#or maybe i do. just not conventionally. maybe that's the catch.

[chqnified]

Coming to the realisation that "regular everyday people" don't question if they even have empathy and what that means.

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. ��I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

[msschemmenti]

My Way

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Wc: 1335

a/n: crack drabble to get back into writing in general that was inspired by a reel or tiktok storytime i saw

Prompt: Emily and the Crew head to their usual bar to unwind after solving yet another case. Emily is approached by a woman she’s never seen before but she can’t help but to admire her confidence.

“Anyone up for drinks? I think I could use a couple of rounds.” Derek called eyeing everyone as they gathered their things from their desks. They’d all just returned from a rather long case in Florida, which was always a reason to get drunk. Garcia and JJ were the first to agree, followed shortly by Rossi, and after a little peer pressure, even Reid agreed. All eyes landed on Emily expectantly, she raked her brain for an excuse but knew she’d be piling into the bar with the rest of the team. “Oh alright, I’m in.” 

With a triumphant fist pump, Derek led the way to the elevator and to the team’s usual bar. They piled into a booth toward the back of the room and commenced their usual routine of drinking, games, and unwinding. JJ had made her way over to the darts board and seemed to be schooling some men. Garcia and Reid were locked into what looked like an extremely serious conversation at one end of the booth. Rossi and Morgan were both eyeing the bar for what could only be considered their next conquest. And then there was Emily, watching them all nursing her drink in what could only be described as brooding. 

Suddenly Emily felt eyes on her. She gazed around the room hoping to catch whoever’s eye she caught. It wasn’t abnormal for her to meet someone on these team nights out. It wasn’t as frequent as Derek or Rossi but she got her fair share of phone numbers. She was just less likely to act on those approaches. The dating scene in DC was already such a difficult thing to navigate, and being on this team was not very helpful either. She was still surveying the room when she felt Derek nudge her shoulder gently. 

“Honey at one o’clock been giving you the eyes for a while now.” He grinned nodding in that direction. Emily discreetly followed his motion with her eyes and instantly met warm eyes. And they were in fact on her. She watched as the woman twirled a loc of her between her fingers and eyed her over the rim of some fruity drink. The woman smiled sweetly and floated a wink over to their table. Emily smiled back and nodded her head in greeting. Before she could even think about her next move Derek let out a whistle of appreciation. “Oh, I think you might’ve hit the jackpot tonight. I was hoping she was eyeing me but looks like she’s got different tastes.” 

“It’s not my fault you and Rossi are striking out tonight. Maybe it’s a sign it’s time to retire.” Emily grinned in jest causing both men to scoff in offense. 

“It’s a shame too, you probably won’t even take her up on any offer,” Rossi grumbled rolling his eyes. 

“Hey! You don’t know what I might do.” Emily protested earnestly. She moved her eyes back to the woman and watched as she talked with her friends. The bar they went to was a pretty popular spot for post-work drinks and the woman seemed to have come from some office job. She and her friends were all standing and sitting around a high-top table, some with tumblers of dark liquor and others with bright drinks like the woman. The women were all conventionally attractive, yes, but she had to be honest in the fact that she was very attracted to the woman eyeing her. 

“Princess, when was the last time you indulged? I know you’ve had plenty of offers.” Derek asked. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Oh sounds like she’s practicing celibacy.” Derek chided. 

“I indulge plenty.” Emily protested. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Morgan goaded with a grin. “If your bed is so popular, what’s stopping you from welcoming another?” 

“Morgan, just because a woman smiles at me from across the bar doesn’t mean she wants anything from me. Especially an invitation to my bed. Unlike you, I’m not desperate for any action.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened in shock and he brought his hand to his chest, “Oh you wound me. You wound me.” Before Morgan could continue his poking, Rossi cleared his throat to get their attention. 

“Behave, children. We’ve got company.” Rossi smiled as his eyes roamed to the end of the table.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” The young woman called as she let the smirk settle on her lips. She stopped at the end of the booth and let her eyes settle on Emily. 

Derek was the first of the two younger agents to wake from their stunned silence. “I think we can be on our best behavior in the company of someone so beautiful, right Princess?”

Derek nudged Emily playfully but it really didn’t do much good considering she was absolutely locked in on the younger woman leaning against the booth. Her eyes slowly scanned her face in interest. Now that she’d come closer, Emily really couldn’t see any reason not to at least entertain the idea of spending an evening with this mystery woman. If she was lucky, she might even get more than just an evening.

“Princess, huh? Well, can I treat the Princess to a drink?” She smiled sweetly reaching a hand out toward Emily. As soon as the words left her mouth she could hear Morgan snickering next to her.

With a roll of her eyes, Emily took her hand and slid her empty glass to the center of the table. “I think I’d like that.” Allowing the younger woman to pull her toward the bar, Emily looked over her shoulder at Morgan and Rossi (and now Reid and Garcia) and stuck her tongue out tauntingly. They’d spent the entire night with no interest from anyone and she was getting a drink with a very attractive woman. All that talk with nothing to show of it.

Once at the bar, seemingly an equal distance from both of their parties, the woman turned to address Emily. “What’ll be?” 

Never having been one to submit, Emily grinned over the woman’s head and waved her hand toward the bartender. As the bartender made his way over to them Emily caged her arms around the younger woman and leaned over her shoulder, her body screaming dominate in every way she knew how.

“Let me have another beer and one of those fruity things for…” Emily ordered next to the woman’s ear. 

“Y/n.” 

“A fruity thing for Y/n.” Emily finished with a smile, never letting her eyes leave the woman she’d trapped between the bar and her arms. The bartender nodded and got the drinks out relatively quickly and they moved to the far end of the bar– out of the way but still just as close to each other. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say your name isn’t Princess.” Y/n started as she twirled the straw in her drink and gazed up at Emily through her lashes. 

“It is not. I’m Emily. My friend is just being a sore loser that I seemed to have caught the attention of the most attractive woman here.” Emily shrugged watching as Y/n’s cheeks tinted pink under her grin. 

“Well, I know what I want,” Y/n said, running a hand over the rim of her cup. 

“And what is it that you want?” Emily challenged. 

Y/n chuckled and allowed her hand to trace Emily’s jawline with a sweet smile. “Well if I have it my way, which I normally do, you’ll be wrapped around my finger before the night is over.” 

Emily raised an eyebrow as she allowed a smirk to take over her face, “Is that so?” Y/n didn’t answer at first and brought the straw of her drink to her mouth pulling Emily closer to her body. 

With their chests flushed and their eyes locked, Y/n grinned sweetly and whispered “You’ll see.” Securing Emily’s attention for the rest of the night, and potentially the future.

[syd-djarin]

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[captainmalewriter]

Superstar

Commission Story

“Dude check out my sweet pump! I swear to God I’m getting bigger!” 

Xavier was checking himself out in the mirror while his best friend Carlos sketched something on a legal pad on the nearby living room couch. Carlos stopped drawing for a brief second and looked over at Xavier with lazy eyes.

“Yeah man, you’re getting real massive now,” Carlos lied. Xavier’s bicep looked exactly the same as the last time he checked. “Maybe I’ll ask you to spot me the next time I go for a PR.”

“Alright alright, cut the crap,” Xavier rolled his sleeves back down. “I can do without the teasing, thanks.”

“No I’m serious, X! You’re starting to look like me! C’mon, let’s compare sizes real quick.”

Carlos hopped off the couch and joined Xavier before the full-body mirror. He then took off his shirt in one smooth motion and flexed his muscular torso. 

Having been in various sports throughout his life, Carlos boasted an impressive physique. He had strong, broad shoulders and absolute cannons for arms. Carlos took up most of the mirror space when he posed, which forced Xavier to step to the side. Having seen the same body repeatedly throughout the years, Xavier was no longer impressed by his friend’s athletic build.

“Nah, you’re still pretty small.”

Xavier poked Carlos at his side, where he knew he was most ticklish. Carlos jabbed Xavier in retaliation. Xavier returned the hit in kind. They would then continue exchanging blow for blow, hitting each other’s ticklish spots until one of them eventually called uncle. This was a game they frequently played ever since they first became friends.

Carlos and Xavier had first met in middle school when they sat next to each other in art class. They formed a homework pact soon after first meeting each other. Xavier helped Carlos with his science homework, while Carlos helped Xavier with his drawing assignments. Their mutual agreement led to them becoming best friends. On the outside, they looked like a stereotypical duo that would typically be at odds— Xavier being the scrawny, gay nerd while Carlos was the conventionally handsome, popular athlete, but anyone who knew either of them knew they had a lot of love for each other. Nowadays, even though they attended different colleges, they would still make time to hang out with each other often. Theirs was a friendship that survived the test of time.

“Alright alright, enough!! You win!” Xavier called out. They were both out of breath and red in the face after roughhousing, but that didn’t stop them from sharing a laugh and a bro hug. 

Their loud, combined laughter stopped them from noticing when Carlos’ father, Enrique, arrived home from work. Enrique looked at them with a scowl plastered on his face. Xavier and Carlos both immediately stopped laughing when they noticed him. Carlos felt a cool breeze on his exposed skin, then hurried to put on his shirt, remembering he was shirtless.

“Dad!” Carlos said while slipping his shirt back on. “You’re home early—”

“What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at summer practice already?” 

“Not yet I don’t, practice doesn’t even start for another two hours!”

“What kind of loser talk is that?” Enrique crossed his arms and shook his head in disappointment. “How do you expect to stay ahead of everyone else if you’re not out on the field putting in the extra hours?”

“I’m fine, Dad, I don’t need extra practice hours.”

“Psh, that’s how it always starts. First, you stop going to practice early. Next, you stop going at all. Then, you start getting less and less playing time because you’re not playing as good as you once were. You’re going to lose your scholarship, Carlitos, is that what you want!?”

Xavier noticed Carlos’ eyebrows beginning to furrow and stepped in before he could respond. 

“Hey, let’s just get going. Don’t wanna catch the midday traffic after all.”

Xavier helped himself out while Carlos lagged behind. Carlos gave his father one last cold stare, then began walking out. Enrique stepped towards him as he did so.

“And I want you to stop hanging out around that queer. He’s going to make you weak.”

Carlos stopped once he heard what his father whispered into his ear. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. He wanted to retaliate but couldn’t find the words to do so. All he could do was listen to his father’s dress shoes echoing down the hallway as he left. Carlos cleared his throat and went for his car, where Xavier was already waiting in the passenger seat.

The car ride to Carlos’ college, where summer practice was being held, started off silent and tense. Xavier looked over to his buddy as he drove them down the freeway. He knew Carlos wasn’t the type to show his emotions often, but he knew the dilemma over rugby and his father was eating him alive inside. 

“Hey… Sorry about your Dad. He sucks.”

“Hmph, don’t be. You know he’s always been like that, I’m used to it,” Carlos responded. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep putting up with it. You need to tell him that you wanna pursue art.”

“It’s not that easy—”

“Why not?”

“Dude, c’mon, you know my Dad doesn’t give a fuck about my art. He just wants me to focus on rugby so I can keep my scholarship.”

“Well, can’t you just switch your program of study? He doesn’t have to know!” Xavier teased. Carlos didn’t laugh.

“Can’t. The school won’t allow it. Student athletes can only be in certain programs and art isn’t one of them.”

Xavier wanted to offer a rebuttal but couldn’t think of anything they hadn’t already considered. He stayed quiet and shrunk into the leather cushion of the passenger seat.

“You know, maybe my Dad’s right,” Carlos started. “There are worse things in life than being forced to play rugby. Besides, imagine all the money I’ll earn once I go pro. Maybe sticking with sports is the right call.”

“Dude, what about your art? Art can make you money too! I’ve seen your drawings and paintings, you’ve got talent! You can make it big, even bigger than with rugby!”

“You don’t know that,” Carlos sighed heavily as he stopped at a red light coming off the freeway. “I’m not saying I’ll stop drawing completely, but maybe that shouldn’t be the focus of my life right now. I need to stay in perfect shape if I wanna go pro with rugby.” Carlos turned his head to Xavier and held eye contact with him. His gaze softened. 

“I appreciate you looking out for me, X, but I really don’t think art is in the cards for me. It’s gonna take a miracle to change my Dad’s mind, and I just don’t think it’s gonna happen.” 

Xavier stayed quiet but gave an affirming nod, then looked away. As they pulled into campus, he pointed to the library.

“Drop me off there, I wanna check out some books,” Xavier said. Carlos did as requested.

“You’ve been hanging out at the library a lot lately. You’re not even a student here, what are you doing there?”

“Your school’s got an interesting collection on the history of alchemy, so I’ve been reading it. Nothing special, really.”

Xavier lied. For the past few months, Xavier hadn’t been studying the history of alchemy but rather how to practice alchemy. While he had started his research with a rudimentary understanding of medieval chemistry, Xavier soon discovered that alchemy could be used for way more things besides the old and tired turn-metal-into-gold gimmick. A sly smile formed on Xavier’s face as he finished reading the last alchemy book in the library collection. With a careful hand and enough determination, he could transform anything into anything! Including the human body.

Xavier was ready to put his knowledge into practice that very same night. Against Enrique’s wishes, Carlos let his best friend sleep in their spare room for the night. While they were sound asleep, Xavier’s mind was racing with all the possibilities the world of alchemy had opened up for him. 

Once he finally settled on a plan, he went into action. Xavier crept into Carlos’ room while he was snoring peacefully. He tiptoed slowly, careful not to wake him up, and kneeled beside his bed.

“Alright… Just five minutes then I get out… For the sake of science, nothing more…”

Xavier reached out to Carlos and pulled down his white undershirt. Then, with the tip of his pointer finger, he drew a heart right over his actual heart. He whispered an incantation as he did so. Once he finished tracing the outline of a heart, Xavier lifted his finger and then firmly pressed the center of Carlos’ heart. As soon as he had done so, Carlos’ snoring immediately ceased. It worked. Xavier successfully transformed him into a bodysuit.

While Xavier was overjoyed that his little alchemy experiment had worked, he knew he had no time to celebrate. Xavier had no idea how long the transformation would hold so he hurried to put the Carlos bodysuit on. 

He pried the bodysuit’s mouth wide open then stuck his face inside. Xavier pushed his way down Carlos’ throat. The bodysuit’s internal fluids acted as lubrication for Xavier’s body as he slithered his way inside. He could hear all the slippery, wet noises Carlos’ body was making as it expanded to take in another human body. It was a tight squeeze but with enough force, Xavier was able to force himself into Carlos’ body with one final push. He was in.

Nrrghh…

Xavier heard a moan as he laid inside the bodysuit. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the bodysuit, though that was the least of his worries. Xavier began to stretch his limbs out from inside of Carlos. As his limbs slipped into Carlos’ limbs like sleeves, the once limp bodysuit sprang to life. Slowly but surely, Xavier was able to move and feel through Carlos’ body.

Urghhhh fuckk!!

Xavier let out a loud moan from within Carlos as his senses adjusted to their new body. All at once, he felt the sudden shift in body weight thanks to all the muscle mass Carlos had. Xavier smirked as he ran his hands down his newly obtained firm pecs and chiseled abs. The light body hair brushed against his fingertips, sending electric, sensual sensations as he explored his borrowed muscular body.

Mmmm fuck yeah…

Xavier purred with Carlos’ voice as he continued checking out his new body. He kept a wide grin as he did so. Xavier could hardly believe how much of a success his little alchemy experiment was. Movement… speech… feeling, Xavier controlled it all! 

Even though Xavier was already very familiar with Carlos’ well-toned body, being able to see it from an up close perspective spurred great excitement and pleasure. The tent forming in his sweatpants was a testament to that. Xavier looked at his growing boner with a devilish smirk. He wanted nothing more than to grab and massage his cock, but decided against it. After all, 15 minutes had already passed and he swore he’d only allow himself five minutes. 

Xavier laid back down in bed and let himself out of his borrowed body. He was ejected from Carlos’ body with a loud slurp, leaving an empty bodysuit behind in the bed. Xavier looked down at the limp bodysuit as his senses readjusted. He was worried about possible side effects, but was relieved when Carlos began snoring again after a few minutes had passed. Thankfully, the bodysuit technique he had performed on him seemed to be temporary. Xavier went back to the guest room and practically collapsed on the bed due to fatigue. Performing alchemy and taking on a new body left him physically and mentally exhausted.

Xavier woke up late the next day. Despite having slept in, he was sore and with body aches, most likely due to the bodysuit experiment he had pulled during the night. Xavier stretched and rolled out of bed, wondering who he would use alchemy on next. He had woken up so late that Carlos was already gone for rugby practice, leaving him alone with Enrique.

Enrique was busy working out in the back. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, sunglasses, and a hat. Even from inside the house, Xavier saw how sweaty Enrique was from doing yard work in the hot sun. He watched Enrique toiling away with a hoe for a few minutes. 

“Hm… He’s not a bad option for a bodysuit. Thicker body type, some muscle, lots of body hair, full beard… Yeah, he could definitely be some fun to take over for a spin…”

Then quickly retreated into the hallway when he saw him coming inside. He refused to interact with a man he knew hated him. From the safety of the hallway, Xavier watched Enrique as he took a break on the couch. Enrique noticed Carlos’ notebook sitting on the coffee table and audibly groaned in disapproval.

“I told him he needs to stop drawing… All this art bullshit is gonna get in the way of his focus! I need to hide this before he gets back home.” Enrique leaned his head back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. All while not even noticing that Xavier was glaring at him with a growing vengeful lust.

Any hesitation Xavier had had disappeared when he heard Enrique’s plan. It was a simple plan with amazing benefits: Xavier would get to try out a dad bod, and because it was Enrique he’d be wearing, he could become his best friend’s dad and help him follow his dream of becoming an artist. It was a win-win situation!

Xavier waited a couple of minutes to make sure Enrique’s guard was down, then proceeded to take action. He crawled up to the couch and quietly positioned himself over Enrique. He then gently placed his finger on Enrique’s exposed chest and began outlining a heart, just like he had done with Carlos. Xavier’s finger practically glided along his chest because of how sweaty he was.

Hrmph… Hrm? What the—

Shit!!

Xavier was hoping Enrique had fallen asleep, but he was wrong. He was wide awake. Xavier finished performing the bodysuit ritual as quickly as he could. He managed to complete the ritual before Enrique could fight back. Enrique began transforming into a bodysuit. In a state of panic, Xavier hurried to put him on. He pushed his head into the mouth of the bodysuit and began forcing his way into Enrique’s body. He thought he was in the clear, but then he felt a rubbery hand holding him by the neck.

What are you doing!? Get out of me!!

Xavier heard Enrique’s voice rejecting his presence. He was shocked. He didn’t think someone could resist body invasion once they started turning into a bodysuit. It seemed like Enrique was a fighter! But so was Xavier. Xavier caught a whiff of Enrique’s sweaty musk as he fought his way in. The strong, masculine smell ignited a powerful lust inside of Xavier. He craved more and he was going to make sure he got it no matter what.

Xavier used his full strength to push himself in. Thankfully, although Enrique resisted against him, he was still turning into a bodysuit. The longer it went on, the less of a fight Enrique was able to put up. Xavier crawled his way inside of the dad bodysuit. Enrique’s body expanded and distorted as Xavier’s presence filled up the inside space. With one last burst of energy, Xavier was swallowed up by the bodysuit. The bodysuit began thrashing around on the couch as Xavier began stretching his limbs out into Enrique’s limbs.

Umphh… Stop…! Ughhnnn…

Enrique felt himself getting taken over by the young gay man as it happened. He absolutely hated the thought of it. He felt Xavier’s hands fill in his own hands like a well-fitting glove. He felt the same full sensation with his legs and feet. One finger at a time, one toe at a time, Enrique was completely powerless to fight against Xavier’s growing control over his body. And the worst part of it all was how good Enrique felt having someone wear him like a suit. As Xavier filled in the bodysuit from the inside, was hitting nerve endings Enrique didn’t even know he had. It sent shocks of pleasure that left Enrique jolting and moaning obscenely. His manhood was hardening and leaking precum from all the stimulation. 

Aarrghhh fuckkkk!!

Xavier growled out with Enrique’s voice. He slipped his own cock into Enrique’s growing member like a personal dick sleeve, sending another wave of ecstasy throughout their shared body. An unwanted smirk formed on Enrique’s face once Xavier gained full control over his body. It was over.

Hey! Stop that!! Get your hands off my dick!!

“No way man! This cock’s mine now!!” Xavier teased. He made Enrique’s hands paw at their protruding package. 

He then grabbed and lowered Enrique’s shorts with lightning speed. Enrique’s cock was at full mast and sprung out once it was released. Xavier whistled with delight as he admired his new cock. Enrique had a cock that was as thick as a beer can with a big tip and an unkempt bush of pubic hair too. After thrashing around from getting taken over, Enrique’s body was drenched and glistening with sweat. With a horny grin, Xavier lifted his arm and aired out his sweaty pit hair. The potent smell immediately filled his nostril. He leaned into his pit and took a deep sniff of his musk. The manly aroma fed his arousal, and made his already erect cock to grow even harder and longer.

Stop it! That’s gross!!

Xavier groaned when he heard Enrique complaining from inside his head. 

“Are you sure, big guy? Seems like you’re into it too!” Xavier waved his erect member around, causing precum to drip around his hairy thighs. 

Once Enrique quieted down again, Xavier decided to indulge. He leaned his face back into his ripe armpit and used his tongue to sip a few droplets of salty sweat hanging off his pit hair. He then took another few whiffs of his sweaty scent, groaning as he did so, then ran his fingers down his hairy torso. He stopped momentarily at his nipples to pinch them. Xavier loved the pain sensation jolting through his chest as he pinched his sensitive nipples. His hands continued slithering down until they finally reached his leaking manhood. Xavier ran his fingers through his new bush. His fingers got caught in the forest of thick, black hair. Xavier smirked as he tugged on his bush while his other hand began pumping his throbbing member— all while Enrique was conscious of him moving around with his body.

“Nrghh… fuck man!! Nghhh this feels so good…”

Xavier moaned loudly as he jerked off, much to Enrique’s dismay. Enrique couldn’t do anything but complain as Xavier had free reign over his body. Everytime he protested, Xavier moaned louder and louder until he stopped again. 

This continued for about another five minutes until Xavier felt himself getting close. Once Xavier felt it, he grabbed his throbbing member with both hands and stroked ferociously. His pecs were bouncing up and down with every pump. He was dripping sweat everywhere from how intensely he was jerking off. Then, at the moment of climax, Xavier threw his head back and let out a sensual gasp as load after load of warm cum came shooting out of him like a fire hydrant. His cock was twitching and throbbing until every last load was pumped out of his heavy balls. 

Xavier was breathing heavily. All of the body hair on his upper body became drenched and sticky with all the sweat and cum. He laid on the couch satisfied and completely relaxed, until he heard the garage door opening. Carlos was home.

“Oh fuck, not now!”

Xavier sprang to his feet and hurried to clean up after himself. He threw on his shorts and used nearby napkins to dry off his bodily fluids. No matter how hard Xavier tried, it made no difference. The couch was still soaking wet and he was still red in the face after his little tugging session, but it would have to do for now.

Carlos walked into the living room as soon as Xavier finished throwing away the evidence of what had happened.

“Hey Dad,” Carlos said.

“Hey… Son. How was practice?” Xavier said with a nervous stutter. 

“It was fine, I guess.”

“Hey man, that’s really good to hear! I’m proud of you!” 

“Yeah… thanks.” Carlos looked at him with a confused expression. He couldn’t access his mind even though he had perfect control over Enrique’s body. Without access to his memories, Xavier had to guess what Enrique would say. He was in uncharted territory, and he was terrified.

Carlos!! Hijo! Help me!! Your weird friend is controlling my body!!

Enrique was still shouting in Xavier’s head. Irritated, Xavier accidentally responded out loud.

“I swear to God will you just shut up already!?”

“I didn’t even say anything!!”

“Not you!!” Xavier looked over at Carlos. He shook his head to himself. “I’ve been feeling kind of weird today, I’m sorry.”

Carlos stood apprehensively for a brief moment, then lowered his guard again. “It’s alright, I understand. I had a really weird dream last night. I don’t feel like myself today either.” He took out a car key and offered it to Xavier. “Here, thanks for letting me borrow the truck.”

Not suspecting anything of it, Xavier tried reaching out for it. As soon as he did so, Carlos pinned against the couch.

“Fucking liar! I know it’s you in there Xavier!”

“Huh? No it’s not—”

“Save it. I know my Dad, and he would never say shit like ‘man’ or ‘I swear to God!’ What the fuck is going on!?”

“Okay okay I’ll tell you! Just let me get up first!”

Carlos did as asked. Xavier then explained everything to him. He explained how he used alchemy to turn Enrique into a bodysuit and took over his body and identity. Xavier explained that he wanted to help him pursue his dream of becoming an artist by taking over his dad’s identity. After he was done, Carlos stood up and paced around the room quietly.

“This is insane…” Carlos murmured. Xavier stayed quiet. “This is so fucking insane… And honestly? This might be the miracle I was praying for…”

Xavier was overjoyed that Carlos was on board with his plan. He pulled Carlos in for a bro hug, and after they hugged, Carlos told him to never do that again if he was going to act like his father from now on. Xavier chuckled and nodded.

“You got it, Carlitos, I’ll become an even better father than your dad ever was!” Carlos grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that, Dad.”

From then on, Xavier continued pretending to be Carlos’ father Enrique. Carlos had to teach him what to say and what not to say, but Xavier was a quick learner. Although Carlos still had to play rugby to keep his scholarship, he could finally devote more time to his artwork thanks to his father’s new attitude. Carlos was able to find success as a painter after he graduated. In fact, he had been invited to a gallery opening for rising new artists such as himself. His future as an artist was bright.

And while Carlos was busy making a name for himself, his best friend/new father lived happily too. Xavier loved his new dad bod, and so did the gay hunks at the local gym. They would never give him the time of the day back in his old body, but with his new DILF body? They were all over him. Although Enrique still occasionally complained in his head, Xavier learned how to ignore him. The old Enrique had become a distant memory over the years as Xavier and Carlos lived their best lives as a happy father and son duo.

Thank you for supporting!!

[andromedastarrs]

Miguel O'Hara SFW Headcanons (x GN Reader) How The Relationship Develops!

Because there are almost none that I see and agree with, and too many are NSFW and uncharacteristic.

(no hate /gen, do whatever tf u want idc)

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Miguel O'Hara x GN Reader because I said so.

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When you meet:

You try talking to him: He gives you blunt and short responses.

When you first meet it's all cold, no instant spark for him anyways. Ofc you've seen him and you're like "Wow he's handsome!" But all he sees is another person, nothing special. It's not your fault, this man is just closed off for his own reasons.

You try to joke with him: If it's funny he'll smile... Maybe even exhale through his nose while doing so. If it's crude or not his type of humor, he won't even turn to look at you and instead will give you something to do to make you go away.

What's his type of humor? I like to think it's the "smartass" type of humor but not in an overbearing type of way. The type of humor that comes naturally-- I picture this: you respond with a little snark when he's bossy, or something, and if it's clever he'll sarcastically compliment that. It's often a hit or miss with him too. He'll start smiling more the more you guys know eachother.

If you get his number for whatever reason and you try texting him, he WILL leave you on read if you text him about stuff outside of missions/work. If you bring it up, he'll just tell you that it's not personal and that he doesn't like texting.

If you compliment him he will say thank you, he's cold but not mean. Something like "Thank you for helping me with this, I like coming to you for 'x' because you're really smart and explain stuff nicely." However if the compliment has some sort of ulterior motive (think catcalling) he'll definitely glare at you and either not respond or say "Okay." (Just don't flirt right away...he literally does NOT KNOW YOU.)

Keep your gaze respectful, I don't care if he's a man, you don't eyeball someone for fun if they show discomfort. And he would, if you were caught doing so and he didn't even know you personally. Eugh... Let's be civil!

With that in mind, if you try to pry into his personal backstory too early he will most likely not open up to you about it until wayyyyyyy later since he'll trust you less for being so nosey. Let HIM open up naturally.

Don't call him moody.

How do you become friends? It depends on him, he definitely chooses (and is picky with) who he wants to get close to, so, really you have no say and can't do anything to make him like you. Even if you're conventionally attractive it won't affect how he feels about you LMAOOOO. IMO he has a sort of switch in his head that goes "...Okay, I like this person, I should try being friends with them."

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When you guys are friends:

I'd like to think the friendship is made official when he vocalizes that he cares about your safety. Hmmmmmmmm, I'd imagine him being like "Hey, take care of yourself out there." Something sweet and short, and he'll make eye contact with you through it. And for once, his expression is calm and his eyebrows aren't furrowed.

Speaking of which, you will definitely see him smile more and you will occasionally catch his expression soften when you show up.

You two will start talking about how your days went. He never did this in the beginning when he didn't know you.

He'll tell you some non-personal stuff about him like his favorite coffee and lunch, his favorite color... Only if you ask though. He's not the type to just say that stuff on his own. (Might seem contradictory, let me explain-- If he doesn't know you, don't force it. If he wants to get to know you, feel free to start making moves. That way he feels comfortable, a sort of mutualistic pique in interest.)

Before, he'd rather be alone than be with you. Now that you're friends, he'd like to listen to you talk about yourself while he stays quiet and listens. Perhaps you ramble on about something you're passionate about and he's typing away. And when you pause for whatever reason, he'll say that he's still listening.

You have now unlocked the ability to have conversations with Miguel 🙌

They're short convos but they mean a lot to the both of you, even if they're about what you'll be having for lunch that day.

Speaking of food lol, if you bring him coffee he'll smile and give you a thank you. If you treat him to lunch he'll probably say yes. Probably. If he's overstimulated or overwhelmed from work he'll say "No, thank you." Also, no need to be shy and stuff, just ask him out genuinely.

Not a fan of self-deprecation; if you're friends he will try his best to cut it short and provide some comfort, "That's not true..." and will give you reasons as to why. However if it's overbearing (like you do it CONSTANTLY) he will try to pull away from you. He is constantly stressed about the multiverse, talking to a friend should be his time to relax a little.

Friendship bracelets... I think he'd think they're corny but he would wear one if it's not too funny looking. Like the ones made from threads of matching colors... De wouldn't wear the ones with the BFF beads.

If you're both working in the same space and it's too quiet, he'll probably start a little convo, hearing your voice is comforting. That being said though, sometimes he likes the quiet. In this scenario I'd say let him decide.

Give him self care tips in a nice way and he'll genuinely appreciate it. I think if you're well put together he'll even ask you, lol!

Text him and he'll respond, it'll be short but it'll be a response. He'll also reach out first sometimes to check in on you too. "Hey how's your day been?"

On that note, it's safe to say that Miguel is up to date with current memes, again he's not dumb. If you send him those funny cat videos/pics he will find it amusing, will probably not laugh irl but will smile because he finds it funny that you find it funny.

He will download Pinterest (you told him that's where you get your memes from) and will scroll on it during his free time, if he spots some meme he knows you'd like he'd send it to you, saying it reminded him of you.

Playful banter is welcomed, encouraged only when he is the one starting it. You can start the banter yourself, but just make sure he's in the mood for it.

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The spark ignites inside of Miguel:

He'll be the one initiating conversations a lot more often, and you'll notice it.

He'll surprise you with lunch! He'll know your fave foods from all the chats you guys had as friends, and has some sort of keen sense as to what you are craving that day specifically.

This one is a bit more funny, but if you tease him by being a little mean (you can now that he has that little spark ignited), he'll turn away from you, but keep himself in view enough for you to see his signature pout. He will look down at the ground and smile before coming up with a comeback, which always usually beats your initial jab.

He'll teach you some words in Spanish if you want him to, but be warned that he'll take his job as your Spanish teacher very seriously. He will randomly speak in Spanish to test you, and if you don't understand him he'll tease the absolute shit out of you. One sentence turns into three, turns into a whole conversation starter.

If you respected the backstory thing, by now he'll open up about it with you privately. The spark being ignited means that he sees something between the both of you he wants to pursue, and that means that he wants to be fully honest with you from now on.

That being said, if you decide to lie about something to him and he finds out during this stage, he'll throw the relationship back to just friends for a good time... I'd say the bond is broken forever but hey you never know right? I think it depends on the lie tbh.

If you're shorter, he'll pat your head once before you go away from him, maybe even mess with your hair a bit (if you're okay with that ofc, shout-out to my curly haired ppl, taking care of our hair is not for the weak and even if it was Miguel O'Hara messing it up I'd be pissed off). If you're taller, he'll swipe his hand up on your back or maybe even pat it. (Hopefully you can picture that sorry lol.)

He will appreciate hugs from you in this stage! Ofc you need to ask him first, don't wanna catch him in a bad mood, he'll feel suffocated if you hug him while he's angry.

On that note, if you're leaving and say "...What, no hug goodbye?" He'll definitely smirk and cross his arms... Will playfully pretend to ponder while looking at the ground, and will respond "...Fine, I guess you can have one." He will hug you tightly to tease you back.

Remarks about how he looks will now be appreciated, and I think he'd put more effort into how he looks for you. Keep it sweet though. 🙄🫰

If he's quiet because he's upset/angry, he'll avoid you. He just doesn't wanna explode around you.

Will take you out on an official date (yippee!) and depending on the type of person you are (whether or not you like restaurants as a first or a picnic) he'll do his best to dress accordingly (restaurant = suit, picnic = nice t-shirt and jeans).

Will ask what you think about his outfits. Be honest with him, honesty is the best policy.

Will ask for advice regarding work, he never did this as friends. He likes to think his way is the best way, but he's starting to care a lot about you and what you think too.

Will get you a gift occasionally, not randomly. I think during holidays and on your b-day. He never did this as friends. He even asks to hang out with you on these days. :3

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The relationship:

He will be the one to make things official, he'll do this by getting you a nice piece of jewelry and planning a date somewhere he knows you'd love. Definitely the type to say "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Every time he sees you he'll smile, unless he's angry. If he's angry his eyebrows will just relax (expression softens in general) but he'll still be frowning. You'll always be able to soften his heart, but it'll be like a meter, you know?

When you gotta go, if you're shorter he'll hug you and press his cheek against your head, will give you a forehead kiss depending on the mood, will always tell you to stay safe and that he loves you. If you're taller he'll hug you and press his forehead against your chest to feel your heartbeat lol, in this scenario I see you being the one to kiss his forehead and he lets you.

Texts you updates, and in general more often. Will call you, he never did this before now.

Will hang out with you more, I think he'd even take days off routinely to spend them with you. Like Saturdays and Sundays he leaves and lets someone take care of his work-- But he'll occasionally pop in to check in on them via text to make sure stuff at work is alright.

Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner is now between the both of you. A nice break from work.

Will let you touch him, for example running your hand up and down his arm, holding his hand, giving his face kisses/quick pecks. He appreciates all of your touches.

In general you will see him soften up more, he's less angry (still has his days, T-T), and is seen smiling more by the people around him too.

After some time (1/2 yrs) he will ask for you to move in with him.

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Thanks for reading, imma do another post that has random headcanons too and not relationship based ones :3

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[gaarakun]

young and handsome kpop idols

summary: john gets jealous when you, his young girlfriend, watch young and and handsome kpop boys that are your age over giving him attentions

warning: mentions of sex, jealousy, age gap

short little thing but since stray kids had a comeback, i kinda turned back to my kpop era, also, sorry for my bad English and my bad grammar

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You would lie if you said you weren’t like all girls, even tho you were in the SAS from a young age, you still enjoyed most things that a girl in her 20s would enjoy. One of these things being kpop, your favorite kpop group recently had a comeback and you found yourself watching the new MV and fancams.

While Price watches a football game, you were sitting in his lap with your head across his chest, while watching your bias’ fancam while you silently hum the song. John caught your slight humming and started caressing your thigh as there was a TV spot.

“What you watching, love?” Price asks as he looks at your phone screen.

“Just a kpop thingie” you answer without taking off your eyes from your phone, John catches on this and acts offended as his sweet girlfriend ignores him while watching pretty men singing kpop.

Now, John wasn’t the type of being jealous of every man that catches your eye but there was a certain something about you being attracted to a man who was the total opposite of him. While he was a big and old muscular man who had a dirty job, they were these young, delicate and fashionable men, and it was reasonable that you like them, they were just like you! they were your age! and they were conventionally attractive!

“Love…” he tries to get your attention, at which you respond with a hum. “Y/N” he tries to get your attention again but he doesn’t get an answer, he actually didn’t have to tell you anything nor needed something but he needed your attention in this little jealous act.

Since he doesn’t get any response he decides to snatch your phone way. “Hey! what was that for?” you argue trying to get your phone back.

“Cmon, sweetheart. Do you really prefer watching these weak men over me?” He asks with a playful smile as he plays the fancam you were previously watching.

“Oh… why?” you cross your arms catching on what is this about. “Are you jealous or something?” You ask with a big grin in your face.

“Jealous?! of this young boy? Never” He rolls his eyes.

“But you totally are jealous! I know you, John Price” you say while laughing.

“M’not” he groans and crosses his arms but when he sees that smug grin on your face he slightly blushes and playfully drags you on top of him again while he tickles your sides. He is totally jealous but he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Okay, I believe you, you’re not jealous!” you giggle as he tickles you, once he stops you straddle his lap, facing him. “But really, are you jealous?” you ask cupping his cheek with a pout on your face.

John sighs, he is jealous. Jealous that you might leave him for someone younger, in his mind you deserve to be someone your age and not with his old self. “Maybe… a tiny bit” He says while holding your waist, he looks at the floor, he knows that if he looks at your eyes, he will melt. “I know it’s stupid, they are celebrities… but they are the opposite of me, they are young and handsome and I’m just an old men dating you” he looks into your eyes this time, you can see his gentle eyes softening at the thought.

“John…” you cup his cheeks and look at him with a frown. “But I don’t want a young man my age, I want you! I want my handsome, strong and a little bit old man” you smile at the last thing you mentioned. “Besides, you’re not that old, it’s just a couple years difference” you say as you rest your cheek into his chest.

“I know, love. It’s just sometimes it makes me think that you deserve someone better, someone that you can have fun with. Not and old and boring man like me” he says as he runs his fingers through your hair, a sad look on his face.

“Well, don’t think that, I have a lot of fun with you and I told you, I don’t want a man like that, I want a man that I can chill with, a man that I can be domestic with, and a man that can handle me and you’re that man!” you smile at him. “I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t find these kpop idols attractive but that doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive too, besides I like my men big” you grin at him.

“Naughty girl” he laughs as he pinches your thigh. “Okay, love. I believe you, sorry for being ridiculous about some kpop idols” he sighs and places a few kisses on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, I kinda like it when you’re jealous” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and look at him with big doe eyes.

“I’ll ruin you for other men” he grins as he holds your hips close to his crotch.

“Wait, I need to finish the fancam!” you grab your phone as you play the fancam again.

“I was right, you prefer those kpop idols over me!” Price argues with a fake frown on his face as he tries to take your phone away.

“Well, I said I like big men and look at Changbin’s arms” you argue back as you continue watching the fancam.

John can’t do anything besides waiting for you to finish this video, but now the song is stuck to his brain.

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

More | One-Shot

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” “I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want."

You and Leon have some time alone in a closet.

Pairing: DBD!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Blowjob (Giving), Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus (Receiving), P in V Sex

Notes: Hey guys! This one-shot was originally part of a collection, but I've decided to reupload it as a standalone. This is my first ever (posted) one-shot and smut piece! Enjoy!

Masterlist Catalogue

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You wake up early that day, a plan forming in your head the moment you open your eyes.

You get dressed, something simple and comfortable, before you go about your morning routine.

After getting ready, you head towards the storage closet that holds all of the survivors’ extra clothes. 

You’re going to get a new outfit today. 

Hopefully something sexy, but easy to maneuver in. You aren’t sure if your little scheme would make much of a difference, but why not try?

You hear your name as you beeline towards your destination, the familiar voice pulling you from your thoughts.

When you turn, you find Leon standing beside you, clearly having to jog to catch up. “Hey, you look like a woman on a mission. Going somewhere?”

You laugh. “You could say that. I wanted to dig around in the storage closet. Hope to find something new to wear.” 

“You mind if I join you? I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides, I could use a change myself.” 

You’re a little surprised by the offer. You and Leon have started becoming friends over the last few months, but he usually keeps his distance unless you happen to be in the same space. You’re enthralled by it, however, as you’ve formed a massive crush on the young cop. 

“Sure! Maybe I could even pick it out for you,” you say, that last part more of a joke. 

“I can’t promise I’ll like it, but you can try,” he replies, chuckling lightly. 

You reach the closet, locking the two of you inside with the hook latch that was installed, put there to prevent anyone walking in on those changing in the small room. 

You ask Leon his sizes and make him turn around while you pick out clothes for him, informing him it has to be a surprise. 

You finish, telling him to turn back towards you, shoving the pile into his hands. He looks skeptically at the items before glancing at you with a raised brow.

“Well, go ahead. Try them on,” you encourage. 

“In front of you?” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, facing away from him as you reply, “I’m turning around, obviously.” 

He takes a few minutes but lets you know as soon as he’s done. 

You look over at him, taking in his appearance with a low whistle. It isn’t anything crazy, just an open flannel with the sleeves rolled up, hanging off a well-fitted t-shirt. There’s a pair of bootcut jeans that sit snugly on his bottom half.

“Looking good, Kennedy. I think this is a winner.” 

“I like it,” he responds, appraising himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “Though the pants are a little… tighter than I’m used to.”

“C’mon, with a butt that cute, you can’t keep it all to yourself,” you tell him, giving him a mischievous grin as you get an eyeful. 

He scoffs. “Is that so?” 

“Mhm. Only rivals your face. In fact, you probably have the prettiest face in the realm.” 

You can see a blush spreading across his cheeks, but he hides it with a small smile. “Not half as pretty as you.” 

You quirk a brow at him. “Oh, so we’re lying now?”

“I’m not lying,” he replies, defensive. 

“So you’re not trying to butter me up for something?”

“No, I’m not. Are you usually this bad at taking a compliment?”

“Only when it’s from pretty boys like you.” 

He rolls his eyes at that, exasperated. “Just my luck, then.”

You laugh. “I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. I appreciate the compliment. On a more serious note, I guess I’m not used to being flattered like that. Especially by someone—oh, I don’t know—more on the conventionally attractive side of the spectrum?”

“Really? I don’t get why. You’re gorgeous.” 

“I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, maybe. But when I do get complimented by a guy, it’s usually because he wants something from me,” you explain, shrugging, before searching for your own outfit on the racks. 

“Like what?” 

You give a disbelieving laugh at his naivete. “Sex, Kennedy.”

“Oh… Well, I wasn’t trying to get into your pants or anything.” 

You turn back to face him, a dress folded over your arm. “So you’re telling me you don’t want anything from me?” 

“Of course not!” He seems appalled by your insinuation.

“Not even… a kiss?” 

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” 

“I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want.” 

“I don’t want anything from you! I swear!” 

“Hm. A shame. Turn around so I can change, please.”

Looking more than a little flustered, he does as you ask, though he can still see you in the mirror in front of him. He tries not to peek, but he finds it hard to avoid taking a quick glance at your backside, the soft curve of your ass making his fingers twitch. 

“Did you… want me to kiss you?” he prods, folding his arms across his chest and feeling suddenly diffident. 

“Well, I’d never deny you one,” you respond noncommittally, pulling the dress over your form. “You can turn around now.” 

He follows your command and you see his eyes rake over you appreciatively. The dress is flowy, the billowing sleeves cinched at your wrists and the skirt reaching just below your knee. 

What really catches his wandering gaze, though, is the tight bodice, which exposes an excessive amount of your cleavage. 

His face is turning hot as he forces himself to peel away his stare. “Wow. What’s the occasion?” 

You look at yourself in the mirror. “I thought maybe I could use this as a distraction for the killers in trials. Obviously, there are many that wouldn’t even care, but some of them still have… human urges… under all that monstrosity.” 

Leon laughs. “My concern would be distracting us survivors instead. Or worse, garnering too much attention from a killer.” 

“Hm,” you reply, swishing out the skirt. Regardless of its usefulness, you’re going to keep it. “I guess that would be a problem. Well, I’m going to change back.”  

Leon nods, turning around yet again. 

There’s a moment of silence between you and, against his better judgment, he says, “You know, I’ve thought about what it would be like.”

“To?” 

“Kiss you.” 

He meets your eye in the mirror as you spin on your heels, only in your underwear. He quickly looks away, ashamed that he was caught ogling you. 

Unabashed, you stride up to him, grabbing his arm to turn him towards you. “Is that so?” 

His breath is caught in his throat as he looks at you, now able to see your exposed front. You were in a bra and panties and he wanted nothing more than to touch you. 

“All the time,” he admits further, trailing up his gaze to your own. Your eyes are blazing, but not in anger like he worried. No, the look is determined. Challenging. 

Full of lust.

You get closer, trailing your hand up to rest on his cheek. He leans into the touch, entranced by how silky the skin of your palm is against his face.

“Well, would you like to make that a reality?” you ask, giving him an out. 

He would never take it, not when all he’s wanted since meeting you is dangling in front of him like this. He thought about the conversation you just had moments ago and felt a twinge of guilt. 

He’s a goddamn liar. He did want something from you.

No, not just something. Everything.

He doesn’t answer, instead surging forward and kissing you. 

It’s gentle, his lips soft against yours, but there’s a desperation and eagerness in it that catches you off guard.

He grabs your face in his hands, your own bracing against his chest as you open your mouth to him. He wastes no time in dancing his tongue against yours, a sigh trapped in your throat. 

After a while, you pull away and he looks down at you, confused. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you reply, a little breathless. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to take this further.” 

His eyes widen, shocked that he would be getting anything more than the taste of your lips. He drops his hands to his sides and glances at the door apprehensively. “What if someone wants in here?”

You giggle. “Well, it’s locked, so we have time to get dressed. Besides, people rarely come into this room. And no one knows to look for us here.”

He swallows thickly, turning back to face you, “I’ll be honest, I’m not exactly… experienced.” 

“Are you a virgin?” There’s no judgment in your tone, just curiosity.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not, but it’s just been a while.”

“I’m shocked,” you say. “I figured someone like you would be getting tail left and right.” 

He lets out a soft puff of laughter. “Sure, there have been girls interested in me, but I’ve always been kinda particular about who I get intimate with. I've only had one girlfriend, back in high school. We broke up when she went to a college out of state and I decided to join the police academy. It took me a while to get over her, and I never really clicked with anyone else.”

“Are you insinuating we click, Kennedy? I feel special,” you tease, gently traveling a hand to his neck and caressing the hairs at the nape of it with your fingers.

His eyes are warm as he regards you. “I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“If that’s the case,” you respond with an impish smile, backing away from him and leaping to perch on the dresser set against the far wall, “then there’s no reason to stop now.”

He follows you—because he knows now he always will, forever—and situates himself between your open legs, leaning down to kiss you again, even more fervently than before.

His hands lay still on your waist and you whine into his mouth before pulling away, “Touch me, Leon.”

He exhales a nervous breath as he slowly trails his palms up to press against your still-covered breasts. Feeling impatient, you reach behind you and unclasp your bra, revealing your naked chest to him. 

You let out a quiet, raspy moan as he touches you, looking at you with awe. He gently pinches your nipples to hear your noises again before replacing one hand with his mouth, sucking on the hardened peak. 

You pull his face up to yours and kiss him again, vigorously, before asking, “What all have you done before?”

He doesn’t stop moving his hands against your breasts as he replies, “Fingering. I’ve gotten a handjob a few times. Sex itself, obviously. That’s about it.”

There’s a gleam in your eyes, “So you’ve never been sucked off before?” 

He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed. 

You slip off the dresser and he worries he’s lost your interest due to his inexperience before you turn him to lean against the piece of furniture, kneeling on the concrete floor in front of him.

“What are you doing?” 

You look at him, trailing your hands up his clothed legs. “What do you think I’m doing, Leon?”

He shudders as you open both his belt and his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before gliding your fingers across his already hardened length tucked behind the cloth of his underwear. 

You waste no time in freeing his cock from the confines of his boxer briefs, sliding them down to rest atop his crumpled jeans.

It jumps to attention in front of you, the length and girth of it practically perfect in every way, just like the rest of him. His pubes—dark blonde like the hair that falls over his eyes as he stares down at you in anticipation—are trimmed and well-groomed, which you take a second to appreciate.

You grab his member in your hand and give him one long, languid stroke, looking directly at him. He gasps, those beautiful pink lips parting into a lovely “O” as he grips the edge of the dresser. 

You continue to pump him in your hand for a few moments, using the pre-cum that beaded at the tip to slicken his shaft. 

You lean forward, lips ghosting along the head of his cock. “You ready for this, Kennedy?” 

He nods quickly, practically heaving from the suspense and teasing you’ve subjected him to. 

You smile and open your mouth, taking him as far as you could down your throat in one swift motion. 

He moans, the sound beautiful but far too loud in the small space.

You pull back for a moment. “If you’re so worried about getting caught, Leon, you should really be more quiet.” 

He looks sheepish, but the expression is quickly replaced with one of ecstasy as you take him back into your mouth, sucking and licking as you slide up and down his length. 

You fall into a nice rhythm, Leon’s knuckles turning white as he grips the wood of the dresser hard, trying to keep himself from bucking up into you or grabbing you by the hair and pushing you down further. What a gentleman.

After a few minutes, he does card a hand through your hair, gently. But instead of pushing you forward, he pulls you back. You release his member from your mouth and look up at him expectantly.

“I-I’m getting close,” he says, panting. 

“You don’t want to finish in my mouth?” 

He groans, clearly affected by your words, but shakes his head.

You stand up, palming his cock as you lean into him. “Use your words, Kennedy.”

He scoffs, but is clearly too invested to fight against your teasing, pulling you into a heated kiss before replying, “I want to feel you.” 

“Good boy,” you respond, peeling your panties off of you before sitting back on the dresser and spreading your legs. “But you could at least warm me up first.” 

His breath hitches as he looks at your cunt, now completely bare before him, bringing his hand between the two of you to slide a finger through your folds.

You whine as he teases you like that for a moment, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as he rubs against your clit in a slow, careful circle. 

He dives his finger into you, curving it at a delicious angle as he pumps it in and out. He adds another finger, the slight stretch only barely scratching the itch you so desperately needed. Regardless, you can feel yourself reaching your peak and you had no plan of denying yourself that. 

To your dismay, he pulls those lovely, lithe fingers completely from your now-drenched core. You’re about to complain until you see the way he looks at the mess on his fingers, his expression curious as he brings them to his lips. He sucks them clean as you watch him, eyes lidded. 

“I want to taste more of you,” he whispers, waiting for your approval. 

“Please do.”

That’s all he needs as he falls to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders. He kisses up the inside of your thigh as he reaches your aching center, desperate for his touch. 

Your eyes meet and he swipes his tongue through your folds experimentally. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the expression enough encouragement for him to keep going. 

He tongue-fucks you for a while as he traces a finger over your clit, the motions getting you near the edge, but not quite enough to push you over.

“More, Leon. Please,” you beg in a hushed voice. 

He switches up his movements, opting to return to using his fingers to massage inside of you as he sucks your clit between his lips.

You start rocking your hips forward against him, desperate for release, not realizing your moans were getting louder with every passing second. 

He pulls back and you cry out in frustration, his free hand pressing firmly against your hip to stop you from squirming, his tone snarky as he says, “Who needs to be quiet now?” 

You dig your fingers into his hair and tug his face harshly towards your dripping sex, a gasp escaping him at the rough action, warning, “Watch it, Kennedy.”

You feel him smirk against you, but he doesn’t push his luck, falling back into his previous ministrations. You keep your hand in his hair, your other one formed into a fist and pressed into your mouth, biting down on the flesh there to keep yourself from getting any louder.

Finally, you reach your climax, moaning against the skin of your knuckle as you offer a muffled, “I’m cumming, Leon!” 

A wave of euphoria washes over you, your back arching as you grind yourself against his face to ride out the high. 

He pulls back, fingers still moving inside of you for a few more moments until your legs stop shaking against his shoulders. He looks smug as he stands and wipes your juices from his face, your legs dropping to dangle in front of the dresser once more.

“That was really good,” you tell him, grinning as he pulls off the flannel and t-shirt, ogling the lean muscles of his body that are now fully exposed to you. “Hard to believe you never did that before.” 

“Well, I had to make up for the way your mouth worked me over earlier,” he replies, pressing his lips against your neck, softly nibbling on the skin there. 

“Ah, equivalent exchange. How civil of you.”

He pulls back, his hand now laying against your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he smiles down at you. “I’m a public servant after all, ma’am.”

You laugh and he chuckles lightly before pulling you into a deep kiss, hushing you. He wraps his arms around you and draws you closer to him. You do the same, your bare chests pushed against each other as you both squeeze tightly, your bodies and lips molding together perfectly. 

You pull from the kiss and he chases your mouth, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it. 

“You still want more?” you ask lowly, running a finger along his spine.

You feel him shiver under your touch as he responds, “Yes. I need it. I need you.” 

You kiss him again before letting him go, leaning back on the dresser, supporting yourself on your bent arms. He sighs wantonly as he runs his hands down your sides to your legs, pulling them over his shoulders once more.

He grabs his cock with a single hand, the fingers of his other digging into one of your thighs to keep them apart. He slides the head through your folds before pressing against your entrance, not yet moving forward.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he questions, those beautiful cerulean eyes trained on yours, waiting for your signal.

You nod, desperate for this. “Please just fuck me, Leon.”

He hisses as he pushes slowly into you. You let out a whimper at the stretch, burning so good it makes you close your eyes, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck, this feels amazing,” he laments, pulling his hips back before snapping them forward again.

You start with soft gasps, but he picks up the pace, the sound of his moans triggering your own to spill from your mouth.

He seems to realize he lost himself for a moment, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you forward to kiss you so passionately, it makes your head spin, your legs moving to hook around his waist.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he tells you, but you already knew he was close by the way he shudders against you. 

“Cum for me, Leon. I want you to cum inside of me,” you reply breathlessly, dragging your nails down his back, hard enough to leave marks.

He tangles the hand at the back of your neck into your hair, making you look at him, his eyes dark.

His other hand braces against your lower back as his thrusts become sloppy, pushing you farther onto him—his cock as deep as it can possibly go—as he cums with a groan. 

You kiss him as you cry out at the feeling, the two of you swallowing each other’s bliss. 

He stills and breaks the kiss, panting as he looks down at you. He seems to come back to himself and searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you okay?” 

Heavy breaths beginning to calm, you laugh, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Just peachy.” 

He smiles lazily, pulling you back into a kiss. There’s less desperation in it, the movement of his lips slow and soft, but you can feel the sense of want that radiates from him. It’s so sweet and romantic, it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

Eventually—begrudgingly—he releases you from the kiss.

He’s about to pull out of you, but you stop him, not wanting to make a mess. “Could you grab that scarf over there?”

He looks over at the accessory, hanging close to the two of you from the left-hand rack, before grabbing it. 

You thank him and you both hiss as he gently pulls out of you. He quickly brings the scarf between your legs, catching the cum that leaked from your now sore sex. He wipes you clean, for which you’re grateful, and then tosses the scarf to the floor, the two of you changing back into the clothes you walked into the closet with in the first place. 

He gathers up his new outfit—the one he just fucked you in, to his disbelief—in his arms, watching you as you grab the dress you tried on and the scarf from the ground.

He looks at you questioningly and you say, “Would be pretty rude to leave it in here for someone to find, don’t you think?”

“Fair.” 

“Besides, I could always use another scarf. It’s so damn chilly here.”

“You’re actually going to wear it?”

“I mean, after I wash it, yeah.” 

He flushes a bit at that, realizing that every time he would see you in the accessory, he’d be reminded of what transpired between you. 

He wonders with a sudden fear if this was all you wanted to do with him. Would this be the only occasion he would get to share this intimacy with you?

You head towards the door to unlock it when he grabs your wrist. “Hey, was this just a one-time thing?”

“Did you want it to be?” 

He’s shocked by the question. Of course he doesn’t. He’s wanted you for months, and if you asked him to marry you tomorrow, he would in a heartbeat, no matter how stupid that would be. 

He doesn’t understand this feeling, how visceral it is. He loved his ex, he knows he did, but whatever exists between you and him is denser than a black hole and burns brighter than any supernova.

“No, I want…” How could he even word it? Could he ever explain this desire? This endless yearning that only seemed to grow in intensity now that he had the chance to be with you?

He can imagine what a life with you looked like, even despite the grim reality of the world you both were trapped in. Daydreamed about it often when he was alone in his room at night. 

He already did his best to protect you in trials, and you often healed him as thanks for taking a hit for you. But if you were his, he could see you fussing over him as you worked on whatever injury he would sustain, and he’d steal a kiss as you admonish him for not being more careful. 

He can see himself waking up to you in his rickety old bed, those lovely eyes of yours half-lidded as you look up at him. He can envision the way they’d crinkle at the edges as he tickles you, making you laugh that wonderful, musical little giggle he can’t seem to get enough of. 

All of it was laid out so plainly before him, but how could he manage to make you see it too? You’d probably think he was crazy if he even tried. 

“More?” you offer, smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flip.

Maybe you understood after all.

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.” 

You walk up to him, eyes bright, and pull him into one last, searing kiss.

It tastes like a promise. 

“I think I’d like that, Leon.”

And with that, you were out the door.

--------------------

Masterlist Catalogue

[egotisticaleverything]

High school Party

Bo Burnham x reader

A/N: this has been rotting in my draft for centuries so not requested just needed to finish this and cure my writers block for good !!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Bo being unreasonably mean, reader is a down bad loser, almost fucking to prove a point

“Hey-Uh Bo?” I tap the tall boys shoulder, trying to get his attention in the crowded living room we’re standing in, “I wanted to ask if I could have your number- so we could like hand out some time?”

“What?” He says after turning around

“I said could I have your number-“

“I heard you fuck face I’m just not falling for the same song and dance again” he scoffs, taking a sip from his cup.

“What do you mean-“ I sputter out

“I know Chrissy sent you over here to fuck with me alright?” He shrugs “hey hot popular conventionally attractive friend of mine, go over and ask out the weird skinny kid.” He mocks her in a high pitched voice.

“What- no I just want your number asshole the fuck?” I scowl at him stepping back, phone in my left hand, beer in my right.

“Fine whatever. I’ll put my number in your phone. Just shut up.” He grabs my phone.

“Thanks, geez for an apparent ‘nerd’ you sure are a dickhead” I roll my eyes, looking down at my beer.

“Here.” He almost chucks the phone back at me “you win your little dare, pass go to collect 200” he walks away unphased.

“Bo- wait” I grab his arm “could we like maybe hang out some time..?” I manage to crack a slight smile as if my heart isn’t racing

“God you’re a good actress” he turns his head towards me “fine. Lunch. Tomorrow. Text me your address.” He pulls his arm away.

I look down at my phone to see the contact name he’s given himself “Truth or dare”, thought he’d be more original.

Me: I’m not Jk wit u I actly like u dmbas :/

TorD: ok def selling it 2 hard

Me: fuk u

TorD: shut up ur drnk

Me: I wish I wernt so cute cuz if u wernt id kill u

TorD: get sober then u can smd :P jkkkk

Me: u still at da party

TorD: obvi dmbas

Me: meet u upstairs in 10

TorD: no u wont

Me: yes I will

TorD: fine im redy for ur prank or wtver

Me: u still think im jk lol XD

________________________________

———————————

I walk into the room to see Bo sat on the bed “Surprised to see me here?” He jokes “I made sure to scope out the whole room for whatever you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything- what is wrong with you?” I am starting to get annoyed at this point,

“Yeah sure whatever-“ I cut him off by pulling him into a kiss, grabbing the collar of his shirt as I straddle his hips on the bed. I slowly bring my left hand up behind his head, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as he groans. “You’re a good fucken actor.”

“I-… am not-… acting-…” I say between kisses as I lower Bo onto the bed, “you fucking brat.” I heave,

“God you’re something alright…” Bo attempts to catch his breath

“You’re lucky I take birth control” I say as I start undoing my jeans,

“Holy fuck you’re serious about this…” he looks up red faced

“You’re finally catching on, great work.” I scoff “Now what do you want me to do to you?” I giggle, trailing a hand down his chest.

“I-uhm wow” his cocky demeanour has completely disappeared, replaced with a flustered mess of a man who’s almost melting below me.

“What do you want me to do to you?” I ask him firmer this time as I throw my shirt across the room.

“I-oh wow uhm I-I’ve never gotten this far” he stutters and stumbles as i straddle him in nothing but my underwear and bra,

“I can tell.” I cross my arms “now use your big boy words and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I mean I really do-I’m not sure I-“

“Just say it”

“What”

“The first thing that comes to your mind”

“I-uh- fuck- I’m sorry” he facepalms, the crimson of his face barley peaking out.

“What-Bo?” I pull his hands away from his face, genuinely concerned.

“Why are you of all people into me?” He looks away,

“I-what do you mean?” I ask genuinely confused, what does he mean ‘me of all people’.

“You’re friends with Chrissy and Grace and all those other really pretty girls-“ he starts rambling “fuck you’re gorgeous, I-I mean that’s the reason I was so defensive…” his eyes drifted towards me, as he obviously tried to not look at my body.

“Bo… why do you think I stare at you every day in chemistry-?” I ask now just as red faced as the man below me “why do you think I spend so much time around the drama club when crew aren’t even needed-“

“What-?”

“Ever since freshman year- Bo I’ve been in love with yo-“ I’m suddenly cut off by a kiss, as he sits up, one of Bo’s hands finds its place on the back of my neck, the other places itself on my lower back.

“I’m- I don’t think I want to rush into this…” he sighs “I think you’re really pretty and fun to be around but I don’t want to take things too fast-“

“Thank god-sorry but I like you too much to just fuck you and prove a point.” I laugh sitting up “so… are you free next Friday after drama club?”

[zipperrants]

since I havent done this in a while lets bring back the me and my moots as incorrect quotes

Mars, about Zipper: They're speaking some kind of French. Nia: Let me handle it. I speak Spanish. It's the same thing.

Nia: Why did you guys dress up as each other for Halloween? Zipper: Mars is the scariest thing I could think of! Mars: Zipper told me I should pick the dumbest costume possible.

Nia: A sprite is anything not static. Mars: A sprite is a variable object, be it 2d or 3d. Zipper: A sprite is a fucking soda. Zipper: You god damn geekass bastards.

Rhys: What are you up to today? Zipper: Nothing. Rhys: But you did that yesterday! Zipper:I wasn’t finished.

Rhys: Croissants: dropped Zipper: Road: works ahead Nia: BBQ sauce: on my titties Moony: Shavacado: fre Alec: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead Ness: Ness: ...I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Zipper: Moony, what did you just do!? Zipper: I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem and I tackled it head on. Zipper: I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Mars, to the Squad: If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands! *silence* Mars: Damn, y’all depressed as fuck! Zipper: You didn’t clap either- Mars: SHUT UP!

Moony: How would you rate your pain? Alec: 0/10. Would not recommend

Moony: Are you a cuddler? Zipper: I'm a machine of death and destruction. Moony: Zipper: ...Yeah, I'm a cuddler.

Nia: Every time I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke. Moony: Okay, but what is updog? Rhys: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. Ness: No, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. Zipper: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden. Mars: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. Nia: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. Ness: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. Rhys: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. Moony: What’s a henway?? Nia: Oh, about five pounds.

Berry: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes

Berry: If I run and leap at Zipper, they will most certainly catch me in their arms. Berry, running towards Zipper: Coming in! Zipper: No! I’m holding coffee! Zipper: *Drops coffee and catches Berry*

Berry: It’s Pride Month, you know what that means! Zipper: I get to eat as many Skittles as I want? Berry: What? No! What has Rhys been telling you? Rhys, walking in, pouring Skittles into their mouth: Taste the rainbow, bitch.

Starring

Me as zipper

@moonyshifter as Moony

@shiftingwithmars as Mars

@realitycanbewhateveridesire as Ness

@theshifterbride as Nia

@alecrealityshifting as Alec

@xstrawberryshiftsx as Berry

@rhyswiththeshiftingzone as Rhys

[dandelion-wings]

Once upon a time @theabysscomeshome and I spun up a whole sci-fi AU for the Mondstadt characters, in which Kaeya is a particular alien species with 'cuckoo' abilities in which they can consume other species' genetic material and (partially) change shape to resemble them. And then @theabysscomeshome posited a particular scene that, for some reason, rose up from the back of my brain tonight when I wanted to write something short and cute. :>

---

Adelinde isn't a cook, but someone has to supervise the boys while they're in the kitchen. Especially when they're handling raw meat. Kaeya is quite good about the precautions necessary, but Diluc tends to be careless about washing up, either his hands or the surfaces, and Adelinde would rather be on hand with the saniwipes and a few gentle reminders now than have to deal with food poisoning later.

"I don't think that's going to be very good," Kaeya says, watching with fascinated interest as Diluc adds even more honey to the dish of expensive steak swimming in what Adelinde has to agree barely constitutes a marinade.

"It will be," Diluc says stubbornly. "Emile made chicken with all this stuff last week, and you liked it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I think he *measured* it. And that was chicken. This is... cow, right?"

"This is beef steak," Adelinde affirms. "Master Crepus is trying to order more variety for you, but none of the shipments have arrived yet."

Kaeya ducks his head. "He doesn't have to."

"If he can, why not let him?" Diluc asks. He sticks a knife into the steak and swirls it around impatiently in the marinade, frowning a little. "Maybe some of it will be stuff you can turn into. You can't turn into a cow, right?"

"They have too much mass. And quadruped body-plans aren't fun with tentacles. I don't have enough to hold myself steady if I split them four ways like that, and I have to stretch the space between them *really* far. It's like doing splits."

"Ow." Diluc grimaces.

So does Kaeya, and Adelinde smiles at how closely he mimics the expression. She doesn't know who might have contributed to the appearance he tends towards at home--a conventionally genemodded human, dark-skinned and blue-haired, much more slender and fineboned than the Ragnvindrs--but there's a slight similarity to them nonetheless. Something about the nose, and cheekbones, and temples. Had Master Crepus given him a bit of his blood, to bring him closer to the family? It's the sort of thing she could imagine him doing.

Turning back to his creation, Diluc frowns critically at the marinade--pinkish at the moment from the Gallian salt he'd added earlier, and darker now with the honey--and hops off his chair. "It needs more ginger," he tells Kaeya, turning to say it over his shoulder, and trips over the leg of the chair beside him.

He tumbles, instinctively flailing. Adelinde leaps just as instinctively to catch him. The knife slices deep into the meat of her palm.

She shrieks, fumbling for the knife as it slips free to fall towards the floor, not quite catching it as Diluc's weight slams into her. He yells too, surprise turning to alarm, scrambling up and trying to go for the knife himself. Kaeya ducks in and grabs it, tosses it clattering to the table.

"That looks like it hurts," he says, staring at Adelinde's hand with his one visible eye very wide, but otherwise looking entirely calm.

Diluc is panicking enough for the both of them. "Addie! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

"It's fine," Adelinde says, her voice unexpectedly calm to her own ears. She feels as if she's looking at the situation from some remove, the throbbing pain in her palm distant and faraway, everything at a remove as if she's underwater. "Go get a first aid kit, Diluc."

"I'm *sorry*," Diluc says again, miserably, and bolts out of the room.

Adelinde stares down at the cut on her palm a moment more, watching blood pulse from it, running down her wrist to soak her sleeve. It's quite deep, and that's quite a lot of blood. He'd been using the knife to poke the raw steaks, she remembers, and there were all those questionable foodstuffs in his mixture, so she'll need to clean it quite thoroughly, and then use a strong disinfectant. She takes a step towards the sink and feels herself sway.

"Here," Kaeya says, appearing at her elbow--her other elbow, conscientiously away from the blood. He pushes a clean towel into her uninjured hand. "Wrap it up."

"I need to wash it."

"There's enough blood to have flushed it out. Put the strongest grade of disinfectant in the kit on and you should be fine," Kaeya says, still very calm, with an expertise beyond his years. He reaches out, takes the towel back, and winds it quickly around her hand twice, twisting it tight. "There you are. Hold that in place."

"Thank you," Adelinde says, taking the ends where he's twisted them together.

"You should sit down," Kaeya adds, pushing her towards the chair Diluc had tripped over. "You look woozy."

"Thank you," Adelinde says again, as he pulls the chair out for her, and sits down.

Diluc is back moments later, banging into the doorframe as he rushes through, Master Crepus right on his heels. "I got the kit. Right here, Father, I cut her- it really was an accident!"

"You didn't cut me. It was my mistake."

"I was the one who tripped!"

"Now, now, let's not go assigning blame," Master Crepus says, gently, and pulls the other chair up, takes the kit from Diluc, and reaches for Adelinde's towel-wrapped hand. "You did well, Diluc. You and Kaeya go find the cook on duty and tell them we'll need this kitchen cleaned up, all right? They might need your help with it."

It's embarrassing to be fussed over by the master of the house himself, but he's clearly here to soothe Diluc, and Adelinde lets him unwrap her hand, setting the towel aside by the knife, and wipe it clean and apply disinfectant and liquid bandages in equal and excessive measure. By the time they're back with the night cook, she's all patched up, and Diluc is visibly calmed by seeing her so. Though the feeling of distance has eased, Adelinde is now absurdly tired for such a small affair; she can only smile, reassure him, and leave him and Kaeya to their father when she's kindly dismissed to go to bed. She leaves the clean-up behind for the boys to help with as a comforting penance.

It isn't until the next morning, when she wakes to her blood-soaked dress on the floor and guiltily takes it down to the laundry, that she thinks of that bloody towel again. It's sitting on the same shelf where she sets down her dress, for the human launderer to give personal attention. There's far less blood than she remembered when she set it aside, and the terrycloth is stiff and peaked, with little indents as if left by sharp teeth.

When she goes to collect the boys for their tutoring that morning, there's... *something* different about Kaeya's face. Very slightly. In the chin, she thinks. She doesn't ask, but when they pass a mirror in the hallway, she glances over to look at her own face in it. Then she looks down at him again, more clearly recognizing her own jawline.

"Thank you again for your help last night," she tells him.

He ducks his head again, mumbling at the floor, "I just wanted to help. Diluc was already getting the medkit. It would've been fine, probably, but you were in shock, so...."

Ah. Yes, that makes sense now. "I was, and I wouldn't have thought to sit down on my own, so you might have saved me from injuring myself further. I'm glad you were there."

"But...." He looks up at her sideways. "Diluc wouldn't have had the knife in the first place if he hadn't been trying to make something for me."

"I'm still glad you're here, Kaeya. We all care for you, you know." She smiles at him. "You're part of the family."

Straightening slowly, he smiles back, tentative and shy. There's a bit of her own smile in there now, along with a bit of Master Crepus' and Diluc's, along with whoever else he knew before he came here whom he loved enough to want to take on a little part of them. Adelinde is honored to be among them.

[asmobeuses]

𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨.

synopsis: Noir wasn't expecting a pretty thing like you drinking your woes away in a bar. Maybe he could keep you company?

Warnings: AFAB!reader (feminine terms such as lady, gal. inherently feminine compliments such as pretty,), infidelity, comfort to angst, drinking, cigarette smoking, obvious one-night stand (not written), suggestive, reader consents before they both continue to drink, probably OOC Noir, NOT PROOF READ. lmk if I missed anything <3

As late as it was, you found yourself wandering into a bar. Something, anything to get your mind off what you walked in on would do. You sat down and ordered some bourbon. Your eyes scanned the bar, seeing if you could find some eye candy to occupy your ever-racing mind. A certain patron in a long, collared coat fumbling around in his pocket caught your gaze.

“Fuck,” the unlit cigarette bobbed in his mouth with every word he spoke, “where’d it go? I swear to god it was just in my pocket.”

The man was conventionally attractive. He wasn't too scrawny, but not too muscular. His black hair in a neat swoop complimented his chiseled face and tall stature perfectly. 

“Lookin’ for something?” You called out in his direction, hoping he’d take notice of you.

Noir glanced at you, a small grin gracing his features. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ve misplaced my lighter.” He says, muffled. He pulls the cigarette out from his mouth before continuing. “You wouldn’t happen to have one on ya? It's been a long day and a smoke would be nice.”

You pulled out a lighter and a cigarette from the bottom of your purse. You motioned for him to come sit down.

He sat down and leaned in. “Well aren’t you a sweetheart?” The smile on his face told you that he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

You put the cigarette up to your lips and lit it, but instead of simply using the lighter for his, you leaned in closer, touching the end of your cigarette with his own. Your eyes were locked onto his the whole time, catching him off guard.

His eyes widened, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. He couldn’t help but feel appreciative of the proximity, even if it only lasted a little while. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke. 

“You sure know how to make a man feel lucky,” the grin on his face was laced with amusement, “what’s your name, darlin’?” He was eager to engage in conversation with you.

You chuckled at his question, deciding to play hard to get. "Ah, but revealing my name soooo soon would spoil all the fun, wouldn't it? You'll have to work a little harder to uncover that secret." Your voice carried a hint of a compelling challenge, inviting him to engage in the game of unraveling your mysteries.

He silently accepted her challenge. “Ah ah, two can play it that game,” he winked, “in that case, you can call me whatever you’d like.” His voice held a hint of suggestion. “Anyway, a pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t be here without some company. ‘S too dangerous. What brings you here? You look like you’re sulkin’.”

“Well handsome,” that was the name you chose for him, considering he was playing the same game you were, “ ‘M here because I don't wanna be at home right now.” Your vague words held a certain weight to them, but Noir looked at the wedding band you were fidgeting with on your finger and was able to put two and two together.

“Infidelity?” He inquired, expression turning soft.

“And with his boss. Now, ain’t that just comical?” You dryly laughed. You spoke with a bitter intonation, causing Noir to frown at your sorrow. He reached out, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. Nobody deserves to be treated that way,” his voice filled with uncut sympathy. “Y’know what? Sometimes a little distraction is okay, even when it's temporary. Hows about I keep you company for the night, help you forget about everything?”

His hand moved from your arm, but the intense eye contact remained. “I can't fix everything, but I can do enough to put that pretty smile back on your face, hm?”

You groaned, frustrated with everything. “Nothing would amount to his entrails being on the lawn right now.”

Despite how gruesome the remark was, he found himself captivated by your dark humor. He chuckled, “Killing may not be the best way to deal with this … tempting as it may sound.” His head rested on the back of his palm. “Let me be your distraction, take your mind off things,” he repeated, “we’ll have a few drinks, talk a little more, and who knows? Maybe we can even make your cheating husband regret putting someone as pretty as you through the betrayal. Pleasure is a wonderful diversion” His mischievous lilt caused your thoughts to dance around the appealing possibilities of this night’s end.

“Now now, I’m not an easy gal. I don't just lay with the first handsome man to say hi t’me. It’ll take a little more convincing than just empty promises.” you challenged his vows of pleasure.

His eyes sparkled as his voice dropped down, low and seductive. “I wouldn't expect anything less from a beauty as alluring as you. I’m not one to make empty promises. That’s something you can learn very quickly. I assure you, the pleasure I offer is far from empty. 

His finger made rounds around the rim of his glass, sending suggestive shivers down your spine.. “I aim to satisfy, in every sense of the word, but it’s no fun if I don't have to work for it.”

“Your confidence alone is almost enough.” You joked.

“My confidence isn’t all I have going for me,” he winked, “but I don't want you to give in too easily. I want to earn every moment. Let us savor the journey, and make tonight one neither of us will forget.”

You were beginning to grow flustered by his words. “Quite the charmer there, aren’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

His smile only grew more confident. “Why, thank you, dear. I do aim to please,” he replied, “but there's no need to be nervous. Just relax, allow me to show you a night of indulgence.” He flicked the rim of his glass, meeting your eyes with the sound of the clink. “Let me take care of you tonight. Let me make you feel things never before felt. I can assure you won't regret it.”

Your legs pressed together as you were lost in thought. After a few moments, you gently whispered, “I..may just take you up on that offer.”

His eyes flickered with a mixture of anticipation and satisfaction. He leaned in closer, voice laced with raw desire, “perfect..”

Your Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes following.

“Let’s head somewhere more private, yeah?”

You eagerly nodded and followed him out of the bar. He was making his way to the motel down the street. Once you arrived, he quickly paid for a room and led you to it. 

In a couple swift movements, the door was locked and his lips found purchase on your own, moving in sync. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you could only pray he didn’t hear it. He pulled away and began removing his coat, you could only stare at his body through the well-fitted collared shirt.

His eyes met your own and he looked as if he was in a trance. He grabbed you with a lustful urgency, one hand on your waist and the other in your hair. “It's like.. You have me under a spell. I can't resist those enchanting eyes of yours. I want to fulfill every one of your desires tonight.”

You gave him full control, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. Your voices mixed into a symphony of intimacy, swirling into the air around you, forming the most beautiful song. Noir’s eyes followed your body’s every movement, his intense gaze pushing you over the edge time and time again.

Coming down from your highs, you felt nothing but pure bliss. Though, as Noir held you, your mind began to wander to your husband. You knew what lay in store before you indulged in Noir, but you couldn't help but let the tears fall at his tenderness and attention. You began to crave him beyond sex. You thought about how your husband never looked at you the way Noir did, never took your well-being or satisfaction into account. He only craved what would benefit him and him alone.

Noir’s expression softened, his understanding of your feelings deepening. He gently wiped away the tears, his touch infused with empathy and care. “I see you, sweetheart. I see your needs, your desires, and I'm here to fulfill them. To show you the love and attention you deserve.” 

Noir embraced you as if to shield you from all the pain and neglect you had endured. He wanted to be the one to heal the wounds inflicted upon your heart and soul. He wanted to show you the genuine and unwavering kind of love. He understood the complexity of your emotions, the yearning for more than just physical intimacy. 

It was then, when Noir realized his encounter with you held more weight than just a simple, fleeting fling. The tightening of his hold on your trembling body was instantaneous when the comprehension of his heart’s desire came to fruition.

He fell in love, and it all happened in a single night.

“With me, you will always be prioritized, both in and out of the bedroom.” From that moment, Noir vowed to be the sanctuary you sought, the embodiment of love and passion that would wash away past wounds. He wanted to be the partner you deserved, to protect and cherish you, whether it be in moments of intense passion or tender silence.

"Thank you, Noir." As you sobbed into his chest, your words held some sadness to them, as you believed this would be the first and last time you saw him.

Noir held you tightly in his embrace, his heart aching at the sound of your sobs. He knew how bittersweet this interaction would become, and it only reinforced his determination to make this moment with you as meaningful as possible.

"You don't need to thank me, my dear," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. "I'm here for you, and I always will be. No matter what happens, you'll always have a place in my heart."

In that moment, he wished he could offer you more, wish he could mend the brokenness in your life and give you the love and happiness you deserve. But he understood the complexities of the situation, the circumstance that kept you apart.

Noir cradled you gently, his touch offering solace and comfort amidst the turmoil of emotions. He cherished this moment, knowing that it was fleeting, yet forever etched in his heart.

"You deserve so much happiness," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "Don't settle for anythin’ less. No matter where life takes us, always remember the love we shared in this moment."

With a final tender kiss, Noir held you close, silently promising to cherish the memory of your time together and hoping that one day, fate would grant you both the opportunity to find happiness in each other's arms once more.

You fought your drowsiness, not wanting this moment to end. Unfortunately, you lost, succumbing to the wishful embrace of slumber.

Though, the love you felt rivaled that of any other.

Noir woke up the next morning to find himself alone in the bed, his senses immediately alert to the absence of your presence. As he looked around, he noticed the emptiness of the space beside him, the sheets that were devoid of the warmth he somehow grew accustomed to in one night.

A mixture of longing and a bittersweet ache filled his heart, knowing that this encounter was meant to be just a fleeting moment in time. He couldn't help the tinge of sadness that settled in, his thoughts filled with memories of the passionate night you had shared.

As his gaze fell upon his wrist, Noir's lips curled into a tender smile. There, in a sweet and simple gesture, was evidence of your presence, a lipstick mark left behind—brown and distinct. A loving reminder of the connection you had forged.

He gently touched the mark with his fingertips, cherishing the moment captured within its staining color. It spoke volumes, a testament to the intimacy shared, the vulnerability and passion that had filled the night.

Knowing that nothing lasts forever, Noir held onto the memory of your time together, the way you had touched his heart, and the love that had surged between you. He vowed to carry this experience with him always, a cherished chapter in his life.

With the bittersweet taste of farewell lingering in his heart, Noir showed one last smile toward the lipstick mark on his wrist. It was a farewell, but also a silent promise to treasure the mark you left on his soul, forever grateful for the love and connection you shared, even if it was just for one unforgettable night.

ok so. hi!!! this has been in my drafts unfinished since summer so my hyperfixation on the Spiderverse has kinda died, so i wont be writing for the SV for a good while. it'll prob be back with the release of Beyond the Spiderverse. BUTTTTTTT im fixated on blue lock and Jujutsu Kaisen rn so i may write a little for those.

uhh requests open hmm idk what else i should add here

oh also the title is the link to the song i listened to during the making of this

M.list <— if you enjoy my silly works, I have more here!

[deancaspinefest]

r/Relationships

Author: prosopopeya & marbleflan | Artist: Alexiescherryslurpy Posting on Saturday March 18

I swear I'm a straight dude, kind of a ladies' man if I'm honest. I'm the love 'em and leave 'em type–maybe that's why I never bothered to get my ex gf (37F)'s last name… or her marital status. We were in the middle of a horizontal tango session, if you know what I mean, when her husband (37M, straight??) walks in. I've never looked twice at a man, but he's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, male or female. Even though he met me when I was getting naked with his wife, he never held it against me. They got divorced and somehow he became my best friend. He even let me move in with him when my pipes burst (not a euphemism) and I had nowhere to go. I think I might be in love with him. Is it possible to be straight all your life but gay for just one guy? Sometimes I think he might be into me as well, but then I think it's just 'cause he's kind of a weird dude. When I look at him, it feels like a hurricane inside me, like I'll burst if I don't kiss him. TLDR: Wondering if asking the guy (whose marriage I ruined) out is a good idea.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

"Where did you guys meet again?" "Oh, um. Through work." It's technically not not true... if you follow six degrees of separation rules. "I think you'd like him. He's funny-- Not like, conventionally funny, I guess, but he's got his own kind of sense of humor that kind of catches you off guard." His phone buzzes again, loud against the counter, and Sam cuts his eyes over to look at it. Dean slides it off the counter to slip it into his pocket. "He's going through a divorce," he blurts, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. "And he's just-- It's an adjustment, you know? He just really needs a friend right now." More true than his previous partial truth; in fact, that statement is objectively a true one, and it's Dean who's having trouble (apparently?) with parts of it. "Do you need to answer him then?" Sam asks, his tone softening, and Dean imperceptibly relaxes. "Oh, no, he's just elbow-deep into Dr. Sexy after I told him to check it out." Sam rolls his eyes again, laughing this time though, and he goes back to his nachos. "Are you sure being friends with you is the right move, if that's what you get him into?" "Come on, it's perfect breakup watching." "It's the TV equivalent of eating a pint of ice cream so I guess you're not wrong. So, are you helping him rebound?" Dean swallows his beer the wrong way and chokes. "What?" "You've been hanging out a lot." They've been out a handful of times at the Roadhouse, and Dean thinks that shouldn't count as a lot. "Not really sure that's where he's at," Dean says, mostly to the nachos. "Anyway, he wouldn't need my help." "No?" Sam prompts, sounding amused. "No way. He's got this approachable sorta hotness, you know, like he doesn't even realize it, and he dresses like a lump so it catches you by surprise." "Are you sure you're not dating him?" Dean's eyes snap up to find Sam smiling, the joke written all over his face, the picture of disbelief that his macho brother could possibly do something like that. "What?" "'Cas is so funny and hot,'" he teases, shaking out his hair. Sometimes, Dean thinks clearest through the panic, and this feels like one of those times when he throws a chip at Sam. "A good wingman knows how to sell," he says, and watches Sam laugh that one off too, leaning back down to eat his food. Dean's phone buzzes in his pocket. He pokes around at his nachos some more, but suddenly nacho night doesn't seem as appetizing as it did before.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Saturday March 18]

[rosesradio]

may i ask why ppl hate caleo so much? I'm reading ToA rn so idk if it's based on stuff that happens there, but in HoO I didn't really catch anything that would make it this "don't touch with a ten foot pole" ship, yk?

/gen

Hi !! Thanks for sending this in. I feel like I and others have kinda gone through some things in the anti-caleo tag, but I'm gonna go through some of the reasons with as much textual evidence and objectivity as possible. (minus my inevitable unorganized rambles, they're contextually relevant, stop looking at me--)

That being said, this is completely a matter of opinion, as all shipping is. I don't mean to say that you are "allowed" to ship or that you're "stupid" for shipping xyz, I couldn't care less what you ship--let's all just be nice to each other.

That being said, let's start with the two most common reasons why most people dislike caleo:

1.) the age gap

2.) their "bickering to lovers" dynamic is not written well/they seem to dislike each other/etc

The easier one to start with would be the age gap. Now (warnings for rent-lowering gunshots around my blog), I meant what I said when I said I don't care about ships. Most of my beloved mutuals ship the nastiest shit imaginable, and I am very anti-censorship (but that's several other posts). I generally have preferences for healthy ships when it comes to a Fluffy Endgame (dark fics with toxic ships are different to me).

That being said, I don't typically enjoy ships with a large age gap, and most other people find them unappealing as well. I could be persuaded with some (nipollo and rachel/apollo, i'm looking at you), but caleo just kinda grosses me out in this regard, probably due to other aspects of their relationship.

(Some people say she's "mentally fifteen", but I don't really buy that--if she were like a faerie or something, maybe, but I see her more as Edward in Twilight--looks young but has wisdom beyond her years. There's no definitive answer on this so it's not something I would like to debate (none of this is lol) but I thought I would mention it anyways.)

Although your question is about ToA, I'm only going to cover HoH through the first ToA book, because I'm still reading through the ToA books (though I know the big spoilers). I know caleo takes on a bigger role in the second book so i might come back and do a part two to uh...complain about their dynamic more? lol

so, without further ado--

The House of Hades

So, this is the first impression we get of Calypso from Leo's perspective--the highlights to keep this from being 1 million years long (it still will be lol)--

"She looked maybe fifteen, about Leo's age, and, sure, she was pretty; but with that angry expression on herface she reminded Leo of every popular girl in every school he'd ever attended—the ones who made fun of him, gossiped a lot, thought they were so superior, and basically did everything they could tomake his life miserable.Leo disliked her instantly.

---

The girl clenched her fists. Leo was pretty sure she was going to march down the crater and punch him in the face.

---

"Show yourself!" the girl yelled at the sky, completely ignoring Leo. "It's not bad enough I am exiled? It's not bad enough you take away the few good heroes I'm allowed to meet? You think it's funny to send me this—this charbroiled runt of a boy to ruin my tranquility? This is NOT FUNNY! Take him back!""

--pg 213 of The House of Hades pdf.

Now, keeping in mind that I read this for the first time at 13 and he was my book boyfriend (Or Whatever), I was not a fan of this, but even now that I've grown out of that, this still rings unfavorable to me.

He compares her to his bullies, the ones who made fun of him and created insecurities within him. And, making no effort to clear her name from this association, what is one of the first things she does? Screams at the gods for sending someone so conventionally unattractive. One of Leo's biggest insecurities in the books is not being as conventionally attractive or built as the other guys in the seven. One of his other insecurities is not having a girlfriend when everyone else is coupled up. So the solution is not to have him learn self-love and/or the love of friends, but to instead give him a girlfriend--the build-up time of which is short and intense. Not only that, but his love interest insults one of his biggest insecurities.

We're off to a great start.

Of course, I can't really blame Calypso for being pissed about the wreckage and about being sent another hero instead of being freed from the island. I would be pretty pissed, too, but she still treats him pretty badly, seemingly because he's not the "right" hero.

(For this next bit I am going through their time together in House of Hades and just noting anything that rings as a red flag to me--which is not a stretch as it's pretty much every other line lol. The brackets [] add context for dialogue, the parentheses () is my commentary, though most of these speak for themselves imo)

""Oh-gee-gee-ah." The girl pronounced it slowly, as if Leo were five years old.

---

She looked like she was about to answer but stopped herself. "It doesn't matter. You'll be gone soon. You're obviously a mistake."

That was harsh, Leo thought.He'd spent enough time thinking he was a mistake—as a demigod, on this quest, in life in general. He didn't need a random crazy goddess reinforcing the idea

---

"What am I supposed to do, then? Sit in the sand dunes until I die?" [Leo asked]

"That would be fine...." The girl threw down her trowel and cursed at the sky. "Except I suppose he can't die here, can he? Zeus! This is not funny!"

---

She looked the same age as him, but he wondered how old she really was. (age gap thing, delicious!)

---

"Would you be sweet," [Calypso said], "if they laughed at you by sending another hero, but a hero who looked like—like you?"

---

"Three thousand." Leo's mouth felt tingly, like he'd just eaten Pop Rocks. "Uh, you look good for three thousand."

---

"And now...the worst insult of all. The gods mock me by sending you." [Calypso said]

Anger bubbled in Leo's stomach.Yeah, typical. If Jason were here, Calypso would fall all over him. She'd beg him to stay, but he'd be all noble about returning to his duties, and he'd leave Calypso brokenhearted. That magic raft would totally arrive for him. (heartbreaking to hear about leo's insecurities but also...he is so gay for jason jdskjfs--)

But Leo? He was the annoying guest she couldn't get rid of. She'd never fall for him, because she was totally out of his league.

---

Despite the gifts, Calypso obviously didn't want to see him. One time he poked his head inside the cave and she freaked out, yelling and throwing pots at his head. (how to treat an abuse survivor 101)

Yeah, she was definitely on Team Leo. (this honestly just reminds me of the Echo scene and, honestly, I'd ship him with Echo Big Time over calypso)

He ended up pitching a more permanent camp near the footpath, where the beach met the hills.That way he was close enough to pick up his meals, but Calypso didn't have to see him and go into a pot-throwing rage.

---

"They are completely fireproof," Calypso promised. "They'll stay clean and expand to fit you,should you ever become less scrawny." (the prev part about her repairing the clothes was actually sweet in a platonic way...could have gone without the body-shaming !)

---

Then he remembered that this annoying fifteen-year-old girl was actually the immortal daughter of a Titan."

--pages 214-227 of The House of Hades pdf

Now, at this point I'll say that their relationship actually becomes quite sweet once they get past the frankly horrible section of time where they want each other to die. They're both lonely, they come to some understanding...I suppose this is a matter of opinion, but the romance aspect does feel forced. Time is different in Ogygia so it's hard to say how long Leo was there, if I were to estimate I'd say 3 weeks, but given that it's like 19 pages (and the text is larger on the pdf copy lol), it does feel rushed. Man do I wish they went for the platonic angle, but Richard could never.

The Blood of Olympus

Everyone's favorite book! lmao.

Now that our lovebirds are in Lovebird Territory (i guess), the amount of toxicity dwindles, but let's bite:

"'Sit tight, Sunshine,' he told Calypso's picture. 'I'll get back to you, just like I promised.'

Leo could imagine her response: 'I am not waiting for you, Leo Valdez. I am not in love with you.And I certainly don't believe your foolish promises!' The thought made him smile. (I guess this is supposed to be sarcastic, but way to reintroduce the concept of her really not liking him?)"

--pg 64 of The Blood of Olympus pdf

So, most of this book has mentions of Calypso from Leo's pov, and I gotta say (forgetting entirely that this doc is supposed to at least try to be subjective)...they neutered my boy. I often don't reread past MoA because of the caleo content, though what glimpses I've seen shows that his pov has experienced a massive shift. I think having so little page time and such an intense relationship buildup causes some readers to dislike how fundamentally she alters Leo's pov.

Additionally, I've seen some posts about Leo's suicide ideation. That is not something I want to go in depth about on this post, but I did want to draw attention to this excerpt I caught:

"Now the Argo II was approaching the end of its voyage. Leo's whole life – his childhood with Tía Callida; his mother's death in that warehouse fire; his years as a foster kid; his months at Camp Half-Blood with Jason and Piper – all of it would culminate tomorrow morning in one final battle.

He opened the access panel. Festus's voice creaked over the intercom.

'Yeah, buddy,' Leo agreed. 'It's time.'

More creaking.

'I know,' Leo said. 'Together till the end?'

Festus squeaked affirmatively.

Leo checked the ancient bronze astrolabe, which was now fitted with the crystal from Ogygia. Leo could only hope it would work.

'I will get back to you, Calypso,' he muttered. 'I promised on the River Styx.'

He flipped a switch and brought the navigation device online. He set the timer for twenty-four hours.

Finally he opened the engine's ventilator line and pushed inside the vial of the physician's cure. It disappeared into the veins of the ship with a decisive thunk.

'Too late to turn back now,' Leo said.

He curled on the floor and closed his eyes, determined to enjoy the familiar hum of the engine for one last night."

--pg 224 of The Blood of Olympus pdf

I'm not going to draw any definitive conclusions on the subtext of this or his plan with the physician's cure, but I will say Leo definitely needs therapy and the support of his friends over his want of a girlfriend. (And I'd say this regardless of ships--even if it were my beloved valdangelo. If Leo's mental health isn't addressed, it just makes it seem like a lazy fix-all)

I'm not going to pretend to be the best writer or understand character arcs better than our good friend Richard, but I think one of the reasons why Leo's character arc failed in this final installment is that Leo got what he wanted instead of what he needed. The best character arcs will display what a character wants, but by the end of the journey, a character will realize what they really need.

For example, in Gravity Falls (great show btw), towards the end of the series, Mabel wants to stay in a magical bubble created as a trick by Bill Cipher so she can stay in Gravity Falls forever. In the end, however, she realizes that what she really needs is to go back home to California with her brother, where they can get through high school with the support of each other.

If Leo had undergone an arc in which he really wants a girlfriend, but later realizes he needs to love himself first, that would have been really great and nice for kids to see that they don't need a significant other to make them whole.

Additionally--surprisingly--there were no glaring red flags for the rest of this book. They have a general vibe of "she doesn't really like him and he's a silly little guy" that I feel like is just rick pulling a "can I copy your homework?" with percabeth but it came out Wrong, but that's a matter of opinion.

ToA: The Hidden Oracle

""Here you go." Leo handed her a glass of lemonade. His expression seemed darker and more anxious, as if...Ah, of course. Leo had rescued Calypso from her prison island. In doing so, Calypso had lost her powers. Leo felt responsible."

--pg 239 of The Hidden Oracle pdf

This seems like something they'd have to work through, which is possible, but also a very intense thing to put on a relationship between an already traumatized 16 year old (and his over 3000 year old girlfriend, etc.) I suppose if this was written through in a thoughtful way I'd understand, but it's kind of one of those things that makes me look at them and go...realistically, at best I see them lasting 6 months to a year.

(tbh a lot of the ships outside of percabeth don't seem to have that...well, percabeth longevity--i mean just look at how jiper broke up. not that Richard would break caleo up atp, of course...unless...)

Final Thoughts (unless I return after finishing ToA but no promises)

And so, we conclude. I think I learned some stuff by revisiting canon instead of just remaining amongst online fandom & my memory of canon. Honestly, I can see why people would like this ship--I still hate it the most out of any pjo ship, but I gotta admit it had its sweet moments. Just as I pointed out red flags and had opinions stated as subjective, other people could point out what they consider green flags and why they think the ship is great.

To conclude (my English teachers quaking in their boots rn), myself and other caleo haters dislike the ship due to the age difference, the rushed nature, and the enemies to lovers dynamic being written in a way that ultimately gives the energy that our love birds do not like each other. I hope this dive into the foundation of their relationship clarifies some of these things for you, and thanks for the ask!

[httpiastri]

COLLEGE!PAUL HAS ME PACING AROUND IN CIRCLES ‼️‼️ HE'S SO 'SO HIGH SCHOOL' CODED IT HURTS

Ok ok so LET ME COOK ✋👩‍🍳

imagine a stem/medicine major who's like super shy and introverted getting pulled into a party unwillingly by her friends and you retreat to a corner and SURPRISE ITS COLLEGE!PAUL and she's just like "wtf??? shouldn't you be outside with the girls?????" and he literally could not give two shits about this party because he was also dragged into it 😭 he immediately went to a corner to isolate himself from the chaos until he meets YOU and he's immediately like "oh shit, she's really pretty" BUT IT DOESNT GO SMOOTHLY 😭

a little bit of miscommunication and character flaw makes you have a prejudice against Paul because he gives off the conventionally attractive playboy jock vibes and you avoid those kinds of people with YOUR ENTIRE BEING so you dislike him off the bat and he is intrigued by you yet somehow has the social skills of a carrot 😰 shenanigans happen (maybe you both have the same general education class or club) and he tries to impress you yet somehow EVERYTHING GOES WRONGG because he literally does not know anything except how to ball 😭 so you begrudgingly help him until you also slowly fall for him and catch yourself falling for him and go "OH NO I FELL FOR A JOCK" which goes against every principal you have but he's somehow so endearing and also so relatable at the same time.

like he's the complete polar opposite in all of his skills and talents yet he's nearly exactly the same with preferences, he's shy, not really that talkative and he'd totally be chill sitting in silence for hours with you just studying and him basking in your presence

the grand reveal would be so wholesome and fluffy because you'd never expect him to fall for anyone but you but he'd say something like "it's always been you" and AAAAAAAAAA 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

tl;dr I love college/jock!paul so much it hurts

- ☄️

oh my goddddd you really did cook with this one 🤭 college!paul is such a loveable mess... and i love love the whole opposites attract trope (though ik you wrote abt the reader being shy and introverted too so its not the exact same but still) and especially when it comes to paul being more shy/gentle than you'd expect. and then the miscommunication 🥲 *chefs kiss*

paul also being dragged along to the party is so funny 😭 he really is the "just let me do my sport and then go home and chill" dude – until he meets her... bcs suddenly he's more intrigued and wants to see her in the dining hall etc... not that he actually knows that to do when he does see her lmao 😭 ("yet somehow has the social skills of a carrot" KILLED ME) but yes definitely, imagine having a study session together and he's like "yes this is my chance. i need to get to know her/ask her out/anything" and he just. freezes. and for some reason you even find him endearing?? like usually you hate all things jock/frat/etc but paul is so ???? and it takes some time but you finally begin to break down his guard little by little.....

and "it's always been you" killed me again 😭 bestie my tears are on you

[o-chunks-appreciation]

I would like to hear your in-depth thoughts on O'Chunks, Count Bleck, and Super Paper Mario as a whole!

Woah this is just gonna be a big ramble on how much I love the game and why.

I’m gonna start with Super Paper Mario as a whole, I’m a really big fan and I have been since maybe around 2016 or so. I was vaguely aware of it as a kid but after watching a cosplay chess (its where you get a bunch of cosplayers to roleplay and they’re on a big chessboard and they act out in character to defeat each other until there’s a winner or sometimes even a subversion of plot) video that had a Dimentio cosplayer in it I decided to look into the game. By that point I was no stranger to jester characters, I used to rewatch the Marx fight from Kirby Super Star Ultra all of the time so I was immediately going through SPM play throughs, fanfic, fanart. It’s a game I seem to be thinking about all of the time for months and years on end without a break lol. It admittedly catches my attention more than the other Paper Mario games, I’m not sure why, perhaps because it’s so visually different in aesthetic and character design. I enjoy its silly moments and it’s dramatic lore, but I also have a very specific issue with some parts of the lore being vague in Carson’s stories specifically. He’s always ending his stories in a question or talking about how much of a mystery these stories are. Maybe it’s on purpose and maybe this is also wishful thinking on my end, but sometimes I theorize that maybe they were going to reuse some of SPM’s lore for another game. I uhhh can’t say much about the game play because I’ve been enjoying SPM through play throughs.

On to O’ Chunks!

I think he’s in last place in terms of fandom popularity in terms of the Castle Bleck cast. Honestly I sort of get it, he’s not conventionally attractive and most artists sort of struggle with drawing older, bald, and bearded characters. Especially back in 2007 when the game was released when the anime art style was very popular on Deviantart. You could turn everyone else in castle bleck into a cutesy attractive anime character since their designs are just vaguely human enough for you to make your own little interpretations but with O’ Chunks you can clearly see he has a very human design so you can’t really make a Gijinka of him like you could the others. I think there’s something cool yet funny about that though, like he’s some unchanging force throughout everyone’s interpretation of the cast. (But I think it would be really cool as well to see people stray from his main design and interpret his design in the same way people would the rest of castle bleck)

He’s played off as sort of a joke character and then you read up on Carson’s stories of him and then it’s all like Woahh this is the same dude we’re talking about?? Funny characters that are secretly tragic is a trope I really like.

I think it’s really silly how everyone plays into his “chunking” catchphrases like Count Bleck saying: "Very well, O'Chunks. I'll leave the hero-chunking to you. Do not fail Count Bleck." Or Dimentio saying: "Mmm... I do enjoy a good chunking...", it’s really fun that the other characters are willing to hype up O’ Chunk’s catchphrases.

Also I think everyone sort of just glossed over the fact O’ Chunks was begging to die because he didn’t want to go back to Count Bleck and tell him he got defeated for the second time and only changed his mind after Dimentio shows up and talks a bit and afterwards he’s all like: “yeah I wouldn’t kill myself unless the count told me to.”

In conclusion he’s a really cool and underrated character and I like him a lot!! (If you couldn’t already tell by the blog theme and name lol)

Finally on to Count Bleck!

Wahhhh I love his lore and story it’s sooo bittersweet I want to fall to my knees dramatically anytime I think of it. He definitely seems like the type of guy that thought he didn’t care about his crew and everything they’re all doing was purely business because he’s just so caught up in his whole depressive world ending shenanigans that by chapter 8 he’s sort of surprised that he likes his minions as much as they do.

He’s still very much a bad guy, wiping out whole worlds and also lying to his very loyal group about making a way cooler world afterwards, and also on top of that even manipulating some of his minions unfortunate circumstances to get them on his team. (I.E: O’ Chunks) but I will let it slide this time because he’s a cool character to me.

All the memory sections of the game are so cute until it hits chapter six and then it’s like….ouch my feelings. He was mourning her so bad he would’ve unknowingly killed her if he’d succeeded, damn. But he didn’t so they got their nice little happy ending, and they’re just so cute together yaayyy!! (I’m in love with the picture of them under the tree at the end of the credits and I totally start to tear up when I see it with the credits music)

He’s a really interesting character and I can’t find myself finding another Mario character that inflicts this same emotions his lore gave me.