mind”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Before you knew it you were bouncing on his cock. His moans muffled as his mouth engulfed your breast. Tongue slightly grazing your nipple with the flickers of his tongue before sucking harshly.

He was stretching you out so good, leaky red tip repeatedly hitting your cervix as his frenum piercing brushed against your walls. The added pleasure contributing to the pace of your bounces as you chased your high.

“E-eren please” You whined, attempting to push his head away from the assault on your breast. His hair was everywhere, the ponytail holder long gone the moment your hands entangled in his hair. Your buds were so sensitive, every suck and swipe of his tongue had you squeezing around him, every clench releasing your cream that pooled at the base of his cock.

“Fuck” He groaned, reluctantly giving your boobs a break. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, groping the brown skin before placing a hard slap on your cheek.

“Talk to me, pretty. You like this? Like bouncing on daddy's cock hmm?” His arms wrapped around you tightly as he fucked up into you.

“Oh my- fuck” You gave him control. Your head resting on his shoulder as you let out pornographic moans into his ear.

“Answer me, mama” Another slap landed on your ass.

Before you had time to register the mix of pain and pleasure on your flesh, the gentle pressure of his finger rubbing circles on your puckering hole had you seeing stars.

“Fuck y-yes. I love it so much, daddy. Please don't stop” You whined. Tears of pleasure wetting the crook of his neck.

By no means was Eren a fast finisher but boy was he trying his best to hold on, you're pussy was just squeezing him so tight, the added tension on his scalp as you tugged on it every time he hit the spongy spot along your walls had his nails digging crescents into your skin.

“I'm so close, daddy, please”

“Let go mama” He pressed hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

In that moment you came, your pussy tightening around the large girth of his cock. Clear liquid squirting from you in streams as he continued his thrust. Your arousal splashing and dripping onto the chair.

With sweat dripping down his forehead, and stray hairs sticking to him, his thrust became sloppy and his breathing became heavier.

“S-shit” He whimpered, head thrown back as he came harder than ever. Repeatedly pushing his load back into your pussy.

“Lemme take you on a date. Please” He panted once you both came down, his hands roaming your body as he looked down at you, green irises peeking out behind his blown pupils.

“Okay, yea- oh” A broken moan escaped you as he moved your hips up and down his length once again.

“Eren” You whined

“Don't tell me you're wiped out after one round, pretty girl. I know you have more in you, mama. Be a good girl for daddy”

for my eren girlies. this is probably the fastest I've ever wrote bc i just needed peircer eren. oh also how do yall feel about pegging bc i feel peircer eren can be a bit subby sometimes ttm. mwah <3

pt.2 wit the pegging ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶꒱ྀི১

[seeminglydark]

A look-book and little break-down of Caro’s style and fashion Journey. I didn’t include their cheer uniform or GasCo uniform because those really didn’t influence their actual style much, other than the Varsity jacket and work jacket. I thought it would be fun to set it up almost like a magazine article and I’m in love with the results. I hope you enjoy it too. (The cover is my fave thing ever, just so you know.)

Here’s the Text:

Caro Greene, Cheerleader to Ghosthunter! An exclusive look at superstar Caro Greene’s style evolution. From femme to them!

The Teenage Years! Caro has been aware the high-femme style their parents chose for them was not the look they wanted for a long time, but didn’t know how to address it. Pairing their best friends tee-shirt over their Prom dress was the first step in figuring out their own personal style! From there, they tested out the route of borrowed too-big sweaters whenever they weren’t under the watchful eye of their family.

GasCo Era! Years of emotional neglect build until Caro chops off their hair, an asset more important to their parents than their happiness, and finds themself abruptly homeless, with nothing but some jeans, shirts and an oversized jacket belonging to their long-gone boyfriend. They get a job at the local gas station, and are gifted a new jacket that fits, with their new name on it, in their favorite color! More gender exploration leads them to a better haircut, and their first time trying a binder, and starting to not hate how they look.

Thrift stores, Sneakers, and T! Now in a new environment with supportive people at the GasCo, Caro discovers thrift stores and the tacky ‘80s aesthetic of their dreams. After years of other people controlling their body and looks, starting on low T is a big step in taking back control. They start wearing crop tops and sleeveless tees to show off new body hair, but also love chunky colored sweaters since they’re always cold. Sneakers go with everything, and when you’re short, the possibilities are endless in the kids shoes section.

Mil-Liminal! Caro’s podcast Mil-Liminal goes viral, and they are given the choice of staying faceless and anonymous, or taking the stage in live shows. They decide to do a face reveal, and that means choosing an iconic ‘look’ for their live performances. They choose their favorite color, GasCo Purple, and a jacket that is a blend of their varsity jacket and GasCo work jacket, two clothing pieces that always made them comfortable. They wear their trans identity on their sleeve, and top it off with the snapback look they donned years ago on their first venture ‘out’ as a teenager. The rest is history!

Current Caro! Which brings us to the present! There’s been some small changes, oversized sweaters and tees with a cosmic theme, which is new for the usually spookified Caro. They’re sporting white hair instead of their trademark blond, and have added a cross earring and a pendant to their Mil-Liminal uniform. A black snapback shows up as often as the purple one, and there’s a new bounce in their step, but perhaps they’ve just been indulging in too much coffee these days.

Caro Green is from my webcomics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal, and podcast Mil-Liminal.

[cunninghamchrissie]

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO EDDIE MUNSON'S FASHION

let’s get one thing straight: just because a guy has long hair and wears black doesn’t mean he’s channeling eddie munson.

eddie is a heavy metal and thrash metal fan, and those genres come with their own distinct style—one that doesn’t exactly play nice with other fashion trends.

when talking about “thrashshion,” the essentials are blue or black jeans (ripped, usually), band tees with the sleeves cut off, flannel shirts, leather jackets, denim jackets, and vests. and for shoes, high-top, white basketball sneakers. everything is form-fitting—baggy clothes need not apply.

and for the record, if you’re thinking eddie would throw on some nail polish or eyeliner to complete the look, think again. thrash fans loathe that. as for the hair, the messier, the better. no hairspray or products—just a wild, untamed mess.

accessories are kept minimal but make a statement: big silver rings with skulls, pigs or other creatures, bullet belts, sweatbands, and maybe a discreet hoop earring or two. and let’s not forget the bandana in the back pocket (just for style, and no, it doesn’t carry any hidden meaning unless you believe james hetfield is secretly gay), a wallet chain, and pins on jackets.

the vibe is casual and comfortable—there's no issue wearing a bit of color, sweatpants, or shorts in the summer. while boots aren't the go-to, they do show up from time to time, especially when it’s cold. layering is key, though: think denim, flannel, leather, and sweatshirts.

so, here’s the deal: if the guy you’re looking at doesn’t fit this description, then sorry, he’s just not giving eddie munson vibes.

[venusiancharisma]

Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

[dc418writes]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + pinned down + “Fuck, sweetheart, I love it when you whine so pretty for me.”

*incomprehensible screeching* ok ok calm down self no pressure 👀 lol but thank you Siri for this prompt! And all who read I hope you like what I came up with☺️!

Mine

✨Pairing✨: ex!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: As luck would have it, your ex is there to save you from a creep. Some coincidence right?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, soft/dark-dark elements, mention of sexual harassment, violence (man-man), unprotected adult happy funny times (please be safe everyone!), fingering, breeding kink, mention of alcohol, a couple bad language words

Your once pleasant buzz has since been replaced by a dull headache as you sit in the middle of your ex’s king sized bed. One of his shirts - smelling a mix of his cologne and detergent - covering your freshly washed body after the small bar brawl left the front of your top and skirt soaked with beer.

Every few minutes your mind wanders back to that moment where the “kind” and charming stranger showed his true colors. His touches becoming unwanted while trapping you against the bar and ignoring your protests. If it wasn’t for Ari, quickly yanking the hazel-eyed man away from you before his fist was soon meeting his cheek, you’re sure you’d be stuck somewhere and missing for God knows how long.

Maybe even worse.

A light knock on the door has a small smile curling on your lips seeing Ari in the doorway. His muscular body nearly taking up the entire space standing in his black sweats and some worn looking band tee.

“Hey, you feel alright?,” he asks and you nod. “Need anything?”

“No, just tired.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You didn’t want him out there though. In your current state - emotionally vulnerable and unable to get the events out of your mind - you wanted him next to you. To not be alone for tonight at least.

“C-Can you stay? Please?,” you call after him halting any further movement out of the doorway. With that tilted smile you still loved, he was soon removing his shirt and joining you under his sheets.

“Of course sweetheart.”

His thick arm wrapped around your middle with your back against his front, it was like old times how instantly safe and comfortable you felt. How you fit together so well, it was as if you’d never even broken up in the first place. And when his nose bumps behind your ear barely touching one of your special spots, that familiar flip returns to your stomach as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night Ari,” you whisper, but you already know sleep is a far off concept from your highly active brain still focused on the bar. Trying to force you into reliving every detail as if helping you study for your own exam.

So many minutes pass of just feeling the air from Ari’s nostrils against your neck and hearing cars run by that you’ve accepted you probably won’t be sleeping tonight.

“That pretty head’s going a mile a minute again huh?,” he asks slightly startling you thinking he was asleep this whole time.

“You can tell?” He nods and you can feel the gentle scratching of his beard on your skin.

“Your pulse is a bit high; not to mention your body’s tense. Not as relaxed as I know you wanna be.”

He was always so intuitive with you. Knowing how you were feeling or if you were off without you having to even say a word. It was honestly scary sometimes how he was there with what you needed before it could cross your own mind.

“Why am I not surprised? Spot on as always,” you softly chuckle.

“Because I know you sweetheart,” he replies placing a chaste kiss to that sweet spot behind your ear. “Know all about this body. What goes on in your mind.”

His voice in your ear as his hand slowly drifts from under you and down your abdomen to the front of your thigh has you beginning to squirm. An ache quickly forming between your legs you want him to erase.

His fingertips trace a slow circle just centimeters from that junction as his lips create their own steady path down the column of your neck to your shoulder. It’s a tortuous buildup you wish he didn’t enjoy so much.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yea?”

“Please,” you shamefully beg anticipating his touch where you needed most.

And he doesn’t disappoint placing your leg over his so you were spread wide for him. His middle finger immediately dipping in your needy core and dragging just right you couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Still so tight after all this time. We can work around that though can’t we?”

By the time he was done - having readied you with two orgasms - you were already in a mindless haze only capable of babbling incoherent noises, “please”, and Ari’s name.

Exactly how he wanted you as he pushed your thighs up against your chest keeping them in place with his wide upper half while his hands pinned yours over your head. You were now completely at his use as he slowly began to push into you with a low groan and silent curses how you gripped him so tight.

“Ari please,” you whined. Head lulling to the side to lie on your arm. “Need you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love when you whine so pretty for me,” he finishes with a gasp finally pushing to the hilt. For your sake, he tries to start slow, but the feel of you clinching around him and all the sweet noises you’re making, it doesn’t take long for that rhythm to quicken. The squeaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping soon taking over your moans and panting.

“Mm don’t stop!”

He moans nipping at your bottom lip. “I’m the only one that can take care of you. Knows all your spots that make you dumb. Isn’t that right?”

Ari takes your whine as a yes, smirking as his mouth finds yours in a heated and numbing kiss.

“Because you’re mine sweetheart.” His pace quickens and you shriek as your release squirts to the sheets below. It only spurs him more moaning as he feels his own release approaching. “Always have been, shit, always will be.”

You want to whine and push him away with your new sensitivity and puffy folds that feel raw, but that blissed out cloud just keeps lifting you higher and higher that you don’t want to come down.

“And everyone’s gonna know it too seeing you with our little baby bump. Gonna be the best mama to our babies.” The thought of you carrying a mini version of the both of you pushes him over the edge moaning his release as you have one last one of your own feeling him fill you up with deep ruts wanting it to stick as deep as it could go.

Finally meeting that blissful high with you, a tired chuckle leaves his lips as he kisses all along your sweaty face. You’re pleasantly knocked out - mouth slightly parted - as he carefully lifts up so your legs can be stretched out again. Although soft, he doesn’t pull out; instead staying buried deep so none of him can escape.

Plus having you wrapped around him so snug, occasionally pulsing and clinching, it’s better than any blanket he could ever buy.

“Now, if only you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he whispers before leaving one last peck on your temple.

HiredHelp: I said only one punch! (sent 12:29 am)

HiredHelp: That’s an extra 2K (sent 12:30 am)

HiredHelp: 5K in my account by tomorrow or we meet again very soon (sent 12:30 am)

So for those who’ve read my works over the years, this is definitely a bit of new territory for me (soft/dark-dark and smut) so hopefully it’s not cringe🫣. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for this prompt and for allowing me to play☺️! Also sorry if this is longer than a standard drabble lol

[colebabey888]

The IT Girl Wardrobe Essentials | IT GIRL DIARIES

Creating the perfect IT Girl wardrobe is all about mixing timeless classics with a touch of trendy pieces for an effortlessly stylish look. The key is to build a closet filled with versatile staples while adding fun, fashion-forward items that show off your personality.

Here’s how to put together a wardrobe starting on your It Girl Journey :

The Magic of Basics 🎀

Every It Girl knows the importance of having great basics. Start with simple, well-fitting pieces, something similar to a plain white/black tee, a pair of skinny jeans or mom jeans ( skinny jeans are always trendy if you know how to style them ) .These items will be easy to mix and match, giving you endless outfit options. They can be dressed up or down and that's exactly the type of clothing items you want to have.

The Perfect Pair of Jeans 🎀

When it comes to my denims, I don't mess around! Invest in a good few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly. Quality over quantity! Levi, Pacsun, REVICE Denim, these are are all examples on companies that sell high quality denims. Classic skinny or straight-leg jeans/mom jeans are super versatile and go with almost everything. It's never a bad idea to keep a few light denims around either but go with what fits your skin tone best. To keep things trendy, try experimenting with ripped jeans or wide-leg styles, but make sure to always have a classic pair for everyday wear. If you're going for a more classy/clean look, I would skip out in the spontaneous ripped jeans.

The Little Black Dress (LBD) 🎀

A little black dress is a closet essential for every It Girl. Whether you’re heading to a party or going out to dinner, the LBD is always a chic choice. Pick one that’s simple and elegant, so you can easily dress it up or down with accessories. There's nothing more to it, a simple black dress will do it for any occasion, any time of day!

Cute and Comfortable Shoes 🎀

Comfortable yet stylish shoes are a must. Make sure you have classic white sneakers, cute ankle boots for your rainy days , and a pair of strappy heels. On a hot sunny day, I love a good pair of black thong sandals, they pull every look together and give off the perfect touch of a 2000's vibe. Skinny jeans or a sundress, paired with good accessories and a handbag, black thongs for the win always.

Balancing Trends with Classics 🎀

The secret to It Girl style is blending your wardrobe basics with trendy pieces. Each season, pick a few fun items like a patterned scarf, oversized sunglasses, or a bold handbag to keep your outfits fresh and exciting.

The Power of Accessories 🎀

Accessories can really make your outfit pop! Invest in timeless pieces like gold hoop earrings, a simple watch. Then, mix in trendy items like layered necklaces, fun belts, or colorful purses to add personality to your look.

By building your wardrobe with these essentials and mixing in a few trendy pieces, you’ll achieve the perfect IT Girl style—chic, fun, and always effortlessly stylish. My style is definitely changing and upgrading every year so there will most likely be a part 2 of this next year. These are just a few tips and tricks I've picked up on throughout my It Girl journey so far, but we're are learning so if you have any tips yourself feel free to dump them in the comments, mwah!

xoxo, COLEBABEY8.88

[bubsmiraculousau]

These r my first brainstorm pages for the ot5 civillian miraculous designs! Some of their styles I imagine would shift throughout the hypothetical series, esp Adrien and Marinette.

Adrien dresses like a little businessman, preppy in the most direct sense of the word, was taught to dress well to leave a good impression. Gabriel believes that every man should just wear a suit all the time, so Adrien's sweaters and khakis are a compromise. He basically only wears neutrals.

Marinette dresses in mainly pink, but dabbles in other colors as well. I think she would always have some kind of comfortable fabric on, and customizes her clothing with embroidery and things like that. I think she also just likes all the rainbow colors too.

Chloe is a true y2k girlie, Megan Fox's character's outfits from confessions of a teenage drama queen is her vibe. Blue, yellow, brown/beige, b&w, are her main vibe.

Ngl I have no idea what to do with Nino he just dresses like a guy. I think he's the most comfortable in looser clothing. I try to incorporate green into his outfits to tie into the turtle miraculous and him being friends with Adrien. His in-show design literally has like every color in it probably to tie all the characters into each other but it kills me to draw that lol. I'm much better with designing women's clothes...

Alya has tumblr girl style. She loves a black graphic tee and takes black and white pictures of her converse. She basically dresses like the girls I thought were so cool in middle school. Like c'mon she has a blog and Balayage hair, what other style would she be? (Also random fact but when I heard of 'twee' style I thought it just meant all Tumblr girl style not just the peter pan collar stuff lol) I think people call it Tumblr grunge as well? idk

I have a different updated lineup of the civilian classmates and I might make individual posts describing their vibe, background, inspiration, and style because fashion is very important w my characters lol. xx

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

[tyudearyous]

[11.59 PM]

pairing : established relationship, producer! s.mg x producer! reader

warnings : nothing really, it's a short read, just fluffy overall

🎵 11.59 - jey ft goopy

...

"how long are you going to stay here?" you asked mingi while helping him with his song. it has been a few weeks since the both of you started to work on a project he had been excited about, since it would be his personal debut work. it has been years since he started producing and he has countless songs under his belt but never was those his personal work. it was always for someone else so, when his label gave him this opportunity, he was immediately hooked.

"mmm, just a little bit" mingi mutters, eyes completely locked to the screen. you stopped to gaze at him properly. he was wearing just a simple grey tee and he just recently bleached his hair silver. even with all the simplicity he is, song mingi is just beautiful to you. you couldn't help but smile and you brought your chair closer to him.

"hmm?" he stopped working momentarily and glanced at you. "nothing, just work" you said while playing with his silver locks. mingi loves it whenever you play with his hair. it's soothing and nice to him. his head slowly leaned to your touch while still focusing on his work. "silver suits you, minmin" you complimented him. his ears slowly adorned a rose color, blushing. "you prefer this or pink?" mingi asked you. "ouch, that's hard to pick!" you pouted before slapping his arms jokingly. "any color suits you honestly but i like it when your hair is slightly long, i can play with it" you continued playing with his hair.

"you wanna end work now?" mingi immediately rotated his chair to face you. you nodded and began turning off your workstation. mingi soon does the same and tidied up the workspace.

"can i drive today?" you asked. it was usually mingi who would drive home, just because but tonight, you wanted to drive. "you sure?" mingi asked while he put on his black coat. "yep, 100 percent" you replied while giving him the puppy eyes. he took a while before giving you a yes and giving you his car keys.

after tidying up everything, the two of you walked from the studio to the parking lot. "i'm gonna be busy next week" you stated. "huh? why?" he asked. "i have to take care of the recordings of rina's group" a pout slowly formed on his face. this didn't go unnoticed by you. adorable, you thought before pinching his cheeks which made a smile formed back to his face. "i'll still make time for you, don't worry about it my princess" you teased him and patted his head.

when the two of you arrived at the parking lot, you entered his car and he sat in the passenger seat. you adjusted the seat to make yourself comfortable. well, mingi is very tall, like VERY TALL while you were just average... so of course you didn't need as much leg space as he does. he looked at you doing this and started laughing. "what?" you stared at him while adjusting the seat. he held up the backrest, helping you adjust the seat. "it's just funny seeing you do all that because you're short" teased mingi. "excuse me!? i'm not that short, you're just too tall" you responded in a fake offended way. once you were comfortable, you started the car.

the entire drive was silent but comfortable with your playlist serenading the entire ride. mingi always let you play your playlist during drives like this and honestly, you love it. the fact that he always lets you do things you liked.

"it has been 4 years huh?" you muttered. it has been almost 4 years since when mingi got down to his knees asking for you to be his girlfriend in front of a convenience store. "yeah, 4 years since i embarrassed myself completely" you immediately laughed, remembering how he confessed. "i didn't expect you'll do that, genuinely" he chuckled. "at least i got you now" mingi mutters which made you blush slightly. you were grateful it was dark. if it wasn't, you'd look like a blushing mess.

after a 10 minute drive, you both arrived at your destination a.k.a mingi's apartment. you parked his car immediately and together you went to his unit together. when you got to his apartment, you immediately took off your shoes. "ouch... i shouldn't have used this..." you glanced at the back of your feet where a blister formed because of the ill fitting shoes you wore. "why?" mingi looked at you worriedly. "just a blister, get me some meds and plaster, it'll be okay" you hurriedly went to the couch to rest your feet.

mingi immediately brought the meds and started to tend your blisters. "i told you to change those shoes since a while ago" mingi frowned. "well, it was a gift so i had to be appreciative of it. oh come on stop frowning, i'll stop using it okay?" you cupped mingi's face. "don't use it again" he finished treating your blister. "thank you, minmin" you placed a kiss to his cheeks. he was still frowning but now his cheeks are slightly rosy. "don't make me worried you fool" he kissed you softly. you giggled and he smiled at your antics.

these type of moments are moments you dearly loved and held to. a night filled with each other's embrace and love. hopefully, these moments will last forever both for you and mingi.

[peachsayshi]

by your side. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ gojo x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

summary: gojo returns home after an exhausting two month trip away from you. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: I’m so h*rny for this man & that tight black tee of his this is my contribution to celebrate satoru gojo and satoru gojo only <3  you can find my other yan gojo posts: here & here. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; lovesick/obsessed/needy gojo; sleepy satoru; oral (f receiving); edging; dub con (ish?); pussy drunk satoru 👀; size kink; dacryphilia 

“Missed you,” Satoru exhales with a strained voice, his long fingers unfastening the knot around your waist, similarly to how you removed the white ribbon of the present he gifted you earlier this evening. 

The elder jujutsu sorcerers frustrated him with too many problems during his isolation period away from you, binding him with the shackles of responsibilities that he never asked for.

Exchanging phone calls, text messages and videos with you wasn’t enough enough to fill the empty void in his heart. Only now, as he smooths down the silk fabric of your robe, does Satoru understand how terribly deprived he’s been. 

How did he survive these last two months without you?

“I missed you so much, my sweet girl”

His words are laced with anguish and his pupils dilate at your soft skin peeking out from under your attire. He pulls the material away from you, watching carefully as it ripples off your body like water. 

Around your neck is the present that he bought for you; a string of white gold links draping down your clavicle with a heart shaped pendant resting just above your chest. He nips at his bottom lip, considering the idea of adorning you in even more jewelry. 

Two sparkling studs for your ears, maybe...a charm bracelet to compliment a pretty anklet... a band that would look complete around your ring finger...

The image makes his dick twitch.

You’re looking up at him from underneath your lashes, shying away from his intense gaze and drifting down to his muscular torso looking snug in his black fitted tee. All of a sudden your bed feels much smaller with him there, and a tingle ascends up your spine when he curves his strong arm behind your waist. The force of his weight pushes you down onto the soft pillows behind you. His limbs taking up most of the mattress, leaving you pinned underneath the expanse of his chest. 

You’ve forgotten how quickly he makes your heart race.  You’re still adjusting to this - getting used to the status of being his girl.

He tenderly touches his forehead to yours, a reminder of why the claim shouldn’t make you feel like a frightened kitten trapped in a wolf’s den.

Those words are pure devotion now, an affirmation of his love towards you. There are many who dream about basking in its abundance, and here you are greedily indulging for free.

Being loved by him is an honor that you have been pleasantly awarded.

You tilt your chin up to brush your mouth over his, initiating the first kiss with a chaste peck against his pink lips before leaning back to look into the depths of his blue eyes. 

He’s exhausted, you can tell, the bright color of his irises are muted and his mouth is twisting downward in a subtle frown. You know for a fact that he carries many burdens as the head of his clan and the strongest sorcerer, but what’s unsettling you is the sullen expression overwhelming his handsome face since his arrival. 

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” you state quite matter of factly, swiping your thumb over the blush blooming underneath his pale skin. 

Satoru leans into your touch, resting his cheek comfortably in the palm of your hand, and you can’t help but think how angelic he looks this way.

“I am, it’s just...I really, really hated being away from you,” he confesses through gritted teeth. 

You brush off the spark of nerves reacting to the visible sickness on his face, and trail your index finger down the bridge of his nose. “You’re home now,” you coo as you circle your arms around his neck, “I’m happy that you’re back.” 

His shoulders relax almost immediately, and he buries his relieved smile in the crook of your neck.  “Yeah?” he mumbles into your skin. “That’s nice to hear.” 

The sensation feels ticklish, but your giggle is quickly replaced by quiet pants as Satoru leaves a trail of kisses down your torso. His large palms find the back of your knees, and he lowers himself while spreading you apart so he can comfortably rest between your legs. The hand on your left leg curls around your ankle and he adjusts your position by bending your knee at a perfect angle. Meanwhile, his other hand lifts up your right leg, exposing the back of your thigh which he litters with tiny kisses and gentle nibbles.

“You don’t know...” he mumbles, “you don’t know how hard it is for me being away from you, it’s...” he interrupts once more, smooching your plush skin, “it’s unbearable...” 

His feathery admission gives you no comfort. Worry twists around your belly, caught between the grips of fright and excitement. A part of you refuses to believe that he is truly helpless without you around. However, it’s battling with your ego that’s showering with pride over the fact that this man would bend at your every will. 

Satoru presses his nose up against your clothed cunt to inhale your scent. The tension on his face dissipates, but his grip around your ankle tightens as he kisses you over the white cotton fabric. 

“M’here, Toru...” you soothe, threading your fingers through the frosty strands framing his facing, and pushing back his hair. “Here just for you” 

He releases an exaggerated sigh, “I feel so much better when we are together...” he admits, pressing his index finger up against the outline of your slit and rubbing over the damp patch that he formed with his tongue, “...when we are close like this.” 

You don't believe he’s lying. As a matter of fact, Satoru is honest to a fault when expressing his feelings about you.

You think it’s detrimental for a person to be this dependent, but your mind always finds a reason to rationalize his perspective.

Maybe it’s because you love him…or maybe it’s because he’s successfully bulldozed his way into your life that he now occupies every territory, making it impossible for you to turn anywhere catching a glimpse of his shadow.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

You don’t want to dissect these unsettling ideas, afraid of what your mind would reveal to you in the process.

Instead, you allow yourself to relax as your lover pulls aside your underwear to expose your pussy. He lightly rubs his thumb over your ankle, keeping you in place for him before placing a sweet kiss on your clit. You slowly massage his scalp as a gesture of encouragement, and whimper quietly when he flicks the tip of his tongue along the nub. 

Your right leg lazily falls over his broad shoulder when he releases his hold, your eyelids growing heavy feeling the stroke of his velvety tongue drag down.

Satoru eats you out for his own pleasure, and the man is starved having not tasted you for months.

He keeps you in this position long enough for you to feel like the room is spinning. You’re lightheaded, delirious, with the way he softly and slowly devours your cunt and slurps your arousal. The sound of tender smacks and his deep humming moans echo around you, and your hips buck against his mouth from how sensual he sounds.  

The brewing heat numbs you from the top of the head down to the tips of your toes, it’s burning so low that you’re desperate to prod the embers just to stir the flame. You lick your lip feverishly, tasting the saltiness of sweat and jab your heel into his back, but the pressure feels like nothing to him. 

Satoru doesn’t waver or pick up the pace because he’s savoring you down to the very last drop, and he looks so content with your slick dribbling down his chin. He goes deeper, pushing his tongue further inside you as he compresses his nose into your clit. The added pressure makes you choke out a pathetic whine, provoking your exasperation and your thighs start to quiver uncontrollably. 

You’re relying on your movements, grinding your hips out of desperation in the hopes to finally snap the rubber band of your pleasure that’s being stretched to its limit. 

“mmph...t-toru?...” you mewl as tears prick your lovely eyes. “toru?” 

“Hmm?” a deep voice replies, and Satoru slowly wriggles his nose as he continues to lazily fuck you with his tongue. 

“Satoru, I-...ah!” you yelp, finally grabbing his attention as you roughly yank his hair. 

He groans with annoyance, but slows down his movements. To your dismay, he doesn’t completely pull away and instead returns back to your sensitive clit. He languidly rolls his tongue over it, licking and sucking the overstimulated bud that the tears start to fall. 

“I can’t take this...I can’t take this...”  you sniffle, easing your hold as you try to push his head away. “need to cum, wanna cum so bad...” 

Only then does he look up from the mess between your legs, strings of your slick catch onto his chin and you contemplate how unjust it is that he looks this beautiful, contemplate how unfair it is that you are meant to temper your sinful thoughts around a man who is Adonis incarnate. 

His hazy eyes blink away his dream like trance, and you can see his senses returning back to the present. He arches his brow with slight amusement at your flustered expression but maintains an innocent tone when he replying.

“I got a little carried away...” he states before placing an apologetic kiss on your lower tummy. “Not enough for you, huh?” 

You pout slightly and shake your head no, attempting to lift yourself up on your forearms despite your shoulders trembling from how frail your body feels tipping so close to the edge.

Satoru envelopes you in the protection of his embrace. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue and over his lips. He molds into your frame and your body lights up with sparks feeling how stiff  the length of his hard cock feels as he delicately ruts his hips over yours. 

You moan with every calculative thrust, spread your legs wide enough to feel his impressive bulge rub against you.

God, it makes you want to ride him senseless.

You’re yearning to have him inside you.

He pulls away from the sloppy, wet kiss then eases the grind of his hips as he pecks your cheek and jawline. He wriggles down, stopping to suckle on the tips of your pointed nipples and your heart stops when you realize that he still has no intention of making you cum yet.

“Toru, please...” you beg when he returns to his previous position, a gasp following your plea as he buries two fingers inside you. 

“I’m feeling much better, baby, I love you s’much...” he reassures, a wicked grin tickling the corners of his mouth as he steadily drags his digits back and forth, “I promise I’ll fill you right up…just need to make up for some lost time, kay?” 

The blood drains from your face, and you realize that you’re completely at his mercy.

“s’good to me, so perfect ‘n pretty...” he praises into your glistening cunt, but you’re too enraptured by the sensation of his tongue stroking your folds to notice the way his eyes darken as he looks at you.

If you did, then you would remember the danger of nuzzling up with a wolf whose bite would bleed you dry. 

[riaki]

santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[notapradagurl7]

The Right One.

Virgin!Black!FemReader x Neighbor!Mother’s Milk “Marvin” from the Amazon TV show Boys.

Summary: On a late Saturday night with your besties, You weren't the only virgin in your friend group, and thought about losing it to your friend/next-door neighbor Marvin.

Taglist: @lesbiantreehugger @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @westside-rot @liatreads @justhornyyme @mypointlessdays @cristallizednmesmerized @satoruya @planetblaque @hoodbarbiesims @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings @judymfmoody @life-in-the-slut-house @keyera-jackson @tryingtograspctrl @afrophoria @sageispunk

Word Count: 4,526k words

A/N: Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like to support your favorite writers! ❤️ another fic from this fine man,😫 p.s. don’t let anyone pressure you into thinking you’re missing out even about losing your v-card, this fic is simply for fictional shit. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with.

Warnings: PWP, +18, virginity loss, profanity, soft MM, divorced MM, age gap between the reader in their 30s and MM, dirty talk, praise, fluff, spanking, smut, teddy bear MM, fingering, oral(fem receiving) protected sex, soft dom MM, aftercare,

—————

You sat on the grey soft couch with your eyes roaming around your friends, they had dazzling smiles, and were drunk laughing along with a variety of hairstyles ranging from curly, straightened, box braided, loced or even their natural hairstyle. They are all clothed in oversized sweatshirts, graphic tees, and loungewear that span the entire spectrum of vibrant colors.

Their hands held wine glasses and pieces of popcorn in their hands, watching a bunch of scary movies, Lola tightly clutched the bright yellow star-shaped pillow with her nails digging into them.

“Damn…why can't there be smart people in horror movies?” You asked in an annoyed tone, shaking your head from side to side.

“It's always the damn thing in these movies..” Zaria scoffed with a giggle.

Suddenly, Zaria went straight to YouTube and played All I Wanted by Paramore, one of her favorite songs. “All I wanted was youuuu…” she sang off-key with a smile.

As the fervent rock music from the 2000s pulsed softly through the spacious room, you sang along to Paramore’s lyrics. Feeling the nostalgia wash over your being, smiling at your friends playing air guitars and using their combs as a microphones.

Your friends, Lola, Zaria and Jayla were talking about their rendezvous and relationships, you were fake laughing at every double entendre and innuendo. You felt left out but sex wasn't a big deal, right?

It couldn't be right? sex leads to babies being born or diseases, it can be used in a bad, ugly thing. Your mom always warned you about boys and sex, when you were younger especially when their hormones were raging and they were so immature, you didn't want kids either, her paranoia helped in some ways.

Your mom, that's where it stemmed from. Your fear, your expectations, her concern for you, she didn't want you to be boy crazy.

But damn, did you turn out to be a prude? You couldn't let your anxious thoughts win, just breathe.

The insularity of your mom and being a late bloomer, you being stricter on yourself.

Your friends were buzzing with excitement, each one more eager than the last to share their stories of wild nights and new experiences. You smiled along with them, feeling a mix of warmth and trepidation.

You loved your friends dearly, but the weight of your virginity lay flat on you like a blanket. You avoided the topic at all times but have only been in one relationship, you told him you were on your period. Which grossed him out completely and you broke up.

“Ouu! If you fuck any supe or hero? Villain? Who would it be?”

You thought about one of the Supes, mention of them made your skin crawl. Especially a certain “hero” but only one, Marvin.

“I would fuck Black Noir, without the mask though. I think he has some mask kink, I need him to speak, but I bet that dick is big!” Zaria giggled with her tongue running her lips. Twirling her box braid in her index finger.

You couldn't believe that there were Black Noir dildos being sold in sex stores and they almost sold out, big in size and guaranteed to give you immense pleasure. You thought it was kinda stupid.

The question roamed your mind for a second, Black Noir was black, right? Pursuing your lips at the stereotype targeted for the core audience.

“Oh shit! You've got the dildo too? Girl, you're nasty!”

“I would fuck A Train, he can use that super speed for this, whew!” Jayla exclaimed with a smirk, sipping her glass.

“Didn’t he kill someone with his super speed? Are you sure?” You asked her, raising your brows.

“He’s starting to change for the better right? Eh, I’d still fuck him once Y/N” Jayla smirked, shurgging her shoulders.

“I would fuck Strom from X-Men, she's gorgeous and I always thought her powers were so cool!” You exclaimed with a smile.

Jayla agreed with a nod, “Exactly, I would fuck her too, and Wolverine.” she giggled.

“Soooo..Y/N? When was the last time you got some dick?” Lola asked with a sing-song tone, smirking drunkenly.

You sighed lowly, looking at your empty glass of red wine and placed it on the coaster that rested on the table. They looked at you with concern and confusion.

You were dressed in an oversized tee Jujutsu Kaisen shirt with shorts, and socks on your feet. Your melanated skin and your locs are tied up in a bun with a wine glass in your hand.

“Are you okay girl?” Zaria asked with her lip pouting, tilting her head to the side.

You couldn’t lie to them, they were your friends and were they virgins too? You could be right about that part.

“N-No, I’m not, I never had sex before, it’s dumb, i’m a virgin,” You confessed softly, pursuing your lips.

It was damn near embarrassing to be the only virgin in your friend group, you were entering your early thirties but now you’ve waited long enough.

“Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, I’m a virgin too but I lied so I wouldn't get teased..” Lola mentioned, fiddling with the ends of her sweatshirt.

Zaria nodded in agreement, “You know we wouldn't tease either of you for being virgins, it's okay and we understand. I wish I had waited instead of rushing so early…”

It felt nice to know that you weren't alone in your friend group but maybe losing it right now wouldn't be a bad idea but to who?

“Speaking of losing it, have you thought about Marvin? Your fine-ass neighbor?” Jayla whispered seductively, smirking again.

Was she out of her rabid-ass mind if she suggested that you should fuck your handsome neighbor, he was straightforward and genuine, protective of you, and made you feel safe here. Your personal teddy bear, He worked at a juvenile detention center for kids, helping them along the way.

“Well…have you thought about Marvin?” She asked again, tilting her head to the side.

Of course, you thought about him. Your besties saw that man, with his voice and music tee shirts. You listened to rock music and classical, jazz music that you suggested to him. He liked it and thanked you for it.

He lived next to your house, You’d known him forever, your next-door neighbor and a friend who always seemed to be there for you. He worked at his job as a youth counselor, he cleaned up a lot, including after himself, and gave you tips about

The four of you tiptoed toward the small window with your eyes landing on the buff man walking out of his house, wearing a grey tee shirt and grey sweatpants with Adidas slides on his sock-clad feet. Look at him, casually taking out the trash and grunting as he lifted it, throwing it in the trashcan.

“Oh my god, he's so fine, mm. I love a man with a beard..” You gushed with your cheeks heating up.

Jayla nodded, “Yeah, me too girl, I would never let Marvin shave it off.” She gushed with her cheeks heating up.

Without noticing, Marvin turned his eyes toward the four of you gawking at him like he was a piece of meat, locking eyes with him until you ducked immediately, he chuckled at you and your friends. Walking back inside.

Yup, Marvin knew that you and your besties were staring at him. Now, this was embarrassing.

“Did he see us?” Jayla asked in a confused tone.

“No, he didn't notice us at all,” You said in sarcasm.

Y'all could've sworn y'all saw his thick dick swinging on the right, the fabric of his shirt clung to his muscles perfectly, did he know that he was fine?

“You haven't hopped on that dick yet? Shit, I would've done it tonight!”

You felt your cheeks flush at the mention of Marvin. The thought of him sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. He was everything you admired in a man: strong, kind, and undeniably attractive. But the idea of losing your virginity to your neighbor? It was a whirlwind of emotions you weren't prepared to navigate.

"Marvin?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. "We're neighbors. That’s... a little too close for comfort, don’t you think?"

Jayla leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Girl, please! You know he’s been eyeing you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. Plus, he’s a total softie. You’d be in good hands!"

Lola chimed in, her expression earnest. "Honestly, if you’re going to lose it, why not with someone you trust? Marvin seems like the type who would take care of you."

You bit your lip, contemplating their words. Marvin had always been sweet to you, giving you advice when you needed it, helping you with your groceries, and even sharing stories of his day. But could you really cross that line?

It was only a one-time thing, lose your V-card and get the hell out of there, you want to fuck that grown man. You can do this right?

"I don’t know, ladies. It feels...complicated," you admitted, glancing at your friends’ encouraging smiles.

“Complicated? Please! Life is complicated. This is about you and what you want,” Zaria said firmly. “If you feel ready, then go for it. And if anyone can make your first time memorable, it’s Marvin.”

The room buzzed with excitement as they each encouraged you, their enthusiasm infectious. You could feel the urge to leap into something new stirring within you. Maybe this was the push you needed.

“Okay, let’s say I consider it,” you started cautiously. “What do I even say to him? ‘Hey, Marvin, let’s fuck?’”

Your friends erupted into laughter, and you joined in. The humor lightened the mood, but the thought lingered in your mind.

“Just be honest! He’s a grown man. You can keep it casual,” Jayla suggested, winking conspiratorially. “Invite him over, maybe watch a movie, and see where it goes.”

“Or just go straight to the point!” Zaria added with a cheeky grin, making exaggerated gestures. “Nothing wrong with a little confidence!”

Obviously, your friends have met Marvin. He was the way you described him to them, Marvin was glad to meet them.

You took a deep breath, weighing the options. The idea of a casual movie night with Marvin felt both thrilling and terrifying. But what if he said no? What if the whole thing turned awkward?

“Okay, okay. Let’s say I do this. If I invite him over, you guys are leaving, right?” you asked, your voice laced with uncertainty.

“Absolutely! We’ll make ourselves scarce. Just send us a text when you’re ready!” Lola assured you, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

With a mix of fear and exhilaration bubbling in your chest, you decided to take a leap of faith. Maybe the night would go smoothly, and maybe it wouldn’t. But you were tired of living in fear of what could be.

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. Your friends cheered, squealing, raising their glasses in a toast to your newfound courage.

“Here’s to new experiences!” Jayla exclaimed, and the clinking of glasses echoed in the room as you smiled.

“Get that dick, girl! Let us know on the details too! Let me know if he’s a moaner” Jayla exclaimed with smirk.

Later that evening, after your friends had left and the house was quiet, you sat on your couch, contemplating your next move. The thought of Marvin stirred something deep inside you, pulling you closer to the edge of bravery. With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and typed out a message.

“Hey Marvin, do you want to come over and watch a movie sometime? Just us?”

You hit send and felt a rush of adrenaline. Now all you had to do was wait for his response.

“Yeah, I would like that,”

Whew, that wasn't so difficult right? But now you had to be straightforward with him.

Minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring and you rushed toward the door, you opened it and Marvin was there.

“Hey, Marv. Glad that you could make it.”

He stepped through the door with a respectful nod and smile, his head turned to listen to any upcoming warnings. It was silent but he was always aware. You loved that, a gold chain hung around his neck.

Closing and locking the door behind the man, you walked beside him. The cologne lingered on his clothes, his breath had a hint of mint and coffee.

“You know that I love comin’ over to your place for movie night, I missed you,”

Your arms wrapped around his waist with his hand resting on the small of your back, bringing you in close for a warm hug, resting your head on his buff shirt-clad chest.

You anxiously massaged his back muscles; this was the fifth occasion he had visited your home, and the two of you had spent the nights watching films, scoring them from 1 to 10, and discussing each scene.

"I missed you too and you always arrive when I need you, aren't you tired of me yet?” You asked him in a confused tone, the warmth from his body made your clit throb.

Marvin looked down at you, tilting his head. “Hey, Stop saying that, I will never get tired of seeing you,” he reassured kindly, watching your smirk curl up.

“Thank you for reminding me.”

His hand rested on his chest, nodding at you, “You’re ever so welcome..” he said, like you described, a teddy bear.

You led him to the living room, where you had set up the movie on the TV. The atmosphere felt charged with anticipation, both of you aware of the underlying tension.

The movie playing was Roll Bounce, starting off with the main character played by Bow Wow, Xavier skating in the rolling skating rink while 70s music playing in the background.

It was one of your favorite black movies, you preferred black cinema without trauma porn, you enjoyed comedies and mystery thrillers.

a few cushions tossed aside, making space between you and Marvin. He sank into the seat next to you, the warmth from his body radiating made your cheeks heat up.

So you decided to spark a conversation with him about the movie. Your thoughts kept drifting about Marvin but you cleared your throat, making his attention turn to you.

Wondering if he had seen this movie since he was older than you. “Have you ever seen this movie before?” you asked him, your tone was soft yet curious.

Marvin shook his head from side to side, making you gasp softly, he chuckled lightly. “Nah, I'm used to watching so old school movies, in the nineties specifically..” He said with a warm tone, smiling at you.

“What? This is amazing, I have a whole collection of DVDs for my favorite movies, and we can watch Brown Sugar next! It's so good!” You gushed

The way he looked at you when you talked about stuff you liked always made him feel happy,

“Is this movie any good?” Marvin asked, glancing sideways at you, his dark brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You nodded, a smile on your face. “Yeah, it’s a classic. It’s about roller-skating and friendships. Very nostalgic.”

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and rich, and you felt your heart flutter. “Sounds like fun. I always wanted to try roller-skating.”

You turned your head towards him, surprised. “Really? I can’t picture you on skates. You seem too cool for that.”

Marvin laughed, shaking his head. “Cool? Nah, man. I’m just a big teddy bear at heart. I’d probably fall flat on my face.”

You smiled, the tension easing just a little. “Well, if you ever need a partner to practice with, I’m game.”

As the movie played on, you found your mind racing with freaky fantasies. This was it. You were here with Marvin, and the thought of crossing that line felt thrilling yet terrifying.

You settled on the couch, you steal glances at Marvin. He looked handsome, his muscles defined even under the loose shirt he wore.

The movie played in the background, but you did not much attention to it. The only sound was the soft music and occasional dialogue, the rest of the room filled with the heavy silence that had you in a chokehold.

Your fingers lightly tugged at the ends of his tee shirt, his head turned from the television and back to you. Genuine concern is etched on his attractive face, and his dark brown eyes sparkling brightly

“Yes, Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Oh, that way he said your name, made your breath hitch, you couldn't waste any moment telling him this.

You looked at him in the eyes softly yet seriously, exhaling through your nose. Relax, you got this, everything will be fine. Nervously fiddling with your fingernails to keep focus.

“I’ve been thinking about losing my V-card and I thought of you, I just want to get it out of the way, that's all” You confessed firmly, biting down on your lips.

His brows raised in surprise, his eyes softened at you, nodding his head in agreement. Marvin's demeanor shifted from surprise to understanding, his gaze unwavering as he processed your words.

“I understand, I appreciate you trusting me with something so important,” Marvin replied, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of surprise. “Are you sure about this, sweetheart? I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze with determination. “I trust you, Marvin. I know you’ll take care of me.”

A warm smile spread across his face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “Then let’s take it slow, okay? I want to make sure you’re comfortable every step of the way.”

“Yes, I would like that. I appreciate this Marv,”

It felt great to have someone you can trust with your body, and treat your body with care, and respect.

With a nod, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft yet longing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, the feeling of his lips moving against yours sending sparks of desire through your body.

Marvin’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as the kiss deepened. His touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that made your heart race.

As the kiss broke, you found yourself breathless, your eyes locked with his. “

He carried you into the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, both of your clothes littered across the floor, the moonlight peeked through your curtains and gave him an extra large condom, his thick dick hung between his legs

He was thick everywhere, you preferred men with meat on ‘em, and your eyelids grew in shock, what was he going to fit? You hoped so.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. It’s just my first time seeing a dick, Can I touch it?” You asked innocently, biting down on your lips.

A smile spread across his face as he gently took your wrist, guiding your hand around him. You slid your hand up and down, hearing soft groans escape his lips. Precum dripped from the tip as his dick throbbed before you.

“You're so big.." you mumbled, kissing his tip gently. Licking your lips clean from the essence.

You weren't nervous anymore, your eyes glued to his dick until his index finger lifted your chin. “My eyes are up here babygirl..” he smirked, kissing your lips again.

“Lay down..” He told with a demanding tone.

You lay on your back, gently spreading your legs apart. Marvin’s fingers parted your folds gently, his thumb rubbed your clit in circles, pushing his fingers between your folds, you moaned wildly, pleasure washed over you

“M-Marvin..” his eyes softened at how tight you were around his fingers, a soft moan escaping his lips. Watching your wetness pour out of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” Marvin murmured, his voice husky with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding. With his thick fingers pumping in and out of you, his thick fingers filled you up. His tongue glided across your clit, “oh..fuck!” you cried out, your finger covering your lips.

Your hands covered your half of your face and mouth with embarrassment, moans escaped your pretty lips and the soft squelching noise

His knuckles brushed across your throbbing clit and brought you over to the edge, your walls tightly clenched around his fingers, “M-Marvin please..” moving your hand out of the way gently, muffled moans from your mouth.

“Don't hold back, let me hear your voice baby..” He teased, pecking your clit twice.

Your hips rolled against his fingers, becoming wetter as your mouth grew wider, unable to keep yourself quiet.

The knots in your stomach grew tighter, your climax washed over you. “Oh fuckkk!” you cried out, your hands gripping the bedsheets for support.

He pulled his fingers out and heard you whine, you pouting your lip and he grinned at you, “No pouting, you'll get what you want..” he teased, bringing his fingers to your lips.

Your hands grabbed his wrist and wrapped your lips around his fingers, your tongue licked your essence clean while you looked up at him, lifting your head for some air after he kissed you passionately.

Thankfully, he is a clean freak and always washes himself squeaky clean, including his hands, nothing is more attractive than a man cleaning up after himself. Even made sure he got tested and wore condoms.

“I'm clean, there's no need to worry..” he reassured you with a kiss on your forehead.

He grabbed the condom and gently tore the wrapper, gradually sliding on his dick, his knees rested on the bed and caught the faint squeak.

Marvin positioned himself between your legs, slowly pushing his dick into you, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, but the pleasure that followed was overwhelming. You gasped softly and whined at the stinging pain.

“It’s okay, i’m right here..” he said softly, kissing your lips to distract from the pain, your legs squirmed and you bite down on your lips, hands balled up in the sheets. Small whimpers fell from your mouth again.

Red nail marks across his tawny brown skin, pushing his hips into you at a gradual pace. “Sss..it hurts..” you whined, pecking his lips again.

“Just breathe, baby. It’ll feel better in a second,” Marvin soothed, his voice low and comforting as he continued to push himself deeper.

There was a mix of pleasure and pain that flooded through you, and you tried to focus on the warmth of his body against yours. Your thumbs swiped over his beard, small groans left his lips, the tightness of your walls clenched around his dick.

The initial discomfort began to fade, replaced by a growing wave of sensation that made your back arch off the bed. “Fuck, Marvin…” you breathed, your voice laced with both pain and pleasure.

“Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so good for me,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. The way he spoke made your heart race, being this close to him made your pussy clench.

He adjusted his angle, finding the right spot that made you gasp. “There? Is that good? That pussy speaking to me?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Yes! Just like that!” you encouraged, newfound confidence surging within you. The feeling intensified with each thrust, and you could feel the tension building again in your core.

“You’re taking me so well..” he praised, The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your soft gasps and his deep groans. “You’re so tight, baby. I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“Marvin, I—oh!” you cried out as he hit that sweet spot again, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. His hands gripped a handful of your ass, spanking your asscheek roughly as you moaned loudly, he picked up the pace, feeling more of you clench around him.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, as your body responded eagerly to his every thrust. He watched your face scrunched up in pleasure, laying your head on his chest. “It’s so goodd…Marvin..” you croaked softly, eyes rolling back.

“Let it out, Y/N. I want to feel you come around this dick,” he urged, his hands gripping your thighs as he thrust deeper, the tension within you reaching a fever pitch.

With each thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge. “I’m gonna cum!” you cried, your nails digging into his arms as you clung to him.

“It's okay sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl as he quickened his pace, the sound of your bodies moving together growing louder.

The tension snapped, and you cried out his name as pleasure washed over yoo. Your walls clamped down around him, essence spilled all over his dick, and you felt his rhythm falter as he pulled out, falling beside you.

You both collapsed onto the bed, breathless and entwined, the world outside fading away. Marvin pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his eyes locked onto you. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he looked down at you.

“I’m more than okay. That was…incredible,” you admitted, nodding while smile spreading across your lips.

Marvin grinned, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N.” he took off the condom and tied the ends, throwing it away in the trashcan.

He picked you up bridal style and carried you into the bathroom, ran a hot bath for you as he sat you down in the tub, watching the male walk into the shower.

Once you finished cleansing yourself, you applied lotion and put on a grey nightgown, going braless and panty-less, feeling rejuvenated. You observed Marvin exit the bathroom, still towel-clad and dry from his shower, then he playfully slapped your ass, causing you to laugh.

You passed Marvin his clothes and boxers, his brows raised in confusion but he grabbed them, hoping that he could spend the night with you, cuddle with you but you only wanted to lose your V-card, it was a one-time thing right?

“I had a great time with you Marv, thank you..” you said with a warm tone, smiling at him.

It saddened him, but he understood the situation; both of you were grown adults, and he didn't want to complicate things or come off as inappropriate.

Following his divorce last year from his ex-wife and the loss of custody of his daughter, he faced difficulties in finding success in dating.

But friendship was still an important to him, "Y-Yeah, i had a great time with you as well, Goodnight,“

After that, he walked out of the bedroom and gets dressed, bids you a farwell and told you to be safe. He walked through the door and closed it behind him, he sighed lowly.

He walked back next door to his house, catching nosey-ass Ms. Parker watching him leave, he rolled his eyes. Making his way toward the front door of his house, unlocking it and stepping inside.

You heard his voice crack slightly, maintaining boundaries with each other was important.

Your phone buzzed from your friends texting you in the group chat and Facetimeing you, you gave them all the details.

Of course, they squealed and cheered you on. You laid on your back and gazed at the ceiling.

——————

[devildomresidentt]

How would they dress?

Younger Bros Edition

Satan

Mainly dark and neutral colors ~ Browns, Beiges, Sage Greens, and Blacks

Took him the longest out of all his brothers to develop his own personal style due to his lack and over-concentrated knowledge of Fashion

Always carrying some type of bag with him to store any books, notebooks/journals, and cat treats/toys for any strays

Isn’t inspired by any type of specific fashion type, but he has a specific style he likes to call his own that’s distinctive to him

Always wearing an oversized t-shirt and button up combo, or a Sweater + Button up combo

Asmodeus

A mix of colors ~ Light pinks & Reds to Whites and Blacks

Inspired by Preppy/Minimalist Fashion along with Club fashion (but I can also see him being into Rave Fashion/Culture)

Loves to wear revealing clothing like crop tops, tanks with cut outs, and low rise jeans, but also loves to wear sweaters, varsity jackets, and Wide legged/Flared jeans

He would wear thongs/g-strings along with low rise jeans or with a pair of regular jeans + a crop top (Or he’ll just wear them as a fun surprise for his partner <3)

Beelzebub

Mainly Dark colors ~ Blacks, Deep Reds, Grays

Same as Levi will always wear oversized Graphic tees and hoodies, Beel will always rock some type of tank/compression shirt

Prefers gym or basketball shorts over jeans, but also enjoys wearing loose sweats & Cargos

Isn’t really inspired by any type of fashion, he just wears what he finds the most comfortable to workout in, or what he thinks he looks the best in (he looks good in anything I love him so much)

One of the reasons he prefers tanks is because he has multiple tattoos across his the left side of his chest, to his shoulders going down his arm that all have important meanings (Some corresponding to his brothers, some representing Lilith, and even some to cover up his scars from the celestial war)

Belphegor

Little smelly emo shit.

Dark & Light colors ~ Deep purples, Blacks, Grays, and Whites

The first thing you notice about him when he enters a room is the sound of his pant chains jingling and his eye-catching studded belts

Always wanted to have to ‘Older brother in the 2000’s aesthetic’ so he took heavy inspo from it once he was given more individuality in his style after the Fall

I can also see him dressing more on the Colorful Scene side decked out head to toe in Neons, Blacks, and checkered patterns

[anieswrld]

★・・・★ scene!ellie ★・・・★

i just love thinking about ellie being scene like the side part fringe….

she definitely has snakebites and ear gauges that are neon green and glow in the dark

she only smokes newports guys !!! and she’s a joint girl like c’mon now

she lives on monsters and carries a beaten up messenger bag with a fuck ton of pins on it

only wears over the ear head phones idk

drives a beat up chevy impala that breaks down and shes always calling you to help

has SO many studded belts like in every color

loves rainbow dash (her og scene queen)

dyes her hair black then a week later it’s orange and then complains about how dead that shit is

plays guitar in her dingy basement that’s filled with like 100 people who are all drunk off four lokos and other cheap booze

has a comfort flannel/zip up when it gets cold

owns so many ties that she wears over her graphic tees that she makes

owns like 4 pairs of knee high converse

every christmas she just asks everyone for more black skinny jeans (she rips them up herself)

i imagine her being scene during PEAK scene time (2009-2012) and having random parties in the woods/abandoned places

i’m a scene!ellie, emo!dina, punk!jesse, and emo!abby truther in this au, like they’re always together fucking around

she tags any building anywhere

masc!scene ellie x fem! scene reader???? omg i fainted

the friend group just pierces eachother, ie: dina pierced your belly button, you pierced jesses lip, jesse pierced abby’s eyebrow, you pierced ellie’s tongue like y’all are crazy

her room is covered in posters (mostly handmade or gifts that bitch is BROKE)

works with you at spencer’s while abby, dina, and jesse all work at hot topic (in the same mall ofc)

anddd that’s it, if y’all have any other ideas for this au lmk bc i wanna write a whole fic at some point 🫡