#his brain just tired so he's now asking random questions

[orizukuin]

Eugene....

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Prompt Generated from incorrect quotes X33

[thedevilspearl]

asking them stupid questions — all brothers

a/n: having a hard time writing smut atm so here’s some silly headcanons with the brothers. i was really tired when i proofread this so there may be some mistakes.

tags: 2k words, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub + belphegor. (belphie’s is a little suggestive).

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer has had enough.

it’s been a long day and he wished for a quiet night in his office to relax with some tea while overlooking the bills his brothers have riled up.

but he’s quite distracted tonight.

peace and quiet is not an option. especially with you loitering, floating around his office and touching all the trinkets and décor. you’ve never shown interest in them before, but tonight, all of a sudden lucifer’s office is the most inviting place in the world.

“mc?”

“yes, honey?”

“is something the matter.”

there is a painstakingly long silence before you answer. “….no.”

letting out a little sigh, he asks, “are you quite sure?”

you hum with a subtle nod, barely looking him in the eye and he is now certain something is wrong.

“mc, please. if you aren’t feeling well, you can tell me about it. you don’t need to make this difficu—”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?” lucifer’s voice croaks.

“it’s just that i felt sad thinking about how you might not love me anymore if one day i turned into a worm and couldn’t turn back into me.”

“mc, in what world would you ever turn into a worm?”

“most likely this one. remember that time mammon accidentally turned me into a sheep in spells class? i was cute as a sheep, so it was okay. but as a worm, i’d be small and slimy and gross. i’d be unloveable.”

“that is enough,” he rises from his chair, speaking with command but still gentle enough to not upset you further. “you shouldn’t think of such things. it is so silly of you to think i would ever stop loving you.”

“luci….”

“if i must spell it out for you, then yes. i would still love you if you were a worm and i would carry you everywhere with me to ensure you’re never lost or hurt. i would need something small and protective to carry you in, but yes. i will always love you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“if there was a zombie apocalypse and i was bitten, what would you do?”

“hah?!” mammon’s face contorts at your random question. “what are ya talking about?”

“i’ve been thinking about that movie we watched….the zombie one. and just wondered what it would be like.”

“gave up on surviving already, did ya?” he chuckles, collapsing onto his bed beside you, his hand resting on your waist.

“no, but i wanna know! what would you do if i turned into a zombie?”

“well….what are the options?” his smirk earns him a playful smack on the chest. “hey! i’m serious. i’ll be so sad that i won’t be able to think straight, so ya need to give me some options.”

“fine,” you pout, scratching your brain for solutions. “i suppose the most humane thing to do would be to kill me. you know, to make sure i’m not forced to live as a mindless zombie eating other humans.”

“okay….”

“or you could tie me up, maybe chain me, and keep me alive by feeding me living people.”

“why would i keep ya around if you’re gonna stink like a rotting corpse?”

while mammon laughs, your brows furrow with annoyance, mostly feigned but there’s a small sense of hurt in there when you think about mammon not wanting to keep you after you turn into a zombie, despite it being completely logical and reasonable.

“hey,” his voice is soft as he leans over and kisses your cheek, “don’t worry. i’d handcuff us together and let you bite me. then we can be zombies together and never be separated.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

movie night always means one thing, and that’s you and levi curling up with tangled limbs and a hoard of cushions and blankets. a joint blanket burrito with little space between you but that’s a good thing.

the closeness makes it cosier.

tonight, you opted for a more emotional movie. a romance, but romances are always emotional for both of you. that’s why you try your best to stay away from the romantic movies and stick to action packed fantasies or sci-fi’s that are the furthest thing from romance.

but there was a new and popular movie making the headlines and levi couldn’t wait to watch it. you knew watching it was a lost hope, and now you’re sobbing in levi’s arms watching the struggles the love interests are going through to get to each other.

“i’m so glad it wasn’t that difficult for us to be together,” you sniffle, feeling a wave of gratitude take over. “i love you, levi.”

“i love you, too,” his voice trembles and he quietly wipes his own tears.

“hey, levi?”

“what is it?”

“can i wipe my nose on you?”

“what? no!”

too late. you buried your head into his chest, wiping your face clean and covering his favourite shirt in snot.

“gross!”

“i’m sorry. i wanted to get a tissue but they’re too far away. i didn’t want to leave the burrito.”

“it’s fine,” he grumbles, begrudgingly patting you on the head to tell you it’s okay despite ruining his shirt. “let’s finish the movie.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

“would you still love me if i told you the truth?”

satan tries to hide his piqued interest, like he usually does. he likes to come off as the too–cool–to–show–i–care kind of guy but the truth is, he is more invested in this truth than anything else.

he nonchalantly turns the page of his book and with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, he asks, “what truth?”

“that i’m really a lizard.”

well, he wasn’t expecting that.

he watches you intently over the pages of his book. you stop pacing around the library and make your way to him, showing no expression on your face. usually, he would be quite good at reading your face but in all honesty, he can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“a lizard?”

you nod. “a lizard.”

“you don’t look like a lizard.”

“that’s because i’m a lizard pretending to be a human.”

“a what now?” he shuts his book, sitting upright from his laid position. he tried his hardest not to give in to your silly but mysterious notion but he is far more interested in your explanation.

“you know about the lizard people, right?”

“i do not.”

“so i just exposed myself for nothing?”

“what in the devildom are you talking about?”

“it doesn’t matter. forget i said anything. if anyone finds out i told you, i could get killed.”

“please tell me that isn’t true.”

silence.

you refuse to even look him in the eye. surely, you are joking. there’s no way you’re really a lizard, let alone it be possible for lizards to be secretly living inside of humans. what kind of conspiracy would that be?

it’s unimaginable, even for demons. but whether the lizard thing is true or he’s falling for a joke, you still need an answer to your question.

“yes,” he pulls you into his side. “i would still love you if you were really a lizard.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

“asmo,” you sing the demon of lust’s name, catching the attention that he would devote to you at any given moment. “can i ask you something?”

“go ahead, my dearest. fire away.”

he winks, hoping it would be something on the more flirtatious side, but instead you fill his mind with a grotesque image.

“what would you do if you could never touch me again?”

he immediately smothers you with a hug. “what are you talking about?! of course, that would never happen!”

“but what if?” you snuggle into him further. “what if you could never touch me?”

he hums, thinking of any solution to be able to touch you again.

“i’d cry,” he says simply. “i’d cry a lot.”

“aww,” you pout. “i don’t want you to cry.”

“and i don’t want to imagine a world where i can’t hold you like this,” he kisses your lips, “where i can’t kiss you like this,” he lifts up your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, “where i can’t hold your hand like this.”

“asmo….”

“i don’t know what would ever cause me to never be able to touch you again, but it would be the end of my world if it came true. i don’t know if i’d be able to live.”

“you’d still be able to see me and speak to me.”

“but not being able to touch you when i see you and hear you is the most painful torture imaginable. but you know what that means, right?”

“what does it mean?” you squeal and his hands tickle your sides.

“it means i need to do all the touching i can now to make up for it!”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

“hey, beel?”

“yeah?”

your quiet voices fill the dark path home from rad. beel always walks you home; be it in comfortable silence or deep conversations, you don’t imagine walking home any other way.

and the quiet air of the evening provides the perfect chance to ask him a question you’ve been waiting to ask all day.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“if i had five million cheeseburgers and you could only eat them if you slapped me in the face, what wou—”

“i’d slap you in the face.”

“i didn’t even finish my question.” you yelp, brows furrowing in frustration.

“you don’t need to finish it. i’d do anything to eat that many cheeseburgers.”

your feet plant in the ground and beel doesn’t stop walking until your hand which holds his pulls him back.

“are you serious?”

“uhmm….i think so?”

you’re grateful for the fact that he’s rethinking his answer but it was a shock to hear him say he’d slap you so firmly in the beginning. it was a stupid question to ask in the first place, but you never imagined beel ever wanting to hurt you.

he tugs on your hand and you continue walking with him, picking up the pace to get home.

“mc….” he asks. “did i say something wrong?”

his obliviousness to his own words is a harder slap in the face than the slap he promised those five million burgers.

“you said you’d slap me, beel, and it makes me sad.”

“hm….we can go halfsies on the burgers?”

“huh?”

“i’ll slap you and then we can share the burgers.” he promises. “you’d feel bad because i slapped you. and i’d feel bad because i slapped you. so to make it better for both of us, we can split the cheeseburgers.”

you look at him, astounded because you don’t know if his explanation makes his answer better or worse.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

a cuddling session in the attic with belphegor is exactly what you needed after a long, draining day. you naturally made your way up to him as soon as you had some free time, desperate for his warmth.

but belphie had a different warmth in mind with all the kisses he litters up and down your neck.

“belphie, i’m tired.” you whine, but still urge him on to kiss you harder.

“then close your eyes. i’ll kiss you until you fall asleep.”

your heart swarms with the thrill of his words, the promise of being here and showering you with affection even on your worst days.

“is something wrong?” he asks.

“no. why?”

“you’re not falling asleep.”

“that’s because you’re kisses are keeping me awake.”

“they’re meant to help you fall asleep.”

“i hate to break it to you belphie, but they’re having the opposite effect.” you tease.

“is that so?” he nibbles you ear. “what about this?”

you arch into his body, sensitive from his kisses and now the more urgent movements of his lips ignite a fire in your belly. his lips graze you, teeth nip you and tongue swipe over your skin. he sucks hard enough to leave bruises, and kisses softly on every mark he leaves.

“belphie….” the soft whisper of his name catches his attention. “how many ghosts do you think are watching us right now?”

he ceases for a moment, then lifts his head from the crook of your neck. “what?”

“what if there’s ghosts watching us right now? and what if they keep watching us while we….you know….?”

“i never thought of that before.”

“it’s weird, right?”

“definitely. let’s never have sex again.”

[totheblood]

shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 

And everything went black. 

[buuniebaby]

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

[etheries1015]

Heheha!!! Could I request about being Lilia Vanrouge's personal "stress ball"? (Aka relieve of stress via sex)

And he just LOVES degrading you and doing stuff to make you cry and beg?

Imagine if he like, makes you go on his cock while he's lying down, and he just orders you to pleasure him because he's too lazy too (what a lie) and he will randomly snap his hips at random times up just to see your reaction. Then it would go to full-blown fucking after a while, but y'know, you get it

Fingering you while you're blindfolded and you have to guess which finger he's using. Get it wrong, and you don't get to cum! But he lies, and makes you beg to cum. Fucks you into tomorrow, ehe!

Etc, etc...

Then imagine that after the war, he realises that he actually likes you! Confession? Fluff? And more smut? Lol my brain is now empty, pls expand.

AHHHHHHHHHH I READ THIS A COUPLE TIMES OVER BECAUSE IT'S SO GOOD??? moister than an oyster over here eheheheheh I wrote something pretty similar about this concept of Lilia taking home a human sex toy, it is very short and not in-depth but you can take a read of it -> HERE hehehe

This might be a little dark, so warning you... 18+ below with some dark themes, a bit of non-con sprinkled in there. Rough fucking, Lilia a little mean :[ but he turns out pretty soft hearted after it all <3 mildly rushed, hopefully you still enjoy <3

But I LOVE to imagine the fact that it starts out as just a fling- a way for him to let out his anger and frustrations through pleasurable means. To see you cry out as he continues to thrust into you- the chains on your hands making your wrists become sore. You kind of liked this, though, being tied up and used as the Generals release. Something about it was enticing to you, despite the toll it sometimes takes upon your body.

He lets you free of course, but he loves the way you tighten around him and how much more warm you feel when you're chained up. There's times when he comes back utterly exhausted from the days endeavors, sitting down with his head tilted back and his hands covering his eyes, legs spreading. His gaze flickers down to your needy body, before he unzips his pants pulling out his cock. Soft at first, before he tells you to entertain him enough to get him hard.

If you weren't able to properly arouse him- you'd be punished for it either later or in that moment. Depends how "tired" he is.

"You understand I've had a long day, don't you, my little bat? You can't even get me hard all by yourself. I guess I have to do all of the work, don't I?" He grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing your head into the pillow before roughly grabbing you by the hips and pulling your ass to meet his pelvis. He grinds into you before tearing your pants, your feeble whines falling upon deaf ears as he pumps his cock a time or two before entering your hole painfully slow. Now you're whining for a different reason- Lilia chuckling at such neediness. All at once he suddenly snaps his hips against your ass, leaving marks upon the back of your neck almost drawing blood. Your punishment, he says.

Over time, you felt as if Lilia was getting "bored" of you. He was coming home later than usual and didn't call upon your services as often. But this was far from the truth. He started to find himself...interested in you. Once he walked in on you indulging in your hobby, simply existing. You were so beautiful in that moment in his eyes- the way you were focusing on your task, now allowing the outside world to interfere with your happiness in that moment. Being so used to seeing hatred and bloodshed, Lilia almost forgot what it was like to be happy. He began to realize that you were indeed more than just a toy to be used at his disposal, and with this slight change of heart, he began to treat you differently.

Coming closer to the end of the war, instead of keeping you up all night to have his way with you, it would be spent asking you questions and talking about what life would be like after the war. Your hopes and dreams, your hobbies, your future plans. He began to bring you heartier food and random trinkets he felt would suite your interests, even bringing you a peony at some point, not without a deep blush and quickly disappearing into thin air almost as if to avoid your reaction. He was becoming gentler, and you weren't sure how to feel about it. Was it a trap? Was he getting your hopes up to take you by surprise? After all, you spent so long thinking you had not much worth besides being used for his sick and twisted pleasure.

Once the war was officially declared as over, you were his first visit. The first on his mind in which he wanted to share this moment, running swiftly to the cottage in which you took shelter in. You were standing in front of the garden with a smile on your face as he came back to you.

During that period in which he began to treat you differently, you had also become much more light hearted and comfortable around the fae. Perhaps a mistake you often wondered about, yet you continued on with reckless abandon nonetheless. "Lilia! It's finally over! I'm so proud-" You were cut off as he ran to you and immediately smashed his lips against yours. He had never kissed you so gently yet so passionately at the same time- his hands snaking around your body and pulling you close, almost like...a hug. Your heart dropped for a moment- thinking perhaps this was the time in which he decided to ravage you. When the war was over and worries were off his mind- he could have his way with you once again. How twisted.

"...Shall I go get my chains?" He was startled at this, pulling away and looking you in the eyes with a hint of sadness and guilt. He shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours with his hands trembling as he cupped your cheeks, peering into your eyes.

"No more chains," He muttered, "I thought I made it clear that you are not worth your body to me anymore. I apologize if I did not make that clear, my little bat." The nickname he had chosen for you sounded much softer, much more kind, and in the most loving tone, unlike the degradation you were subjected to. You bit your bottom lip as if to hide a giddy smile, Lilia taking notice of this and pressing a kiss against your forehead. The war was over, and Lilia had finally confessed his feelings for you.

The first time you two have sex, he asked permission.

"Can we...I..." He was stuttering over his words. Lilia was so used to taking what he wanted from you that it felt almost weird and awkward to ask for permission- but he promised to do it right.

"I would like to make love with you."

This time, he was gentle. Taking his time with you. He gently lay your back against the bed and propped your legs over his shoulders, bending over to pepper kisses around your face and love marks on your chest. He asked you if you were alright, and was certain to prep you before entering. Your fingers interlocked with each other, his thrusts were short and intimate yet reached the deepest parts of you. This time, it was for your pleasure- not just his own for the taking. With every thrust and every whispered "I love you's" came with praise you were unfamiliar with. This wasn't the same general who simply used you to fill to the brim and bark orders at, this was someone who wanted you to feel the love with every stroke of his hips and dulcet words that left his once fiery mouth.

it's truly a wonder how much people can change.

( @mellowwillowy I think you'd enjoy this one, pookie)

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone. 

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger. 

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-” 

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”  

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

[slytherinshua]

SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH

genre. fluff. warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread pairing. eric x fem!reader. wc. 951. request. no. a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it. net. @deoboyznet

“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”

You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…

As if.

“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.

“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.

“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.

“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s. 

“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.

“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.

“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing. 

“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.

“What if instead of walking—”

Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply. 

“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air. 

“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.

It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently. 

It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.

Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself. 

He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.

He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Romance Era- Heartslabyul

A/n: It took me a bit to think of how to like...structure this but by dorm, by boy, and bullet-pointed was the best way to get this out. Hehehe. You guys enjoy these cursed Headcanons!

(Should I add the Period Saga tag list to this???)

||Heartslabyul|| Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore + Ignihyde ||Diasomnia||

It started off as a normal afternoon. You and your boyfriend just laid down for an impromptu nap, cuddled close together and safe in each other's arms. So you can imagine their surprise when they wake up to find the bed spotted with blood. Pulling the blankets back, they see the blood coming from you...

FIRST REACTION

Riddle

Freaks out. Just, he's trying to call an ambulance, he's ready to rain hell fire, he will actually chop someone's head off. He is honestly hyperventilating, just TEARS. How could this HAPPEN!?

The freak out was so intense that it freaks you out too until you catch back up mentally and realize, 'Oh wait, it's just my period.'

You'll have to calm him down before you start explaining because he's ready to commit murder and combust all at once. Just hold him and cuddle for a minute, he needs it.

So many fucking questions. For both of your sakes, let's hope you have a deep medical understanding of your period because he will accept nothing less in your answers.

Trey

Freak Out pt 2

Much less than Riddle, but man is CONCERNED. What do you MEAN you're bleeding out of your pussy and it's NORMAL???

Asks questions but keeps interrupting to be like 'What???'. Is trying his best but it's very clear he's having some type of internal crisis that's barely contained.

Once you've explained, he'll be pretty normal about it. You will catch him sending your crotch worried glances, but he will ignore you pointing it out.

Cater

He was .2 seconds away from calling the police and an ambulance and the National Guard and starting a live stream to call his followers to do a manhunt-

Does NOT believe you saying a period was normal. It is so out of the REALM of normal, this is not a funny joke. Oh Seven, you're SERIOUS.

You telling him about periods is lowkey destroying his world. Every little fact you give he's kinda just pacing the room giving you YouTuber reaction faces. Keeps repeating his questions because he hopes so badly you're joking and he's trying to trip you up.

Once he's accepted that this is just a THING YOU DO??? he's so tired. Just takes a moment to sit with his head in his hands. Let him just stew for a bit. He'll pop back up and ask if you need anything or if you want him to even be there. He will leave if you tell him to but he will then spiral when he gets back to his room.

Ace

What the FUCK!?

Thinks you somehow fell and just started bleeding. Literally so scared and freaked out that it looped into him just calling you a fucking dumbass while he tries to take your pants off to help.

He thinks you're lying. You're either lying to protect whoever hurt you or you're lying to keep him from ripping you a new asshole for hurting yourself this badly somehow. Takes a few tries for him to finally accept that you're telling him the truth.

'What the fuck, that's so fucking weird.' Lowkey grossed out, asks you WHY YOU DO IT (Like you can control it, dumbass)

Deuce

You got a grace period of about 20 seconds to explain before he just goes out to beat the shit out of some random NRC NPC who's been eyeing you up. His brain will fill in the blanks and he will act accordingly to whatever horror story he comes up with.

If you manage to explain in time, he is just CONCERNED. Asks if you're in pain, can he hug you? Wait do you want to be hugged? Should he leave? Wait are you just bleeding right now???

You could be talking and trying to explain more or try to calm him down but his eyes keep drifting to your crotch in minor horror. His brain is his own greatest enemy at that moment.

Lowkey he is scared, but very willing to be helpful.

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY?

Riddle

Once he's had a good cry and cuddle, he is like the most annoying nursemaid.

He will order you to go to bed and STAY THERE until you've stopped bleeding.

It's a hard learning curve on what you really need to make your period comfortable, but give him a loose idea of what you want and he will do his best to get it for you. Loves having a nice cup of tea with you at night to help with your cramps.

He will collect all your homework and ask Ace and Deuce to take very good notes for you because he better not see you out of bed during this.

Once he's done with classes, he comes straight to Ramshackle to do chores and sit with you. Helps you do homework in bed, hand feeds you tarts that he had Trey make.

All-in-all, once he's out of class, you've got him all to yourself as a little butler.

If you have PMS irritability, though, watch out he will debate back with you and you'll have a screaming match.

Was really concerned about the blood mainly the blood getting on him, but give him one good puppy dog look and he's in the bed with you to cuddle.

Trey

This man is catering you your whole period. You don't even need to look at the kitchen because Trey is already putting food in your mouth.

A worrier, so the second he sees you in pain he's gonna try to give you something to eat, be it sweets or a nice soup.

Is fine with you walking around but if you do get really bad cramps, he'll try to convince you to stay home.

This man is large and his hands are big. Ask him and he will massage your back for you. Kneads you like dough.

Starts carrying little pain potions for quick relief but doesn't want to give you too many of them over the course of the week.

Super good at handling you if you have PMS mood swings since he's used to keeping Riddle from killing Ace and Deuce. Could possibly backfire though because sometimes you just wanna be angry and he's ruining that by being so helpful and understanding.

He was more concerned about your comfort but once he knows you WANT to cuddle he will be right in the bed with you until you kick him out.

Cater

Help him. He's trying to be fun-loving Cay-Cay but then he'll see you in the distance and he cant even pretend to be ok.

Kinda hovers but doesn't say anything until you do.

You've thrown him out of his element, and he's not even sure how to approach you.

Starts to manage when he approaches it like when his sisters would fight each other. Only it's you just fighting with your own body.

Best cuddler. He gets the pillows, the blankets, the candles you like. Turns his phone off and just HOLDS YOU. The phone comes back when you've fallen asleep so he can watch videos.

God, PMS emotions are a whole new battlefield that he's barely surviving. If you get it please warn him. He has his methods but he's gotta KNOW he needs to prep them.

Ace

Are you still doing that bleeding thing?

Acts like your period is the most annoying thing you decided to do.

Fucking protective as fuck. Will bully the other first years if they crowd around you in worry.

Though he acts inconvenienced, he will do whatever you ask of him with minimal whining.

Pretends you're begging him to cuddle with you when he's just crawling into the bed with you. Lowkey very nice to cuddle with because he normally has very warm hands.

The cause of the PMS anger like 4/5 times...

Deuce

He will carry everything for you. Is that actually helping? Not really but he's doing what feels right.

Tell him you want anything and he will get it. He has taken food out of Ace’s hands and given it to you.

It's kinda hilarious because he'll be going about his day normally, but then you'll call him and everyone watches this man drop EVERYTHING to see what you need.

Buys whatever you asked for in bulk, even if he doesn't need to. He thinks he's being helpful by buying you 5 bags of party-sized chips and 10 2-liters of the drink you wanted when you only asked for one of each.

He has just given in to the fact his hoodies are yours now. Wonders if he'll get them back once the period is over...

AFTER THE FACT

Riddle

He's now got your period placed on a calendar. Down to the day.

He's very proud that he already has your next period marked down on his schedule, everything is set

What do you MEAN you're not on your period? What do you MEAN your period came early!? He had a perfectly balanced schedule, what do you MEAN IT'S NOT ALWAYS 28 DAYS APART!?

Very upset if your period ever dares to 'go off schedule'. Manages to properly track it after a few months. Normally tells you when you're alone that your period is coming up.

He will ask you if you're on your period if he sees it coming up and you're upset. Please don't hit him, he's honestly asking.

Trey

WOW, that was...something...and it's gonna happen again huh???

Man's kinda dreading the next period but he does spend his downtime thinking up new recipes to give you during it.

Actually really thinks about the fruit and sugar content and how it could affect you, which fruits are good for cramping. Can he make something chilled for the headaches?

Doesn't really track your period but he will be extra conscious on your mood changes and then backtrack the days in his head to see if what he thinks is happening is.

Asks if you're ok instead if he thinks you're on your period; like a fucking decent human being.

Cater

Jesus fucking Christ, 28 days? Yeah, he'll manage to think up an actual game plan to deal with this by then. He doesn't, he fumbles through your period for a good few more times before he becomes well-versed.

He has an alarm set for the next 28 days. Lowkey forgot about your period until it happens again or when his alarm goes off for it.

Starts carrying extra pairs of your underwear and keeps one of his hoodies on him during your period. For emergencies.

Once he KNOWS you're on your period he will show up with a gift basket he put together of all your favorite things.

Wants to ask so fucking bad if you're on your period when your mood is weird, but knows better and likes not getting the spit slapped out of his mouth.

Ace

Complained more than you did during the whole thing. Acts like he isn't making the most deeply engrained mental reminder of everything that happened.

Doesn't so much as track it as he's now more aware of your mood changes during the month.

He normally asks if 'You're doing that thing again...' when he sees you kinda just lounging around miserable.

Still a brat but if you're actually having a tough period he will cuddle up and be your hot water bottle until the real one heats up.

Surprisingly doesn't ask if you're on your period during arguments. He knows next to nothing about periods but knows he will get his neck snapped if he asked that while you were already mad at him.

Deuce

So seriously asks you if you have to do that again.

Doesn't want to potentially embarrass you so he helps in tracking it by putting a red dot in his calendar for his own peace of mind. Forgets what the fuck it means after seeing it come up three weeks later.

Weirdly becomes able to sense when you start your period. Like to the minute.

You'll be in Ramshackle and your period starts. Deuce just suddenly stops at track practice like 'Something just happened...'

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY? ♡NSFW♡

Riddle

You want him to WHAT?

Getting Riddle to fuck is hard enough as it is. You want him to do it while you're BLEEDING???

It takes a lot of talking and actually telling him the orgasms help with the cramping for him to agree. But even then he's very embarrassed and you can only do it in the shower together.

He'll act scandalized for an hour afterward but he is happy he helped ease your pain a bit.

Trey

What?

Like you both have sex regularly, he didn't think you'd...want to...while...okay...

Kinda awkward with it starting out but slowly gets more used to the idea.

He's gotta be extra cautious with cleanup since the blood is everywhere, but if it means you gotta take one less pain potion he'll do his part.

Not really into period sex, but if you ask he will help you. He just starts investing in some thick towels because he likes doing it on the bed with you.

Cater

...Yeah, Okay

Lowkey so confused but if you say it'll help, he'll help.

Really likes to finger you. Fucking paints his nails red during your period so no one makes a single comment on why his fingertips look pinkish.

Will get his clones involved if you ask him to/let him. Makes it a fun game on what's most sensitive, your pussy or your nipples?

Ace

"Gross, sure."

Literally what he says while already undoing his pants.

Like he flip-flops through your period as either being very supportive or the literal reason you're about to knock his teeth out. You have not been fucking.

So him hearing that orgasms help during this??? He's saying yes every time you ask and even offering when he sees you cramping.

Does make a comment on the period blood making it super easy to slide in. Lowkey kinda looks forward to period sex now.

Deuce

Is that...Safe???

Takes a bit of talking since, as far as he's seen, everything is achy and sensitive and you are very not in the mood like that. Not really the right setting for sex...

But once he's assured, he goes at it like getting you to orgasm is his fucking job.

Be warned, he will get into it and do his best to give you back-to-back orgasms. Overstimulation be damned.

[ohthewh0rror]

SECRET.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — You don’t want to hide yours and theo’s relationship.

Pairing: Theo Nott X Reader

Word Count: 894

‘Where is that damn book,’ you thought to yourself, eyes scanning through the row of books in front of you. You were just about to give up, figuring someone must have checked it out, when a hand came to rest gently in the middle of your back. Immediately, your head whipped to the right, ready to give said person a piece of your mind. But, your mouth shut as quickly as it opened when a familiar head of brown hair came into view.

Theo only gave you a glance before looking back at the books in front of him, the hand that was once on your back was now by his side, his knuckles lightly brushing yours, “find what you’re looking for?”. His words were barely above a whisper, and you wondered which one of his friends were nearby to have him acting like this. “No,” was the only answer you gave him, frustration leaking through your tone. Taking a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you saw a smile trying to creep onto his face.

“You think anyone will notice if I stole a kiss from you?” He asked, voice still barely above a whisper as his slender fingers plucking a random book off the shelf. Your face felt hot as a blush crept across your cheeks at the question, you were about to answer him when you heard Draco’s voice cut through the silence, asking Theo if he was done. He gave Draco a curt, “yeah,” leaving you with a parting nod goodbye.

It wasn’t until later that day you saw him again. You were on the way to your dorm, having just said goodbye to your friends. All you could hear was your shoes dragging against the cool stone of the castle, taking your time getting back to the opening of your common house. As you walked, alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed about how you spent your day. You’d wanted to see Theo, but the only time you’d run into him today was at the library.

You weren’t sure why you and Theo hadn’t gone public with your relationship yet. The two of you had been together for 6 months now, but not a single soul besides you and him knew. Maybe you could ask him about coming clean when you see him again. You were tired of hiding! You wanted to be able to kiss him whenever, go on dates to Hogsmeade, hold his hand in between classes, or even just openly talk to him. Anything would be better than sneaking around, pretending the two of you didn’t know each other.

You must have been deeper in thought than you realized because when a hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around to face them, you let out a short yelp. Your other hand instinctively came up to hit the offending person, but they caught you by your wrist before you could. As your brain registered who grabbed you, your body sagged in relief. Theo’s laugh echoes through the hall, as you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

Never in your short time of knowing Theo did you think you’d ever feel the urge to hit him, but as you looked at the stupid smile on his face, you almost couldn’t help yourself. “You almost scared me to death!” You exclaimed, ripping your wrist out of his grasp. The smile never left Theo’s face as the hands that were just restraining you came back to cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands came to rest on his chest, attempting to push him away, so you could tear him a new one, but he pulled you back in as soon as you pushed him away.

“I missed you today,” you confessed once he pulled away. Theo’s expression softened, his thumbs running over the fat of your cheeks as he took your words in, “and I miss you, love.” If there was any better opportunity to bring up wanting to go public it was now, but the words seem to get caught in your throat, causing you to go quiet. Theo eyed your face, waiting on you to speak. The patience he had with you made your chest ache with a growing feeling of love for him. Your feelings were growing more serious by the day, you needed to tell him you wanted to go public, to see if he was feeling the same as you.

Deciding to just ‘rip the band-aid off’, you told him, “I want to tell our friends we’re together.” Theo’s relaxed expression morphed into one of mild surprise, not having expected you to tell him that. His surprise didn’t last long as a smile stretched across his face, “I’d love that.”

You didn’t know how Theo was going to let his friends know, but when you walked into the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast, what you didn’t expect was Theo to be waiting for you on the other side of the entrance. Grabbing your hand, he brought you to the Slytherin table. Stopping in front of his small group of friends, he introduced you to them, “this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

[valsdelulucorner]

LOVE THE MERMAID AU FOR OBEY ME

Love em so much 🥹

Idk what to even ask about or say to be honest. my brain turns so empty when i get in the ask box haha 😅

If your asks and stuff are open then Uhmmmmmmmm i think maybe.... ... If you're not taking requests then don't worry about this! I love your stuff and also i get that burnout and needing a break from social media stuff is a thing!

Also i genuinely can't think right now... I kinda hoped that if i kept typing I'd come up with something, kinda like how sometimes rambles help with word flow but eh hhhhh.

I definitely like mermaid au obey me stuff.... And i like making arts and crafts... So maybe reactions to reader making lil stuff from either the island or shipwrecks for the mer brothers?

Also I definitely want you to know i love your stuff and i really liked your Rook Hunt drawing and i LOVE THE MERMAID AU and I'll be back if i come up with anything to say (can't tell you how long i spent just typing random words and rambling and then deleting them trying to get my thoughts and words to flow 😅 I'm so tired)

please, this made me cry😭 you are so sweet, i really do appreciate this. I've been through abit of a rough patch with college so this just made me feel better<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mer-brothers with a artsy MC

Ever since MC got stranded on the island and made friends with 7 mer-folk, they found out there wasn't much to do whenever they were alone and away from the brothers. So one day, MC decided to entertain themselves by going exploring, heading deep into the forest in the middle of the island only to find some players, a messy journal, a surprisingly dry pencil, a few little things of paint mixer, a sharp poking tool, and a whole box of un-rusted wire.

MC was over the moon after finding the box of supplies, eagerly taking it back to the cove through the land entrance. The brothers were just coming back from a bountiful hunt out near the reefs, each bringing in some sort of edible sea creature behind them. Mammon was the first to notice you fiddling with a box of stuff and left his meal in his designated pool, the fins on the end of his tail hiding it from a hungry beel.

His head was tilted in confusion as you fussed over a ratty looking box, wasn't the sparkly treasure chest he brought back to the cove not good enough that you had to resort to a old wooden crate? It wasn't until caught a glimpse of you already starting to bend and twist the wire that he started to get more curious, hauling himself up onto the rock and crawling over to you.

The others only notice this when they hear mammon start to stutter out words, looking over to see you holding his wrist and hand while holding the wire carefully for measurements. It doesn't take long until they are all up on the rock near your little box to investigate what you are doing, all of them asking questions here and there while you bend and twist the wire to fix around Mammons wrist comfortable. It was this moment that opened up a lot more opportunities to keep yourself entertained when the brothers where away.

The brothers would come back and randomly find little rocks painted with home made paint you made with random crushed materials mixed with paint mixer. They would find little charms, necklaces, rings, piercings and bracelets you made on your little ledge inside the cove. As much as they would like to look at your drawings, they would have to wait for their hands to dry before touching the paper.

It was when they found out you carved a little whale out of whale bone with a sharp rock where they started to try and find more arty supplies for you whenever they go out and hunt. They love seeing your little creations, they would be even more amazed if you made them a little piece for them to keep.

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Lucifer- He gets some cute little waist jewelry from you made from pearls, rope, and small bits of wire. He enjoys it because it helps keeps up his waist cloth like a belt, plus it makes his waist nicer. He thanked you for it and was pleasantly surprised when it kept his waist cloth up

Mammon- He was the jewelry tester so he got a lot of piercings and waist jewelry out of wire and treasures he finds. He constantly wears your little creations and even brings you little gems and treasure he finds pretty, risking it for you to make some more jewlery

Leviathan- He gets a little bracelet made of wire, shell, and little gems which complements his Ruri Chan bracelet that he found. His face turned beat red when you gave it to him, he hasn't taken it off yet

Satan- He gets some fin jewelry made from pure wire, with just one or two little green gems mammon found for you to use. The pieces fit perfectly on his sharp fins and was probably the longest you've spent on a piece for someone. He smiled softly when you were taking the measurements, he looks beautiful yet deadly

Asmodeus- He got a little necklace made from whale bone, rope, and pearls, and cute little pink gems. You carved a little flower from the whale bone and used the pink gem for the middle of it, the pearls mixed in and intertwined with the rope. Squealed when he saw it, he loved it so much and had you help him put it on

Beelezubub- You made a little tail charm for him made out of rope and shell (giving surfer dude), little pieces of wire mixed into it to make sure the shell stays on. He smiled as he now matched with belphie with the tail charm, and it doesn't get in the way of hunting so he loves it

Belphegor- You made him a necklace made out of the same material as Beels tail charm, the shells being purple instead of a orangey brown colour. He didn't realize you put the necklace on him at first until he went out hunting with beel, smiling softly as his precious new necklace caught him easy prey

Overall, they love to see your little creations and how they decorate the little cove they call home. How glad they were that Lucifer saved you that day and brought you to the island

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I love getting requests like this, its just so sweet<3 This was so fun to write about, i loved the Idea of arty MC. Sorry this fell more into wire crafts and jewelry, my friend has been showing me some really cool earrings and they became a big inspo

What should I do next?

[goblinontour]

Subtle Indications

a journey in good company

part 1 | series masterlist

warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 6.6k

“Yes?” you said as you finally snapped out of the little bubble of thoughts that made you ignore the first three times he called your name.

You thought you recognised his voice, but you weren’t quite sure, after all, you never really expected to see your professors outside in the ‘real world’, per se, as weird as that might sound. It was as if that invisible barrier broke and those two realities collided the moment you looked up and your eyes met his.

It was, of course, none other than…Mr. Turner…your favourite.

“I got the seat, uhm, there” he said, pointing at the empty window seat next to you.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” you scrambled to move your bag from his place and almost started to get up to make space for him to walk through, but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just squeeze through.” he told you as he saw you getting nervous, giving you a slight smile, just to be polite, you thought.

He looked a bit…dishevelled. His hair messy and pointing in all different directions, his eyes tired. He must’ve just woken up and come straight to the train station. He almost missed it too, getting on just as the train was about to leave.

Speaking of leaving, right as he was moving through the small space between, well, you, and the table separating the seats opposite, the train started moving, and he lost his balance, nearly falling on top of you if it weren’t for the handle of your seat that he managed to grab just in time.

“Sorry” he murmured as he regained his composure and finally sat down next to you, fixing his brown leather bag neatly on the table by the window.

You smiled at him, though he didn’t seem to notice, because as soon as he sat that bag down he scrambled to bring it back to his lap, searching for something he couldn’t seem to find. You tried not to pry too much into the contents, instead bringing your focus back to the book in your hand you only now noticed you were holding way too tight, the pages almost breaking where your fingers were holding it open so you wouldn’t lose the spot where you left off before he showed up.

You couldn’t help yourself from glancing at him. It turned out he was looking for his sunglasses, slipping them on despite no sunshine seeping through the window that would warrant the need for them.

You continued to read, thinking he probably doesn’t want to be bothered by a random student in his free time, but the words you kept reading over and over wouldn’t register in your brain, your mind just being filled by thoughts of him. Where was he going? You stole another glance, noticing the way his gaze drifted out the window, lost in thought. What could he possibly be thinking about? Curiosity tugged at you, wondering what might be occupying his mind so deeply. Was it the weight of his responsibilities as a professor, or perhaps something more personal? You found yourself yearning to unravel everything about him.

Some time passed, he didn’t get off at any of the stops in the city, so he was going away too, just like you. Though he had nothing else but his usual bag he also brought to class every day? Questions kept going through your mind, questions that will probably never get answered, so you pushed them away and really tried to focus on your reading, not that it was anything important…quite the opposite.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked out of the blue and only then you noticed he was looking straight at the book in your hands. Embarrassment filled your body as you realised he could clearly see the pages from the small distance between you, considering that the contents weren’t particularly…appropriate. To say the least, you definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to see, and if you weren’t so daft you would have realised that just because he had his shades blocking you from seeing his eyes, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t see either.

“Nothing.” you said as you slammed the book closed, making this way bigger of a deal than it should have been. He wouldn’t invade your privacy and read that, he was probably just trying to be polite, you thought, again. And you just embarrassed yourself by acting like a little girl getting caught by her parents doing something she shouldn’t be doing. “It's just a- it’s a dumb thing.” you continued, face flushed as you got the courage to look up. You weren’t expecting to be met by his eyes staring straight at you, his glasses now perched perfectly on the top of his head, looking effortlessly cool.

“No, it’s not.” he quickly muttered “I liked it.” he said, almost in a whisper, like he was hiding his own embarrassment of reading while you were not aware.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected admission. His words hung in the air, filling the space between you with a charged tension. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you, mingled with a hint of fluster. Mr. Turner, the Mr. Turner, your professor whose lectures you hung onto with fervour, actually enjoyed the book-thing, whatever, you were reading, a book you probably shouldn’t have been reading in public in the first place, all things considered.

His confession felt like the bridge you were currently passing, connecting the gap between you, somehow starting to blur the boundaries of student and teacher, revealing the shared raw human need beneath. You couldn't resist the urge to smile, the blush spreading over your entire face.

"I didn't expect you to...I mean, I'm glad you liked it." you replied, your voice coming out soft, yet slightly trembling, urging you to clear your throat as you tried to regain your composure.

His own smile mirrored yours, a subtle curve of his lips that spoke volumes. “You can go on…if you’d like…of course.”

Your heart raced at his invitation to continue reading. With a shy nod, you opened the book once more, the words on the page suddenly feeling more significant than before. As you kept reading, you couldn't shake the feeling of his presence beside you, his quiet breathing and occasional rustle of papers adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were surprised when Mr. Turner spoke again, his voice breaking the tense silence like a gentle wave on the shore. "Would you mind if…" he said quietly, his tone soft, implying with a gesture of his hands that he wished to read along with you.

Once again settling in silence, your ability to form words completely gone in that moment, you brought the book closer to him, almost invading his half of the seats, but not quite. He knew you’d finished the page you were currently on, so you watched as he licked the tips of his fingers, his tongue just peeking out from behind his pink lips, and with his smooth digits he picked up the corner of the page, flipping it over to uncover the not yet discovered words lying underneath. A mixture of excitement, nervousness, and a budding sense of connection filled you, that left you yearning for more.

As the journey continued, you found yourself eager to explore more than just the pages of a book with him, but you could never act on those thoughts, you wouldn’t dare.

Luckily, he took that step for you, his arm carefully inching closer to you, and while his eyes were locked on the page in front of him, you could tell he was closely examining you for any tiny reaction that would indicate he should stop.

When his hand reached your own seat, his little finger twitched in his attempt to touch you, the small, almost insignificant contact sending electricity through you, eliciting a soft gasp from your mouth. In that moment, the train rattling along its tracks faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared understanding…and perhaps…unravelling the mysteries of his mind along the way.

“Keep reading.” he whispered quietly enough that you wouldn’t have even heard it if you weren’t so focused on everything that meant him in that moment.

It’s as if he knew exactly what the next page was going to contain:

“His fingers inadvertently grazed her leg, sending a thrill through both of them. Their eyes met, a fleeting moment of hesitation followed by a silent acknowledgment of the forbidden allure between them.”

Had he read this before? Did he-

“Go on.” he encouraged you, his gaze still on the page, as if looking at you would make what was happening seem too real. He didn’t want to break this trance you found yourselves in.

With your pulse quickening, you continued to read, the words resonating with a startling familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. As if guided by an unseen force, you turned the page, the narrative unfolding with an eerie parallel to the electrifying tension between you and professor Turner.

“With a subtle shift, his hand moved to her panties and he grinned down at her. ‘Prepare yourself.’ he said, gently leaning her back until he was on top of her. ‘Do your worst.’ she replied, spreading her legs for him.”

Your body was working against your better judgement, following the words written on the page exactly, your legs spreading involuntarily, allowing his hand to slip between your thighs, his fingers moving with more intent now as they ever so slightly grazed your thin panties from under your skirt, your half gasp of shock, half moan of immense pleasure, caused mostly by the tension, getting stuck in your throat, your mouth opening without any sound coming out. It was barely noticeable, to anyone else, all others too busy on their own daydreams or troubles. Not that you would have noticed if anyone saw you anyway.

“Don’t stop, keep going.” he pushed, but you were stuck. You could no longer move, or focus your eyes enough on the small letters that once seemed legible, but no longer. He noticed your sort of distress, or more so just an overall startled demeanour, and he looked at you, he finally looked at you, still in silence as you stared at him and through him at the same time.

“Are you alright?” he asked. His eyes never left yours, not until he’d get his answer. His gaze held a mixture of apprehension and longing, mirroring the emotions swirling within you.

You nodded, your nerves slowly dissipating and allowing you to think for a second.

“Talk to me…please.” he pleaded, the uncertainty clear in his eyes. Did he go too far? He shouldn’t have started this it was too much, he-

“Yeah…yeah I- yes.” you choked on your words, the sounds coming out as a breathy whisper.

“Yes?” he asked again, wanting to hear a clear response from you, to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries you didn’t feel comfortable with, though you were way past that.

From the moment he saw you as he entered the train his mind was already set on this burning desire that somehow didn’t register to himself until then, when he saw your crossed legs as you were engulfed in your own world, your naked thighs sticking to the leather on the seat where your maybe too short skirt wasn’t covering them.

“Yes.” you spoke again, looking straight into his eyes and giving him the confirmation he needed to continue.

He moved closer to you, your shoulders touching as his hand between your thighs kept almost petting you over your underwear. He nuzzled his head into your neck, making you gasp as you felt his breath tickling your skin as he inhaled your scent.

“Keep reading.” he implored, his lips grazing your throat and he swore he could feel your pulse against his mouth from how fast your heart was beating.

The air crackled with anticipation as the fictional characters navigated their forbidden desires, their clandestine encounters echoing the unspoken truth that lingered between you and Alexander. God- no. You couldn’t think about him like that, he’s always strictly been just Mr. Turner, to everyone, but it felt too indecent to think of him being your professor in that moment, or perhaps that was the best part of it.

With each word, the boundary between fiction and reality blurred, drawing you both deeper into a realm where secrets were laid bare and desires dared to be fulfilled.

His hand didn’t dare stop its exploration there. As the action on the pages got more and more obscene, so did his touches, the tips of his fingers rubbing with clear intent on your covered cunt, the cotton sticking to your folds as he kept pushing deeper, spreading your wetness through the material.

“How much longer?” he asked, his lips rubbing against your skin with each movement of his mouth as he got those words out, each sound vibrating through you.

“What?” you asked confused, while still trying to keep your voice as calm and collected as possible, given the situation you found yourself in.

“Until we arrive. How much?” he clarified.

“Oh- uhm” you glanced at the screen at the end of the coach, which said it would be about 45 minutes, excluding any possible delays. “45 minutes…sir.”

“Good…” he replied, pulling away from you and settling back completely in his own seat. You didn’t even notice just how close he got, you were practically sharing one seat. “I’ll go in there.” he continued as he was neatly putting away his sunglasses again, this time in the front pocket of his bag, so he wouldn’t lose them again in the mess. He discreetly pointed towards the part of the train where the toilets were, so you’d know exactly what he meant, without having to spell it out.

He got up from his seat and said “I’ll be waiting for you”, avoiding your gaze, embarrassed by his own actions and lack of reason. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Before passing past you he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t feel pressured to come…if…if you don’t want this.” were his last words before clearing his throat and quickly slipping out of the tight space, heading right where he said he would go.

Your mind reeled as Mr. Turner's touch lingered on your skin, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't extinguish. His words, spoken with a mixture of desire and restraint, hung in the air, leaving you breathless and uncertain of what to do next. Was this really happening? This must’ve been the most surreal dream of all time, right? But it wasn’t, you were most definitely awake, the train was moving, the people around were real, this was real.

As he retreated to the train's restroom, you were left alone with your thoughts, grappling with the intensity of the moment and the implications of his actions. The train's rhythmic motion seemed to echo the turmoil in your mind, each click-clack of the tracks a reminder of the forbidden desire that simmered between you and your professor.

Minutes stretched into eternity as you wrestled with your inner turmoil, torn between the allure of indulging in this forbidden thirst and the fear of crossing a line you couldn't uncross. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remained clear: the pull of Mr. Turner's presence was undeniable, drawing you towards him with an irresistible force.

With trembling hands and a racing heart, you made your decision. As you rose from your seat and made your way down the narrow aisle of the train, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were stepping into uncharted territory, into a realm where the rules of academia and propriety no longer applied, and only the primal desires of two souls intertwined in a forbidden dance mattered.

And as you reached the door of the restroom, you took a deep breath, summoning the courage to push it open and step into the unknown, ready to surrender to the irresistible pull of passion that had drawn you together.

When you finally opened it, you noticed his hand on the knob on the other side. He was about to leave, the hope he had of you turning up almost ran out, but you showed up, and he looked down at you in a way that made you feel like there was something intriguing about the vulnerability he displayed in that moment.

“You’re here.” he gleamed, looking relieved to see you in front of him. He stayed like that, staring in disbelief for a moment, while you stood awkwardly outside the small ‘room’, not knowing what to do, how to act, what to say.

He walked back, as much as the tiny space allowed, an invitation for you to join. Inside the restroom, the air felt charged with anticipation, every breath heavy with the weight of the moment. Mr. Turner stood near the sink, his gaze fixed on you as you entered, a fusion of the undeniable desire and uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

Without a word, you closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sealing your fate. The space suddenly felt smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this delicate sanctuary, a newfound sense of intimacy blossoming between you and Mr. Turner.

Mr. Turner's hand awkwardly reached out, hesitating for a moment before brushing against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

With a silent understanding, you leaned into him, the heat of his body mingling with yours as you pressed together, lost in the intoxicating embrace of desire.

His lips found yours in a hungry kiss, a fervent expression of the need that had been building between you since that first look as he got on the train. Actually, if you were being honest with yourself, you’d admit you fantasised about him every time you sat in his class, from the moment he walked in through the door.

His tongue prodded at your mouth, and you allowed it entrance to meet your own, the energy between you changing from just hunger to proper filth. It wasn’t pretty, you were too eager, he was too needy, it was messy, but that did nothing but reel you in further, never wanting to get rid of his taste from your tongue, so sweet.

He could no longer keep his hands to himself, his palms moving to grab at you anywhere he could, wanting to touch everything, from your shoulders to your waist, your hips, each touch, each caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity you had never known.

In that moment, there were no boundaries remaining, no rules to hold you back, only the raw, unbridled passion that consumed you both.

And as the train hurtled toward its destination, you surrendered yourself to the irresistible pull of desire, knowing that in each other's arms, you had found something worth risking everything for.

Lost in the throes of passion, you revelled in the sensation of his hands exploring every inch of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The air crackled with electricity, the heat between you rising with each passing moment.

In the hazy blur of desire, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of Mr. Turner. His lips trailed a path of fire along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they travelled from your mouth to your jaw, nipping along it with his teeth, eager to taste more than just your mouth. Each kiss fueled the flames of desire that burned within you, consuming you in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

He snaked his hands around the smallest point of your waist, pulling you flush to him, keeping you as close as your bodies would permit. As you crossed your legs in need of some sort of relief, settling for anything you could get, you nudged along his crotch, sparking a groan from him. He was getting impossibly hard, you could feel it through his trousers, and your sudden touch took him by surprise, the pleasure from that one second of stimulation making him realise just how much he had to have this, to have you.

A burst of boldness came to you, urging you to get on your knees for him. And so you did. For a second his arms didn’t want to let you go but he soon realised what you were doing and he shuffled back, his arms on the edge of the sink grounding him, preventing him from simply melting to the floor, though that’s what he felt like.

Before lowering completely, you had to touch him, he touched and groped but now it was your turn, your hands sliding down the cashmere of his sweater, from his shoulders to his chest, which, when you reached, you felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms, a rhythm that matched the pounding of your own. You stopped there to give some attention to his nipples, incredibly hard, poking from underneath the soft thin material. He gasped at the feeling of your fingers running over them, his mouth agape and his chest rising with each breath he took. His gasp was music to your ears. Fuck, he was so responsive.

As you knelt before him, a rush of anticipation coursed through you, fueled by the knowledge that you held his desire in the palm of your hand. His eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and longing evident in their depths as he watched you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your hands traced a path down his body, every touch igniting a fire within both of you. His skin burned beneath your fingertips, even through the barrier of fabric, that you couldn’t stand any longer. You reached the edge of his top, your fingertips carefully prying beneath it until they reached his naked skin, so soft, the tiny hairs covering his abdomen rising at the contact, sending shivers through his entire body.

His growing bulge was screaming for you to touch it and it was something you couldn’t wait for, you wanted him in your mouth so badly. Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you burrowed your face into the tight material covering his straining erection, mouthing at him through the fabric while keeping your eyes on him, just him, the imagine of him biting his lower lip to suppress any sounds that might’ve dared to come out instantly burned into your memory, forever. His eyes bore into yours, dark with desire and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name but felt as intensely as the heat of his body seeping into you.

With his pants free of the leather that held them up and a sense of urgency that matched his own, you worked quickly to free him from the confines of his clothing, every moment spent tantalisingly close to the prize driving you to new heights of desire. You quickly worked the button and zipper that still stood in your way, finally beginning to lower them, having a bit of a struggle as the whole thing got too tight, they didn’t seem to want to slip over his bulge, but you managed, in the end.

As his pants finally yielded to your efforts, you were greeted by the sight of him, hard and ready, straining against the fabric of his boxers. The need in his eyes mirrored your own, a hunger that threatened to consume you both.

With a sense of reverence, you reached for him, your hands trembling with anticipation as you traced the outline of his erection through the thin material. His sharp intake of breath was a symphony of lust and craving, echoing through the air as you finally freed him from all the constraints keeping you apart. His cock sprung up hitting his covered tummy, the blush on his face mimicking the one of his tip, red and leaking on his top, staining the dark crimson an even deeper shade.

And then, with a daring born of passion, you lowered your head, your lips trailing a path of fire along his length as you kissed the underside, following with a lick all the way from the base to the head, more little licks and open-mouthed kisses to it. He started getting frustrated, wanting so much more. But Alex hated begging, feeling too embarrassed to do so, unless he got desperate enough. And he did. He got over himself and begged you.

“More please, sweetheart.” he asked of you. How could you possibly deny him?

With his hungry eyes raking over you, and one of his hands coming to rest on your head in encouragement, petting your hair, you took him into your mouth and he revelled in the feeling of the tender skin of your throat, the pleasurable sensation of the tight, wet heat his dick was enveloped in.

“Oh fuck…” Alex groaned “been dreaming of this, of- of you, when I–” his sentence getting cut off by a moan as his hips bucking involuntarily, pushing his cock deeper inside, his tip brushing against the back of your throat.

He caught you off guard, making you choke and splutter around his dick, pulling off with a wet pop to catch your breath, leaving his length glistening wet with your saliva. You continued stroking him with your hand, thumbing at the precum leaking from his slit and spreading it around, mixing it with your own fluids that tainted him.

“When you…what?” you probed curiously, wanting to hear him say it.

“When I touch myself.” he admitted “You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of you…on your knees…or bent over my desk.” he went on to say, trailing off into a whisper at the end, continuing his pets on the side of your head as you took him into your mouth again.

His words took a second to register to you, and you moaned pathetically around his cock, your pussy practically dripping with need from thinking of him touching himself with you in his mind. He groaned in response, feeling the vibration of your moan as it slipped from between your parted lips.

You bobbed your head up and down a couple more times before he pulled you off this time.

“Stop.” he breathed out as he was holding you gently by the hair so you wouldn’t be able to reach and touch him anymore.

“What’s wrong, did I- did I do something?” you asked, the worry and slight panic thick in your voice.

“No, no, it’s…I just need a break or I’ll come in your mouth…and I wanna be…inside…of you, sweets.” he panted. Clearly you got him quite close already, and he didn’t want this to end so soon.

He spread his arms out for you to grab and he brought you closer again, taking up your mouth with his own again. He moaned into you as he tasted himself on your tongue, and his hands around your waist were sliding dangerously low, past the curve of your ass, slowly skimming the hem of your skirt until they slipped under it, playing with the edges of your panties.

“Wanna taste you too.” he hummed against your lips “Can I? W-will you let me, please?”

“Yes, of course you fucking can…oh my god. Yes!” you said too quickly, too eager to feel him for you to hide your excitement anymore. You couldn't help but notice how Mr. Turner smiled into the kiss, giving you one last peck before turning you around, at which you automatically bent over the small sink as much as you could, arching your back to look your best for him.

He bent down behind you and you watched over your shoulder as he curiously pulled your skirt up and bunched it up as far as it would go, his eyes full of sparks as he was taking in the view before him. His hand splayed out across his lower back, tracing along the middle of your spine until he was stopped in his tracks by the lace border that adorned your underwear.

With a low growl, Mr. Turner tugged at the lace, causing a shiver to run down your spine. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of anticipation through your body. As he slowly peeled the fabric down, your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt exposed yet exhilarated, craving every sensation he was about to unleash upon you. You could feel his lips trailing along the curve of your spine, leaving a path of hot kisses in their wake. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive under his ministrations,

"Do you know how much I've been wanting to taste you?" he whispered. His words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you ache for his touch even more and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure.

He leaned into you, his warm breath teasing your skin. Time seemed to stand still as he explored every inch of you, his touch setting your body ablaze with desire. And as his lips finally found their way to where you needed him most, Mr. Turner's hands gripped your hips firmly as he moved closer, his tongue darting out to taste you.

The sensation was overwhelming, sending sparks flying behind your closed eyelids as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

He hummed against you with curious little licks that made your breath hitch in your throat. His facial hair tickled as it brushed along your folds and his tongue traced intricate patterns across your sensitive flesh, moving playfully around in little circles, feeling you out, igniting a fire that consumed your every thought. It was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You couldn't help but arch your back further, pressing yourself against him as well as the coldness of the sink as he continued his exploration with a newfound sense of boldness, licking a strip from your clit, gathering the wetness pooling, all the way to your hole.

His movements became more fervent, more urgent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. And as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, you couldn't help but cling desperately to whatever you could reach that would help keep your balance, your fingers digging around the metal tap and you found yourself gasping for air as ecstasy washed over you in waves.

Each flick of his tongue along with the vibrations flowing through you from his moaning as he was eating you out brought you closer to your release, faster than you would’ve anticipated. Perhaps it was the thrill of it all, the unexpected nature of what was happening, the fact that you probably shouldn’t be doing this, much less here.

You finally succumbed to the overwhelming sensations crashing over you, and he kept his movements as you rode the waves of pleasure, licking away at the fluids seeping from you.

When he considered it enough, his lips parted from your core and you looked back at him over your shoulder, again, greeted with the sight of him seeming a bit out of sorts, his nose red from the friction, and his lips and chin glistening from your wetness and cum, little droplets hanging onto his beard, and the smile forming on your lips was soon replaced by the ‘O’ shape your mouth was just in a few moments ago as you felt him pulling on your pussy with his fingers, the cold air hitting you deeper inside as he opened you up.

“You’re so sweet, I could eat you forever but I need to be inside you now.” he said absentmindedly while wiping down the wet mess from his face with the back of his hand, his eyes still locked on your exposed hole clenching around nothing at his admission.

With a breathless nod, you could only manage a whispered agreement as the anticipation coiled tightly within you. His words hung in the air, charged with desire, as he raised from his knees and positioned himself behind you, his hands exploring every inch of your trembling body.

“Do you have a-“ you began, but he cut you off as he figured what you were about to say, condom.

“No.” he breathed out while rubbing the side of his face into your clothed back, like how a cat would rub against you when begging for attention. “Will that stop you from wanting this?” he further questioned, the answer obvious to both of you. You’d gone too far to stop now.

“No.” you confessed, too entranced by the way you could feel his dick leaking against your arsecheeks where it was softly rubbing into your skin as he couldn’t keep his hips still, unavoidably rutting into you at a slow, almost unnoticeable pace, begging for stimulation after being ignored for too long.

“I’ll be careful…pull out.” he whispered as he finally entered you, his cock slipping in easily without any guidance from the sheer amount of wetness covering you both.

A primal moan escaped your lips, drowning in the overwhelming pleasure of being filled by him and quickly muffled by his hand as to not alert anyone else of your actions. You managed to forget about your surroundings, but he was aware of the trouble this could get both of you into if you were to be caught.

“Shhh.” he murmured into the bunched up fabric his face rested against, his other hand slipping through the tight space to reach your breast, moving your top to the side delicately to grab a hold of one of your breasts, his big hand engulfing it, the roughness of his palm feeling like heaven as it scratched your stiff sensitive nipple.

Despite the risk, you couldn't bring yourself to care, consumed by the overwhelming need for him.

He slowly started moving inside of you, gliding out almost all the way before roughly pushing back in. Picking up a sort of rhythm, although irregular and messy, each of his thrusts sent waves of ecstasy through your body, erasing any lingering doubts or worries you might’ve had about this.

It was hot and wet, fucking filthy and absolutely glorious, the indescribably lewd sounds of him fucking into you leaving you to only feel the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the world around fading into a blur, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming need to be consumed by each other, to savour this.

You started moving against him, pushing your hips back to meet every thrust of his. He could feel you mouthing something under his palm, allowing you to speak by instead dropping his hand to the edge of the small counter the sink lied on.

“Need your- ah-…fingers…on my- fuck-“ you couldn’t even form a proper sentence, getting cut off by a gasp or moan in between your words as he kept thrusting deep inside you, hitting all the right spots.

“Yeah, I got you.” he instantly complied to your wishes, quickly bringing his hand in between your legs to toy messily with your clit, quite constricted by the tight space, nevertheless accomplishing giving you the pleasure you craved. “Try to stay quiet though love.” he urged you.

You weren’t confident in your ability to do that, so you covered your mouth with one of your own hands, momentarily losing your balance as your legs started to give in and fail at keeping you up, but he had you. He moved his other arm around your waist to your belly, holding you flush against him, holding you close, safe, in his grip, supporting you as your legs threatened to give way, ensuring you remained upright against him.

He resorted to mostly grinding his hips into you, the position not really allowing much room to move freely, but still every sensation was heightened, every touch electric, as you lost yourselves in the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His fingers worked tirelessly on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting throughout your body with each touch. You bit down on your hand to stifle your cries, your senses overwhelmed with each grind of his hips. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, clenching around him repeatedly as your second orgasm was threatening to wash over you.

“Don’t do that- I- fuck-“ his hips faltered, and you were holding onto him dangerously tight, he couldn’t escape your grip.

With a couple last deep thrusts, you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, twitching against your tightening walls as his release spilled out, filling you up and coating his length as he kept grinding even deeper, the feeling sending you over the edge as you too soon came, for the second time.

The way you squeezed his cock made him bite your shoulder, his teeth grinding into the fabric covering you in an attempt to quiet down his cries from the overstimulation.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, he collapsed against you, breathless and spent. His heart was about to pound straight out of his chest. This was too much, too intimate.

He stayed like that for a minute, his cock softening inside of you as the seconds passed, before pulling out, his cum immediately starting to run out of you.

He quickly tucked himself back into his boxers and grabbed some tissues to clean you up.

“I’m sorry.” he said, sincerity and shame felt in his voice, and your mind went to thinking he meant he was sorry for doing this, that he regretted it, but he reassured you, feeling you tense as his hands gently rubbed your thighs and pulled your underwear back on. “About not pulling out, I didn’t mean to, it was just- I-“

“It’s okay.” you told him, pulling your skirt back down over your ass and turning around to see him panicking. “I can take care of it, don’t worry.” you said, reserved. You didn’t know how you two stood, if he would want you to forget this ever happened.

“No, no, no, no, you- I’ll help you…get you…what you need…yeah.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you nuzzled into his chest, basking in the afterglow of your shared ecstasy. In the hazy aftermath, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the warmth of each other's embrace, the exchanged tender kisses, savouring the closeness, until you were reminded of your surroundings by the train stopping harshly in its tracks.

“Fuck, I need to get my stuff.” you huffed, annoyed at the moment having to come to an end.

“I’ll get them, you stay in here…calm down darling.” he spoke sweetly, fixing your top back to its original position and buttoning up his trousers before he emerged from the restroom, leaving you alone in your thoughts.

Fuck.

That was the only thing coming to mind when you turned back around to look at yourself in the mirror, your hair pointing awkwardly in all directions from where his hands got tangled in it.

At the same time, you couldn’t stop the smile that began forming on your lips.

a/n: this was all caused by the recents, if it wasn’t obvious enough, and i kinda fell back in love with the version Mr. Turner is made up in my head. i hope this makes sense, i had someone proofread alongside my own go at it but if there are any bits that sound wrong or typos let me know

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ coping with the accident (pt.2)

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 tw/cw: mentions of hospital equipment but happy ending!! ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — pt. 2 as requested! hope you enjoy @queenpiranhadon ♡ ( part one ) -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

Katsuki laid in the grass, the small wisps tickling his skin in the breeze. The sunlight’s warmth comforted him, reminiscent of a cherished childhood blanket. He doesn’t remember walking to the riverbank, or really…anything at all about the day. The last thing he could recall was being on patrol with Kirishima. It was cloudy that day, too - nothing like the current forecast.

‘Did I pass out?’ The thought echoes through the caverns of his mind.

Maybe he was dreaming the world around him, creating the ideal paradise for his soul. Regardless of how he got here, the peace it offered him was unmatched to anything he’s felt before. It was…strange.

‘Where the hell is everyone?’

Katsuki could hear faint whispers every now and again, sometimes the sounds of unknown technology droning and beeping at random. He felt a squeeze on his hand a little while ago, confused by the foreign sensation when he saw nothing there.

He rose slowly, careful with his movements as he scanned his surroundings. No one else was around - he was completely alone.

Suddenly, Katsuki was overwhelmed with the urge to lay in the river. He begins to make his way to the edge, wading into the water with his boots on. The river wasn’t deep by any means, just enough to come to his knees. The current flowed softly around him as he laid on the surface, floating blissfully in the cool stream.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him in the moment as Katsuki’s eyes fluttered closed.

‘So…tired,’ he thought, unable to fight the drowsiness building inside him. His vision was fading to black until a splash nearby startled him out of his tranquil haze.

You appeared above him, observing curiously with your brows scrunched together and hair hanging in front of your face.

“What are you doing in the river, Kat?” you ask, tilting your head. He blinks a few times before finding the words to respond.

“I…don’t know.”

A zealous laugh erupts from your throat. Katsuki’s heart flurries at the sound of your voice, emotions welling from deep within himself. You shuffle around his body and extend your hand for him to take.

"Come on, Katsuki. Let's go home."

He takes your hand like it's the most fragile thing in the world.

The landscape around the two of you begins to dissipate as he rises from the river. Everything is swirling into puffs of smoke - including you. He tries to say 'don't go!' but the words halt on his lips, unable to vocalize his feelings.

And then...it happens.

Without warning, Katuski's eyes shoot open - a raspy breath escaping his lungs. He shakes his head to fix his sight and pixelate the world into focus. The fluorescent lighting of the hospital hallway reflects off the tiles and creates a dim hue in the room.

He has a million questions, his brain playing catch up with reality while he analyzes the setting around him. That's when his gaze falls downward and sees...you. You're fast asleep, hunched over in the uncomfortable plastic chair with your head on the hospital bed - hand tangled with his.

Katsuki sighs to himself, letting his lips curl into the softest smile he could muster. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, causing you to wake from your slumber. He can see the glistening of tears forming in your eyes through the darkness. Your mouth moves, but nothing comes out - you're too overwhelmed with emotion. So, he decides to fill the silence for you.

"I'm home."

he deserved a happy ending ♡

[transbunnyboi]

Okokokokok I have to detail this because its still fresh in my brain and I don't wanna forget it so !!!! ALSO This is gonna be a long post sooo!!! So what happened was, we were talking about automatic pianos and he said had one and that he could show it to me because he had it in his apartment. So we go and THIS DUDE ACTUALLY HAS ONE I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A PLOY TO GET ME TO HIS PLACE BUT NO. So he shows it to me and we talk about that and other stuff for a while and he asks if I wanna stay over for a bit and watch something with him so I agree and we get on the couch and I'm a feral idiot and I asked "Oh so is this when you pretend to yawn so you can pull me in for a kiss?" and we. Ended up making out on his couch without even turning the TV on >//////<

He just tastes soooo so so so good aaaaa I'm blushing just thinking about him!!!! You guys already know how I am and how feral I've been recently so I actually was very uhmmmmm rough with him kinda slightly a little bit (I pushed him down and got on top of him while kissing him and he bit my lip and it bled anddhfgsgdfjhgf >/////< !!!!!) and he kept calling me a pretty boy and oughhhhhhh (btw he really likes the colour brown, everything in there was like being at a really old dude's place. OKAY. I will say this in the middle of describing sex. His place is kinda exactly how someone would expect a professor's house to be. Like. It's like looking up dark acidemia on Pinterest and selecting the first image to be your entire house 😭 he also has old Halloween decorations still up 😭 this dude) ANYWAYS So I, a WHORE, started begging him to fuck me and I ended up with my pants and underwear at my ankles and him on his knees without his shirt and he… wasn't very good at oral but that's alright because his tongue felt really really good inside of me and he kept saying I tasted good sdfhgjsdgjfhd, and when his jaw got tired he leaned his head against my thigh and started stretching my boycunt with his fingers and then after a bit of that he went back to sucking my tdick. And okay. Okay. This is the part I. omfg.

He pulled back again and looked up at me and there was blood all over his lips and I guess it turns out that he ?? accidentally cut me or scraped against me too hard or something with his nails (his fingers are so big) or something but I didn't feel it at all and so I got kinda embarrassed and I started apologising and this bitch goes "It's okay, I like the taste of blood." AND WENT BACK IN AND OH MY GODDD Eventually he stands up and I'm practically frothing at the mouth because I can see how hard he is in his pants and I'm praying that he'll fuck me because my boycunt is literally stretched and my thighs are spread open for him but he ends up sitting next to me and pulling me onto his lap (having me face away), and this bastard moved my hair slightly and started biting me and. I haven't mentioned the fact that I get VERY limp with love bites, my entire body gets really really weak because my neck is extremely sensitive and dhsgdjfhgdhfg

And he starts asking me random fucking questions and I can't even respond because of the fact that I can fucking hear him biting and sucking on my neck and I'm WHIMPERING and squirming so fucking much and he fucking laughs slightly and makes fun of me for not being able to talk and fucckhdfgjdhgsjhdgf After me begging for so fucking fucking long he finally fucking buried his fingers back into my boycunt and hsdfghgfhjdsgfh gOd it felt so good and he kept palming my poor tdick and I swear to god it made up for him not being great at giving head I swear it felt so fucking good. His fingers felt so so so good inside my wet boycunt and he kept asking me questions about stupid shit and I couldn't pay attention at all and it felt so so fucking good !!!!!!!

two of the things that stuck out to me were "Does it feel good, baby? You're soaking my hand so well right now." And (this one made me whine and buck my hips sooo so much oguhh), "You always talk so much. What happened, honey?" AND OUGHHH FUCK. I feel the need to emphasise that he's. Southern. That he has a heavy southern accent, and a low voice. When I say that he fucking growled that petname in my ear I mean it, he fucking growled it and went back to biting my neck oughhh fucccck.

My cunt felt so fucking good and he ended up making out with me again before making me cum. He literally made me feel so fucking good and ough my god.

I asked if he wanted me to reciprocate but he said he didn't need it and we kissed for a really long time afterward and talked. I'm still at his place right now. I feel. Weird??? Idk just pray that he has like. idk a really weird hobby or is an actual murderer or something because I???? Idk aaaaaaaaaaaaa

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers With An ADHD S/O✦

This could also be taken as slashers with a s/o that has unmedicated ADHD, it's essentially just them responding to your info dumping or random-ass questions. This is definitely not me just wanting to project random facts onto people-

✧GN!Reader, mention of skinwalkers(in case you're worried bout the energy that might bring), brief mention of cannibalism✧ ✧Bo; He/Him, Vincent; He/They, Lester; He/Him, Thomas; He/Him, Bubba; He/She/They, Stu; He/Him, Billy Lo; He/Him, Brahms; He/Him✧

❀Bo Sinclair❀

He's gonna act so sick of it but he often gets wrapped up in what you're doing. I've always been on the fence if he's neurotypical, or if he has unmedicated ADHD.

If you ask a random ass question that he can't immediately answer, he'll try to brush you off, but then he'll get too curious. Leading to hours of you two coming up with theories or researching some obscure topic. Sometimes it leads to debates that might get heated, but they never turn into actual fights.

Although sometimes he's too tired to deal with your random shit. Like, if you two are in bed, and you roll over with a super obscure topic? He'll give you some tired grunts as responses, but eventually, he'll cover your mouth and tuck you under his chin. "Doll, I'ma need you to shut ya mouth." He loves you but he needs his beauty sleep.

You were washing dishes as Bo sat in the living room, sipping a beer and losing his focus on a TV show. Things were quiet and peaceful. He'd been a bit on edge today, but that was chalked up to his lingering headache. Aside from that? Nothing was wrong, and it allowed everyone in Ambrose to relax...assuming they weren't encased in wax. But your brain was not relaxed. Not with the question that had been bouncing around all day. Finally, it was too much to bare on your own, so after drying your hands you poked your head around the door frame to the kitchen. Staring at Bo on the couch. He sensed it, setting his beer on his knee as he looked over, expecting your words.

"Bo, how come you never see an ad for microwaves?"

His brow furrowed before his eyes rolled. "Really? Darlin' what kind of stupid ass question is th-..." He trailed off as he properly processed the question. You blinked, staring, waiting as you watched it settle over him. The same confusion. He shook his head. "Prolly 'cause everyone knows ya need one." He said, trying to brush it off, but that answer was not satisfying. "But then why are there ads for other appliances? Or toilet paper? Everyone knows you need that stuff." You replied. Bo bit his lower lip as he looked up, thinking again. "...well shit, I don't fuckin' know." He admitted. You jumped in the air and made dramatic hand motions. "SEE?! Right?! It's been bothering me all day!!" You exclaimed. Bo rubbed his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer, or perhaps bring forth the memory of a microwave commercial.

You hopped over the back of the couch and settled next to him. "Bo, it's been eating away at me. I can't come up with anything." You whispered. "I can't either...shit! Why is that a thing?!" Bo demanded, you laughed and put your face in your hands. "Nah nah, we're gonna think of something. This shit's gonna eat at me." He said, setting his beer on the coffee table. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping without an answer.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Vincent can't really respond to your random questions or factoids, his vocal cords are damaged and he only speaks when necessary. However, he'll listen! Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, they'll be too focused to hear what you're saying, but they'll pause and sign for you to repeat your last sentence. He wants to indulge you.

You'll remind him of Lester when they were all younger. For this reason, they won't get annoyed. They're a seasoned veteran of the random ramblings of an individual with ADHD. That, and it makes him feel at peace hearing you in the background of whatever he's doing. Reminds him of a more peaceful time.

Vincent's an insomniac. He can stay awake to hear your latest info dump, but, if he's exhausted enough? He's gonna pass out. It doesn't matter how loud you're ranting either. He finds your voice soothing and it's hard to stay awake when they're so tired, and you feel so safe. But don't worry, if you want, they'll ask you to start talking about the topic again in the morning. After their coffee, of course.

There was a quiet scraping sound mingling with the bubbling of wax in a large vat in the basement. Vincent's hands worked diligently as he formed the shape of a man's arm, carefully sculpting the subtle curve of a bicep. They were in their zone, completely focused. Taking even, deep breaths as they went to grab a more precise tool.

"VINCENT!"

And the silence was shattered, making the man fumble with the tool, doing a short juggling act until he caught it. He looked over at you bouncing into his workspace, grinning. "Oh! Sorry, did I mess you up?" You asked as you noticed he was working. Vincent let out a sigh and shook their head, allowing you to relax, energy coming back full force. He set his tool down and signed to you. "What's wrong?" He asked, making you shake your head. "Oh nothing, but I just learned something super cool!" You walked closer and pulled up a chair, setting yourself on top of it.

"Do you anything about Egyptian mythology?" You asked with an excited grin. Vincent paused and tapped his fingers a few times on his leg before shaking his head. "Great! Okay, so there's this god, Anubis, also called Anpu or Inpu. He's a deity relating to death and the passing of the people of Egypt. He's got a jackal head most of the time, which is basically a canine. One of the things he's known for is this ceremony where he weighs a heart against a feather to see if it's pure, and if the heart is heavier than the feather, it's impure. So! He'll feed it to this other deity named Ammit. Which would basically mean your soul can't move on to the underworld." You paused to take a deep breath. Vincent had settled in his own seat at this point, listening intently. He'd never been much for mythology aside from his Greek phase in high school. But you were so passionate and admittedly? The factoids were interesting.

They'd gladly listen for hours on end, it made you so happy, how could he not indulge?

❀Lester Sinclair❀

This man is the king of random factoids, are you kidding me? Do you think he wouldn't be as passionate about your random topics? Fool that you are! He has just as many! It's definitely a bonding thing for the two of you.

The things he brings up most are bug & plant related, but he loves learning from you. He's got several learning disabilities so learning from a book is a bit difficult. This is partially why he loves learning from you. Be careful to have your facts straight though.

You could wake him up at two am and get him enraptured in a conversation with ease. He won't be mad, just a bit groggy at first. He utterly adores the fact you're so willing to share the things you're passionate about, no matter how random they are. And Lester is elated that you return the favor.

Wood shavings fell to the ground as Lester whistled a tune, carving a new knife handle out of some old cherry oak he'd found. He'd hoped to give this one to Bo, in order to replace the switchblade the man had that was starting to give up on him. It was peaceful on his cabin porch. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, trees only swaying in a slight breeze. He stopped his whistling tune when he heard the screen door creak open and saw you walk out. He smiled as you sat beside him. "Afternoon' sugar." He greeted.

"Lester, I need you to confirm something for me." You said with an intense look. The man rose an eyebrow and looked you over. "Alright...what is it?" He asked. He watched you inhale deeply and finally open your mouth with the question. "Is it true that there are creatures in the ocean that look like tiny bunnies but they're slugs?" Lester blinked before he laughed a bit, a grin stretching across his face. "Yeah, there are! They're called sea bunnies! They're real small critters, buncha slugs in the ocean look real cool. There's one that looks like 's made of leaves too. It eats like a plant too! That photosin-photo, whatever's called." He mumbled. You gasped loudly.

"There are sea slugs that can photosynthesize?! Oh my god!" You cheered. Lester snickered and nodded vigorously. "Baby, I thought they were fake! They're so small and cute, I just wanna squish'em." You explained, making a little squishing motion with your hand. Lester hummed in agreement. "There's this other one. Looks like a dragon, but ya can't pick'em up 'cause they're real poisonous." He said, feeling his heart swell as you let out a sad whine. "All the cool things are poisonous." You complained. You looked back at him with adoration and a smile made from sunshine. "Can you tell me more about random animal stuff?" Lester couldn't have been happier to hear you ask. "Well, don't mind if I do." He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling joy rush through his brain as he started his factoid rant.

❀Thomas Hewitt❀

Alright, he's neurodivergent, but he's never been the type to info dump or even deeply explore his interests. Mostly because he's never had the time or ability. However, seeing how deep you get into your stuff will probably inspire him to indulge himself more.

He doesn't know what a hyperfixation is but he'll relate if you tell him about it. Thomas' tend to be things like sewing and, fittingly enough, mechanics of things like chainsaws. He used to be into old cars when he was younger but Luda Mae would often tell him not to poke around, for fear he'd get hurt by something.

Thomas finds your ease around him cathartic. Sometimes, when you're rambling, he won't be fully listening. Not because he doesn't care but because he's too focused on the fact you're with him. Even when he's at his most exhausted, he'll always find time and energy to watch you be passionate. To share those things with him? It feels unreal sometimes.

Thomas huffed as he tossed a small bale of hale towards a pile in the back of the dilapidated barn. Sweat rolled down his skin, which he wiped with the fabric of his shirt. He tilted his neck and only slightly winced when it cracked loudly. "Tommy!" And there it went again, feeling his heart melt and his stress fade away. Usually when his name was called it meant someone needed something, that he was about to be insulted, that he was doing something wrong. But not with you. No, you always said his name in the sweetest tone. He turned to face you, watching you run up to the barn with a smile. You remembered to step over the board at the entrance since it had unhidden nails.

"Tommy! Okay, baby, I know you're working but can I tell you about something really cool?" He exhaled and his gaze softened. With a deep grunt and a nod, he moved a hay bale off to the side and motioned to it. You cooed and walked up, sitting down on the bale with a grin. "You're a sweetheart." You praised, making him blush. "Okay, so, you know how Native Americans have super rich history? And like, they even have things akin to cryptids and they have their own folklore?" Thomas nodded as he went back to work, showing he was still listening.

"Alright, well, don't take my word for everything here because I may be wrong on some of it. But! There are these things called skinwalkers, in English anyway. They're a thing most notably spoken about from Indigenous tribes around the southwest, like here and Oklahoma and stuff. Typically they're described as shapeshifting beings with deformed, almost, humanoid bodies. The origins kind of vary based on where you get it from, but some traditions say that they used to be powerful medicine men who succumbed to evil. Some other origins think that they're people who committed a deep sin." Your hands moved with your words and you occasionally paused as to not stutter over the words. Though it was a taboo topic to speak about and not something Thomas would've ever sought out, he listened. Pausing his work to stare at you lovingly as you rambled about a creature that was probably pretty nightmare-inducing. He couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. Only succumb to the adoration in his chest.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Bubba's neurodivergent as well, they have their hyperfixations, but sadly can't share them much. One, because her family often expressed annoyance so she's no longer willing to show them. Two, she can't really talk. He's only able to babble things that sometimes sound kind of like words.

But oh, oh he ADORES when you share your interests or ask him weird questions. It brings him so much joy. And they feel so seen when you acknowledge they want to share something with you as well. You become Bubba's hyperfixation safe space and he returns the effort tenfold. (Her fixations are jewelry & fashion magazines)

She'll never not listen to you. Of course, if he's working, he'll need to be focused on that. But you're more than welcome to sit nearby and keep talking. They take note of everything you say, and if it's something he can find and give to you? They'll search for something you'll like so hard every chance they get.

Bubba patted his hands on his lap as you sewed a hole in his apron. Though Bubba knew how to sew, and enjoyed it, sometimes their big hands made it difficult. That and their random muscle spasms. But, you were always willing to help, something that made his love for you triple almost every day. You smiled as she leaned in to watch you work more closely. "You know, Bubs. Maybe I should make you a dress. I have a few designs I think you'd look great in." You said. Bubba's brown eyes widened and she squealed, watching you finish the stitch, placing the needle down. As soon as he was sure you wouldn't get pricked, he squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh.

You set his apron in his lap and stood up, grabbing a busted-up sketchbook that they'd grabbed off a meal once. You sat back beside her and flipped open to a page. Bubba flapped her hands excitedly as she caught sight of a chubby figure in the concept of a flowy dress. "See, I tried to consider what would be best with your work. I figured sleeves would get in the way so I kept them either short or just as straps, adjustable of course." You explained as you pointed to the sketches. "I mostly took inspiration from those magazines you have. Most of those dresses have shirt tops and blouson cuts, but I couldn't help myself by when I imagined you in a sundress." Your smile grew wider as Bubba wiggled in place, letting out happy squeals and excited squeaks.

You began to ramble about different waist cuts and fabric patterns, colors that you felt would compliment Bubba's skin tone. Eventually ending up in his lap as he squeezed you, rocking back and forth. Feeling adored and cared for. No one else had ever put in this effort to indulge her and she felt ready to cry from joy. You hummed and turned a page. "You know, I think a babydoll cut nightgown would also be real cute on you.~" You purred, going to slowly turn the page again. Bubba caught sight of a slightly revealing babydoll cut "nightgown", with detailed lace, clearly meant to be a bit see-through. They squeaked and covered their face. You laughed fondly and reached to place kisses on the backs of their knuckles.

❀Stu Macher❀

Again, you think this dude doesn't have ADHD? There ain't no way in hell. This man is a poster child for unmedicated ADHD if I've ever seen one. His hyperfixations being horror movies and true crime, clearly. He loves to have someone to rant about these things with, but a lot of people aren't down with it. Imagine his joy when he found out you were. And even more so when you do the same back.

He's a bit hard to get into things that don't already interest him. But, he does his best to listen anyway, since you do that with him. However, if you have a similar interest to him? Stu is all over that shit. He finds you so sexy when you rant about the cinematography of your favorite movie or the psyche of a fictional killer.

If you know you have ADHD and tell him, you might actually be able to convince him to get tested. It won't change anything, but Stu being on meds would probably help him out in school...or it would just help him be more down to earth. That's wishful thinking though.

"Babe! Baby, babe babe babebabebabe!" Your voice cut over the movie Stu was watching, making him pause it. The image of Jason standing in a doorway to a cabin fizzled and glitched on the old TV. He laughed when you dove over the back of the couch, setting down the snacks and drinks you brought, quickly turning to face him. "I have theories and I need to spill them before I forget about them." You said. Stu grabbed a soda and cracked it open. "Well spill then baby! I'm all ears!" He grinned, taking a large gulp of Dr.Pepper. You got yourself comfortable and cleared your throat, starting off with a deep breath. "It's about the Ghostface killings recently." Now that caught his attention. "Yeah? What'cha got, babe?" Twisted excitement formed in his chest as he awaited your words.

"I don't think there's one killer, I think there's two." His brain sparked up and his heartbeat arose, leaning his arm on the back of the couch as he listened. "See cause, when Casey was in her house, she was called on the phone and the killer talked to her right? They probably were giving her things to make her think she could survive, if it were me I'd choose...like, a trivia thing. Get the answers right, ya live. But of course she didn't They killed her boyfriend on the porch while she was still on the phone, but then evidence showed someone was in the house to hunt her down. That doesn't make sense! There would be no feasible way only one person could utterly tear Steve's organs out and then get into the house without her noticing. She probably had both doors locked anyway! But, if someone else was already inside while a second killer Jack-The-Ripper-style killed Steve, it would make so much more sense!"

Stu ran his tongue along his lower lip, watching you get more animated and invested into your theory. Despite talking about a recent murder of peers, the terrifying concept that there were two people out there ready to commit horrific acts, you were smiling. Buzzing off excitement while talking about a murder. "And! The amount of strength and time it would've taken to tie her and pull her over a tree branch, not being seen? One person doing that is hard to believe, but two people? That's a piece of cake!" You declared, only to be cut off by a passionate kiss to the mouth. It silenced you for a moment, but it didn't do anything to your stuttering heartbeat. Stu pulled back with a smug grin. "You're so sexy when you dissect murder plans." He said. You snorted and let out a loud laugh. "I'm a fuckin' freak, huh?" Stu laughed. "And I love it, baby!"

❀Billy Loomis❀

He deals with Stu every day, he's used to it. Billy's not one who infodumps or hyperfixates, but he's not incredibly annoyed by it. Most of the time anyway.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he might ask you to be quiet, but it's not personal. It's not that he doesn't care or anything, he's just not in the mood for a lot of information being said to him at a fast rate. Most of the time though, he'll be perfectly fine with it.

He won't really get into it with you, but he'll support your interests and occasionally entertain your weird questions. Billy's particularly happy if your hyperfixation benefits him, however. Like with Stu, true crime & horror movies are things he's always willing to hear about.

Billy paused the movie and looked over. "You've been chewing on your lip this entire time, just spit it out." He said bluntly, though he had a calm smile on his face. Both of you were sat in your bedroom on your bed, watching a copy of Halloween H20 that you'd rented. Billy didn't really like movie talkers so you'd tried your best to hold it all in until the end, even if you had a million things to say. But he knew better and he was in a good mood. As long as you weren't talking over the movie, he wouldn't have a problem. He bit back an amused snicker as you let out a relieved breath and got ready to rant.

"I was just thinking if there was maybe a reason Michael can survive so much. Cause like, he is human. He needs to eat, we hear him breathe, even if he doesn't die he does get wounded by people attacking him. So it's not that he's a demon, even if Loomis calls him pure evil, so maybe there's a medical reason he can withstand all that!" You began. Billy set the remote down and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, crossing his arms and nodding, urging you to continue. "Okay, so, hear me out. What if he just has a surplus of stem cells? Like, they're out of control." You said, starting to talk with your hands. "Stem cells? Remind me what those are again."

You huffed and muttered something fondly about how he failed biology. He snorted at the comment. "Stem cells come from your bone marrow and they're what helps you heal from stuff. Like, if a section of your liver is removed? Stem cells will make the organ grow back to the perfect size for your body. When we get older, they tend to slow down, which is why it takes longer to heal from stuff. But theoretically, if Michael just has a fuck ton, he could come back from almost anything. As long as he has bone marrow, he'd keep producing stem cells, and he'd keep healing. At that rate, even old age couldn't kill him. Old age doesn't kill you, it's just your body's functions shutting down because of old dying cells." Billy hummed and rose his eyebrows, considering your theory for a moment. He then nodded with a smile. "That would actually make a lot of sense. A lot better than the cult idea." You beamed. "Thank you! Also yeah, that movie was fuckin' awful." He laughed and opened his arm, allowing you to lay against him. "You gonna let it play now?" He asked, to which you nodded. He patted your arm and grabbed the remote, allowing the movie to play again.

❀Brahms Heelshire❀

Aight, he's autistic, he doesn't have ADHD. He needs strict structure, he has no idea how you just wing everything. You're all over the place! It's frustrating! ...sometimes, other times it's fun to watch and listen to you. Brahms hasn't ever really had friends, not ones that seem so excited to talk to him anyway. It's a nice change, actually.

He'll start to be more comfortable with sharing his own thoughts on things he's really into. Brahms has never been able to speak for an hour on a chapter in a book before, and he feels really at ease when you listen to him. He's a bit hypocritical and occasionally tunes you out when you're ranting, but he'll usually try to listen.

Brahms is amazed at how many topics you can seemingly flow into, even when starting on something completely unrelated. He's endlessly entertained by you, so much so, that it'll occasionally make up for you accidentally letting time get away from you and going off schedule. Occasionally.

Brahms cleaned his brush as you spoke, running it over a napkin to dry it off and ensure it wasn't holding any more of the green paint. You'd been rambling for an hour now, more so to yourself than to him. The noise was a nice change from the deafening silence that he'd been used too in the walls. Brahms lifted his mask slightly to take a bit of the sandwich you'd made him, allowing himself to tune back into your rant. "Actually, some people have said that there's a stage of decomposition where the stench is almost sickeningly sweet. I've never smelt it like that though, the stench of death is pretty recognizable as not sweet." Brahms stopped mid-chew and stared at you. Where in the hell had you gotten this from? He could've sworn you started on food first.

"I wonder if cannibals found that smell appealing, actually. Maybe they considered it the "still safe to eat" time for when a body is already dead. I imagine they'd want it fresh though." You muttered whilst putting away a glass. "Actually! Interesting fact, some cannibals have described human meat as being akin to pork, just with a strong & bitter aftertaste. And the more muscular someone is, the chewier they are. Also I think I read once that tattoo ink has a terrible taste, which would make sense I suppose. In history, human was sometimes described as long pig or hairless goat!" Brahms cleared his throat and snapped you out of your train of thought. You made eye contact with him through his porcelain mask, seeing his look of confusion and slight concern. You chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't know why I know these things, but I promise it's not from personal experience." You reassured.

Brahms sighed and shook his head. You untensed a bit when he let out a little chuckle, one that was deep and genuine, not covered by his "child" voice. "You have got to be the most interesting nanny I've ever had." He said, accent thick as he spoke. Your face heated up and you let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Probably the most out there for sure. I'll take that as a compliment and uh, stop talking about cannibalism now." Brahms nodded and took another bite of his sandwich, pushing the chair out next to him with his leg. You took it with a smile. "How about you talk instead, hm?" You offered. Brahms cleared his throat again and nodded, he had plenty of things to discuss. Perhaps the eras of painting styles would be a good choice.

(bet you thought the cannibalism was gonna be in Thomas or Bubba's huh? YOU THOUGHT WRONG)

[more-mara]

Carcar - time travel (specifically gen z oscar accidentally time travelling and meeting carlos) 🥰

I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind but I really enjoyed writing this!

Oscar didn’t really mean it when he said he wanted to time travel, it was just a stupid answer to a stupid question during a stupid game of would you rather.

So imagine Oscar’s surprise when he woke up the next morning with a warm body curled around his own, stubble rubbing against his neck when Oscar tried to move out of the hold.

An arm was wrapped firmly around his body, a hand splayed possessively over his stomach which Oscar tried his damnest to ignore. What was strange about this entire predicament, was that Oscar was sure he didn’t fall asleep in someone else’s arms.

As he shifted, he felt the person behind him moving too, their body pushing against him even more as warm lips connected with his neck.

“Good morning, mi vida,” They said and Oscar swore his heart stopped beating when he heard their voice- he knew that voice. Oh god, what had he done last night?

Oscar didn’t remember drinking that much but maybe Lando had secretly been pouring him doubles or something but there was no way he would end up in bed with this person sober. He was even concerned that his drunk self had let this happen.

“Carlos?” Oscar gasped, turning around to meet Carlos wide brown eyes that looked tired with sleep. In the dim light, Oscar barely registered the older appearance of his fellow driver.

“You look like shit,” Oscar commented, taking in Carlos’ features that looked a little more mature than usual- the lines on his face were also a little harsher than what Oscar remembered- not that he had been paying any mind to Carlos’ face.

Carlos chuckled lightly, his hand reaching up to cup Oscar’s cheeks before he paused his movements suddenly.

“Did you…shave? After I went to sleep?” Carlos asked, clearly confused. Oscar matched his frown as he shook his head.

“What? No, that shouldn’t even be your main concern right now, why the hell are we in bed together?” Oscar asked, sitting up quickly and reaching over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Oscar didn’t even recognise the room his was in- perhaps it was Carlos’ appartment.

Oscar was even more confused now as he peered down at Carlos who definitely seemed to have a few scattered grey hairs. Alarm bells were suddenly going off in Oscar’s mind as he watched Carlos’ face contort into genuine concern.

“Cariño, you look-“ He began but he was unable to finish his sentence as he followed Oscar’s horrified gaze to look over at the calendar on the wall.

“C-Carlos, what year is it?” Oscar asked as he rubbed his eyes to reread the calendar.

September 2041

“Are you feeling okay, baby? Do I need to call a doctor?” Carlos asked, reaching over to take Oscar’s face in his hands. Oscar almost felt like he was no longer in his body as he stared into Carlos eyes.

“Carlos please, what year is it?” Oscar pleaded, feeling so panicked that he didn’t even bother to think too hard on the random nicknames Carlos was calling him.

“It is 2041…do you not remember?” Carlos asked and Oscar practically shot out of the bed, beginning to pace the room despite only being clad in a pair of boxers.

“Cariño?”

“Okay, okay…okay, this is fine, I’m fine,” Oscar panted, his brain working at a million miles an hour to try and figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this.

Suddenly, hands were on his waist, steadying him to a halt. Oscar’s eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat at the sudden contact and close proximity.

“Oscar, what is happening?” Carlos asked and as Oscar took a deep breath, he could tell that Carlos somehow already had an idea of what was going on- if Oscars significantly younger appearance was anything to go by.

“I- I think I time travelled, I’m from 2024, I don’t know how I got here I-“

Oscar took a steadying breath, Carlos’ hands soothing on his waist.

“-I’m 23, if that helps, I don’t know what’s happening,” He said, watching as Carlos’ confused expression turned to something of understanding- if not a little sympathetic.

“As sexy as it is having the younger version of my husband here right now, I would really love to have my Oscar back. I will help you get back to your time,”

Husband???

Oscar did not want to think about the fact that some time in the future, he would be married to Carlos, and he definitely didn’t want to dwell on how that thought alone made him feel something deep in the pit of his stomach.

“Your Oscar?”

“Yes cariño, my Oscar,”

Oscar had so many questions but he wasn’t even sure he wanted the answers to them. Nor did he want Carlos to know how his heart fluttered at the notion of being his.

Not to mention, older Carlos was hot.

[poisonedprose]

hii, saw you wanted asks for simon <3 could you maybe write something where the reader is a civilian and misses simon but cannot contact him. she has a horrible day everything goes wrong. (to the point where she doesn’t even notice his car in the driveway when she gets home). she’s overwhelmed, and it’s filled with fluff (and smut if you want!!)

₊˚✧ i miss you, i’m sorry — in which simon returns after being away for so long

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

warnings: 2k words, smut, fluff, a lil angsty curse words, porn with plot, unprotected sex, p in v, degrading, pet names (lovie), hand job, borderline obsessed!reader, borderline toxic!ghost

masterlists

Watching Simon come and go became a routine for you. There was never an explanation, maybe he thought you didn't deserve one, or maybe there wasn’t time. He would leave for days, weeks, months at a time, always prefacing it with "I'll be back soon." The first few times you tried to call him, aching to hear his voice after long days but you were always met with the robotic woman telling you the call could not be completed. 

You learned quickly there was no way to contact him during these mysterious vanishings. You theorized where Simon went late at night. Thinking he was a secret spy, or maybe he had a secret family. You hoped it wasn't the latter. As you lay on your back, blankets askew on your rather uncomfortable mattress, thoughts of Simon flood your brain, you wondered if Simon was doing the same.  

You wondered if for each thought of him, he had a thought for you. When you thought of his hands on your waist did he think of your lips on his neck? As much as your conclusion pained you to think about, you can’t help but dream of him. Of his husky voice whispering teases and playful remarks into your ear. You had fallen hard, and you weren’t getting up anytime soon.

You knew this was a one-way ticket to disaster. He could never be what you need and deep down you both knew that. It didn’t stop you though, you didn’t think anything could stop you. You didn’t even know if he returned the intoxicating feelings you had for him. To him, you could just be the other woman, and part of you didn’t mind.

There was something about him that was so addicting. Was it his smile? Or his cologne? Or maybe it was his eyes that you loved looking into. You wondered if you had any features that he could obsess over. It’s strange, to have such strong feelings for someone you barely know. 

Your shoulders hung low, your feet dragged on the ground, and your eyes were strained. You were tired, your nights that were supposed to be filled with sleep were only filled with fantasies. You turned your key in the door, turning it the wrong way at first, even though you could’ve sworn it was the right way. It took everything in you not to become upset. It amazed you how much power Simon had over your life when he wasn’t even around.

After taking a deep breath, you finally were able to unlock the door. You stepped inside, throwing your stuff onto a random side table that you got from a garage sale 3 years ago that you should really organize. You kick your shoes off, not bothering to place them into their spot, just leaving them in front of the door. You don’t even notice the second pair of shoes that are too big to be yours.

You walk further into the house, trying to make it to any surface to lie on, but instead of finding a couch or a bed, you find Simon standing with a cup of coffee in his hand. You're almost sure you’re hallucinating. “Miss me?” You don’t know what to do, should you hug him? Yell at him for drinking your coffee? Not even acknowledge him at all and just go to bed? 

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, afraid that if you were hallucinating, you didn’t want the neighbors to hear you talking to yourself. “Hey,” He matched your volume, then took another sip from the mug. Still, you didn’t move, you were sure he was real now but now the question was, how should you greet him? He took the final sip of coffee and then placed the mug on the coffee table. 

“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” He doesn’t look at you as he asks, and it almost sounds like he’s teasing you. He probably is, but you didn’t care. You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He chucked softly before returning the hug, only draping one arm around, being the other one up to pat your head. 

You didn’t move from this position, though neither of you really mind it. The sun was starting to set but still, neither of you really mind it. You didn’t know what to say to him. You wanted to ask where he was, where he went for so long. But you knew you would only be answered with, “You know I can’t tell you.”

You did know, but you were still curious. “Where were you?” You whispered. “You know I can’t-” “I know.” You cut him off, sighing softly. He pats your head again, trying to apologize for not being able to tell you. Maybe one day he could, but for now you just basked in the moment of feeling his arms around you once again.

“You tired?” Was it that obvious? “A little.” He nodded even though you weren’t looking at him. “Are you going to fall asleep standin’ up?” He laughs, his chest rumbling, making you feel safe in his arms. “Maybe.” He shook his head, moving both of his hands to your butt before picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso, moving your head off his chest and finally looking him in the eyes. 

You didn’t know if his feelings for you were gone after being away, or if they were ever there. He doesn’t say anything as you examine his face. ‘It’s definitely his eyes.’ You think, answering your own question from nights ago. You don’t think as you push your lips against his. You missed him far too much to not kiss him. 

To your satisfaction, he kisses back, almost more eagerly than you. You smile, happiness warming your body, or maybe that was from Simon’s body being pressed so closely to yours. You pulled away from the kiss, going back to examine his face, mostly his eyes. “I missed you.” You whispered, biting your lip after the practically deafening sentence.

“I bet you did.” Again he matches your volume, and too prideful to admit he missed you too, but you know. You can see it in his eyes, and feel it in his words. You press your lips to his again, more eagerly, more passionately. 

He returns the kiss once again, pushing your body closer to his. One of his hands slide from your ass, up your back, and land on the back of your neck. He squeezes it gently and suddenly you’re aware of how much you missed his subtle touches. 

He walks forward, sitting on the couch and you’re quick to fix your position to straddle him. His hands move to your waist, rubbing small circles as you disconnect from the kiss and begin leaving small kisses on his neck. Your tinted lip balm staining his skin ever so slightly. 

He sighs contently, loving the feeling of your soft lips on his neck. His hands slide under your shirt, his warm hands on your bare back. Maybe you didn’t know where or why he disappeared and left you high and dry for long periods of time, but it didn’t matter. He always made up for it by treating your body heavenly.

Without moving your lips away from his neck you lead a blind hand to his pants, fiddling with the zipper trying to undo them. “Someone’s eager.” Simon chuckles. He moves his hand towards his zipper, helping you pull it down when he notices you struggling, confirming he wants it just as badly as you do.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you when you were gone.” You admit shamelessly, as he unbuttons his pants. You pull his boxers away from his skin, pulling out his semi-hard cock. You jerked him slowly as you left marks on his neck. He was enjoying how eager you were. It was sensual, you missed him so much, how could you not be?

"Is that so?" He whispered in your ear. His voice was raspy, it always was when he returned, raspier than usual at least. He was teasing you, finding pleasure and amusement in your admission. Had his lack of presence really had that much of an impact on you? The tiredness from your long day was easily being replaced with need. How long had it been this time? 3 months? 4 months? You lost count.

"Don't start that." Your lips tickle his neck with each word. You couldn't be bothered with his games, not this time. Not when you spent months awaiting his arrival. He was always different after each coming and going. It was always a slight change, but you never failed to notice it, no matter how hard you tried. 

"Don't start what?" He smiled at you with a cocky grin displayed on his face. Your eyes gloss over his face, he had a new scar on his lip. You brushed your thumb over it. "How do you always get so many of these?" It was rhetorical. You knew he wouldn't tell you. He was covered in scars, each one having a story to be told, but Simon never did. He took your hand in his, lowering it from his face. "Don't start what, huh?" He was deflecting, per usual.

"Your games." He lets go of your hand, returning it to its place under your shirt. Your free hand was still jerking him, slowly but pleasurably. "I'm not playing games." He was. He always was. "I'm just teasin' ya, lovie. No games, just fun." Games, fun, really they were both the same.

He laughs lowly, lowering his head to kiss your shirt-covered shoulder. One of his hands slides down your body, stopping when he reaches the end of your shorts. He moves your panties to the side, two of his fingers sliding through your folds. 

“So wet f’r me, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Did you miss me like this the whole time?” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, despite him being right. “Maybe.” You answered. “Maybe?” He questioned. “If you’re allowed to keep secrets so am I.” He laughs again, kissing your shoulder once more. “Fair enough.”

He takes your hand off his cock that’s painfully hard by now. He needs you too badly to enjoy the foreplay any longer. He tugs your shorts down roughly, too eager to pull off your underwear. He shoves your panties to the side before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in.

You pushed your body against his, biting your lip to quiet your moans. “Missed this tight pussy.” He groans. His hands stray to your ass cheeks, squeezing each of them with his firm hands. 

It’s pathetic how eager both of you are. Both pent up, frustrated, perhaps for different reasons. The way your bodies are pressed together is a sin. Barely any clothes have been taken off, so why do you feel so dirty? 

Maybe it was because of how deep his cock was buried in you. Or how hard your fingernails were pressing into his biceps. It could be both, it’s definitely both. If passion is a sin then so be it. He was always so good to you. Fucking you until you were crying, asking if you could give him just one more. 

You moaned his name, with each thrust. Giving up on trying to be quiet. He preferred when you were loud anyway. “Yeah? Moanin’ my name like a slut?” His words were harsh but his soft kisses on your temple were all the reassurance you needed. 

“Your slut.” The words slide off your tongue before you have a chance to think about them. His hips stutter when he hears what you said, holding back a throaty moan. “My slut, eh? At least you know it.” He rasps out, a smile mixed with cockiness and something you can’t decipher strung on his face. “My fuckin’ slut.” 

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