#sorry this is quite long but I hope its a fun read!! ;v;

[otomotoelzhinee]

I love your comics shreebs very much. Well here my question.

Who was the first to confess his love for each other? shrike or beebs?

Thank you so much!! Gosh, this one I left pending for a while, very sorry about that.

This one has been hard to figure out for me, as I think both characters have a likely chance to confess their feelings for the other:

None.

For as friendly as they are with one another, I find it difficult Shrike would ever tell Beebs about his feelings towards him, which seems obvious as he avoids being vulnerable with others. He's the one most likely to withhold info from Beebs or even lie if necessary. (Not out of maliciousness necessarily, but out of a selfish desire to preserve himself, or even just avoid being made a fool out of.)

But so could Beebs, as there's many things he hasn't told Shrike about his past. I feel that, in Beebs' case, although he trusts Shrike for many things, he also can't quite trust him for others. He still tries to give him the chance to prove himself, but there's a certain fear of that trust being broken over Shrike's inability to control his own impulses and being... Well, not really emotionally intelligent.

There's also the awkwardness of falling in love with someone who's not just a friend, but a business partner. "What if things become strange if I tell the truth, but he doesn't feel the same? Will we be able to go back to normal? Will he think differently of me?"

Change is a scary thing, even in small ways!

Of course, ideally, they both like eachother. But they don't actually know what the other feels.

If Shrike were to confess, the only possible scenario I can imagine is him being drunk out of his mind. Yeah, it's that old trope~

I feel that Beebs probably doesn't think highly of himself, so in a random conversation with a couple of drinks, they start to open up just a bit with eachother. Beebs would feel embarrassed saying he doesn't think he's that attractive, that he can't see himself being liked by someone else.

To which Shrike beings a long, almost nonsensical ramble, not really thinking about his words or how to articulate them.

"Nonono, no Beebs, listen. Listen-- HIC! Bee... You are, SO beautiful, amigo...Ur like, REALLY handsom' an'-- an' tall... An' real nice! And..."

He makes random gestures with his hands before pointing out Beebs in his entirely. "Well y-your such a good guy too, damn it!"

Beebs laughs at this, but Shrike only grows more frustrated, crawling his way over Beebs and getting closer has his rant continues.

"Look, look. When I see u. I see this guy... This nice guy doing his damn best! ...To do da right thing... You are annoyingly nice about it!! You're too kind! And so--" Another hiccup. "S-strong! Th-There's so much about you to love!!"

He grabs Beebs face, with Beebs continuing to laugh at Shrike seemingly so angry over the subject.

"Fine, fine!" Beebs goes. "I get it!"

"No! No quiero escuchar esa mierda...Salir de tu boca otra vez. Okay?"

Beebs nods.

"I love you a lot, man. Donchu know?"

"D'aw, yeah." Beebs replied. "I love you too, man."

"No, no, no..." Shrike's head falls on Beebs shoulder.

Beebs chuckles and pats Shrike's back, reassuring him again that he means it. But he stays there for a little bit, and Beebs just let's him be.

Until Shrike pulls away with a weak grasp, and looks at Beebs in the eyes again.

"I don't..." He mumbles.

"...Say that..." Something, something.

"...Cuz I..."

Beebs calls for him, confused as he realizes Shrike's trembling arms over him.

But before he can put together what's going on, Shrike puts his hands to squeeze his face again, and Beebs heart starts to race with Shrike only getting closer by the second.

"...What's going on."

And just as that thought crosses his mind, Shrike falls on his other shoulder, a long and strenuous snore coming out.

But Beebs stays there, his legs, his arms, his heart, all numb. He can't even tell if he's breathing anymore.

It takes him a couple of minutes, until he looks down at Shrike, completely gone.

He'd take him back to his bedroom, clean after their mess, walk around the place. But nothing is gonna help him release these thoughts, all these questions of what just happened. And more importantly, what will he choose to do about them.

I don't think Shrike would remember anything the next morning, but here it depends on Beebs if he will bring up the situation to Shrike. Or if he will let it pass as another one of Shrike's antics because of the alcohol.

If Beebs can trust Shrike enough to discuss something like this with him, then I'd like to think they would have an honest conversation.

One where Shrike might try to deny everything at first, but Beebs would push him to stop running away from it. And with no other choice, Shrike faces his friend and comes clean.

And with that, so would Beebs.

I also think there's other situations where Beebs could be driven to confess to Shrike, but I think part of me finds it more satisfying having Shrike facing Beebs and being vulnerable.

Probably a first for him, but it gives him an opportunity to trust Beebs, that he can trust someone, despite what his fears tell him. And by extention, so can Beebs. Finding someone to believe in again, to love, even.

[scaranation]

Hey I ADORE UR WRITING...SENDING ALL LOVES TO U... btw can u write a headcanon about how alhaitham or zhongli or wanderer would react to a really short fiesty y/n?

THIS IS V LATE IM SO SORRY HAHA anyway im alive now so I finally finished the prompt ! i interpreted it romantically by accident but I hope you like it anyway ehehe

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

ft. Alhaitham, Zhongli, Wanderer

Content: Fluff, headcannons, it's all enemies to lovers, Scara's part is a little short but so is he 🤭

a/n - ignore the spam e's at the end tumblr kept deleting my last paragraph whenever i tried to edit so i got mad and made sure the only thing i'd lose were the 3847394 e's i typed

ALHAITHAM

At first, he couldn’t ever see himself falling for someone like you. And if he were to date you, he’d definitely have to fall quite far - after all, you were so short, he practically had to trip over himself in squatting to talk to you. What you lacked in height, however, was made up by temper.

The first time Alhaitham had met you, he was very much taken aback by your personality. Instantly, he categorised you as the irritating, distracting type, filing away your existence in his brain as he droned out the sound of your voice.

“Grand Sage! I’m here to get approval for my research paper, and-”

“Acting Grand Sage.” Alhaitham corrected you without even looking up from his desk. Your words didn’t even register to him, as he left the interaction to his subconscious as to save his own energy.

“Acting Grand Scribe, whatever. Anyway, here’s my thesis, can you look over it now?”

“The approval process takes a few days, you can leave it here.”

“Oh, okay! Thank you, Grand Sage!” You chirped, scurrying off before Alhaitham could point out your error again. He spared a cursory glance towards the paper you’d left on his desk, raising an eyebrow.

“Height: an in-depth study into the role of genetics versus upbringing in contributing to an individual’s vertical stature.”

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise, and the premise of your project lacked nuance. He idly flipped through the pages, already preparing to reject it.

"This project will feature an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban who struggles with height in order to establish a deeper understanding... Hm. Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We've seen countless projects like this before." Alhaitham mused, stamping the front cover with bright red rejection and putting the paper aside.

It wasn’t long before Alhaitham found you at his office once again. However, you’d shed any semblance of politeness you’d had before, only fuming as you marched right up to his desk and demanded an explanation for the rejection of your research project.

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a thesis like this. The Akademiya needs not waste its resources on previously covered topics, hence I suggest you find a scholarly pursuit more worthy of your time.” You clenched your hands into fists at the irritating way the Acting Grand Sage didn’t even glance at you, his eyes still darting over the paper he was currently reading.

“What’s so interesting about what you’re reading now, then?” You snapped, slamming both hands on the hard wood of the desk. Your arms faltered a little as pain shot up from the impact. You tried to bite back a wince, but Alhaitham noticed. He had to fight to keep an amused smirk down as he finally looked up at you.

“This? It’s a study into the applicability of natural selection in society. Of course, it fuels some questionable - and incorrect - ideals, but it has piqued my interest. Rest assured that it will also be rejected.” Alhaitham’s tone was condescending, and it only made you more frustrated.

“Why are you invalidating my experiment?”

“Don’t take this so personally, I have nothing against you as an individual.” The Acting Grand Sage chuckled. Your demeanour reminded him of a fiery chipmunk, and he tuned out the sound of your incessant rambling.

Even your cheeks looked like a chipmunk’s. How fun it would be, to squish them…

“Hey, what are you doing?” You were jerked out of your spiel by the touch of Alhaitham’s hand on your cheek. Some fingers were gloved, others bare - it made a curious contrast, the rough leather juxtaposing smooth skin.

“My apologies, you had something on your cheek. You may continue your futile self justification now.” Alhaitham retracted his hand to go back to studying the paper.

“This… this won’t be the end!” You exclaimed. You sounded rather like a villain one would find in a children’s novel, except Alhaitham doubted there was a villain as small and as harmless as you.

“I look forward to your future endeavours.” Alhaitham quirked a wry smile at seeing you scuttle off furiously.

You were right - this wasn’t the end. You’d unfortunately piqued the Acting Grand Sage’s interest, and once that happened, there was no way out.

You’d find yourself bumping into Alhaitham more often after that incident. Who knew the Acting Sage even left his office? Wherever you went, he’d be there, presumably to make your life harder.

It sounds cliche, but he would definitely help you out with reaching books just beyond the range of your flailing hands. Of course, he’d read the title and criticise your choice of literature before handing it to you, but Alhaitham would be of aid nonetheless.

He’d make blunt remarks to rile you up, enjoying the sight of you flushing in anger. You were so short, yet so energetic - he often wondered how it was possible for you to be so endearing and irritating at the same time.

Sometimes, your brutish comments would get through to Alhaitham, and you’d have the pleasure of seeing his jaw flex in discomfort before he snapped back with something equally personal. Neither of you were ever willing to let the other have the last word.

You often wondered how you’d gotten close to the cold Acting Sage. He was feared amongst all other scholars for his meticulousness, and yet he seemed fine with engaging in banter with you. It was a shocking but typical sight to see you with him in the halls of the Akademiya, the almost comical height difference drawing scoffs from witnesses. A quick glare from Alhaitham would be enough to silence those snickers, however. After all, he was the only one who could tease you, and you, him.

ZHONGLI

You’d first meet Zhongli through attempting to scam him. Most people would wonder why you were trying to swindle the god of contracts himself, but to be fair, you didn’t know who he was - and you were an absolute genius at robbing people with honeyed lies. How were you supposed to know you’d bitten off more than you could chew?

The day had begun normally, with you merely making your normal (fraudulent) sales. You’d make glorious promises of a newly discovered vein of ores in the Chasm, painting pictures of abundant wealth. Then, you’d convince those poor customers to buy stakes in the mine for a ridiculous price, although they were really only buying a shoddy patch of dirt you owned in the Sumeru-Liyue border. You’d managed to slip under the radar as you technically hadn’t done anything illegal, only omitted some key details.

After all, you only said that there was a “strong possibility” that there would be valuable ores there. And you were right - there were iron chunks. And they were valuable… in some perspectives. Either way, you didn’t know much about what was legal and what wasn’t (your only knowledge came from your time attending school with Yanfei) but it was good, not-so-honest work. The devil’s in the details, as they say, and nobody reads the poorly written fine print on the contracts you made anyway.

Until Zhongli came along.

“May I ask the whereabouts of this place?” The man exuded wealth, from his deep voice to his elegantly refined attire. Your eyes sparkled. If you could pull this off, the rewards would be great.

“It’s in the Chasm.”

“Ah, you already mentioned that, but where exactly in the Chasm?”

“Around the Western side, near the Sumeru border.”

“Hm, how fascinating. I don’t recall any developments being made in that area.” Zhongli murmured.

“It’s being kept a secret, because of how valuable it is… Of course you understand how important confidentiality is to such a project, right?”

“What confidentiality is there to uphold if you’re blandly advertising it in the middle of Liyue Harbour?”

You were stunned into silence, mouth hanging open. It was there that you noticed the knowing gleam in his eyes, the quirk of his lips in a shrewd smirk.

“… Please don’t report me. I will atone for my sins, and worship the lord of geo with great reverence.” You immediately switched attitudes, letting out a nervous laugh. For a seasoned businessperson like yourself, you had to know when to stop attacking and when to start defending. This was one of those times where it was best to defend - or, better yet, to just run away.

“Well then, you may begin now.” Zhongli crossed his arms.

“You’re not the lord of geo.” You retorted. The man had introduced himself as Zhongli, after all.

“Oh?” Zhongli smiled, and you felt your stomach churn. If this man truly was Rex Lapis, then you’d just made a very big mistake.

Zhongli turned and walked away, and you breathed out a sigh of relief - before he glanced back at you, expecting you to follow.

“Where… where are we going…?” You asked.

“Aren’t you going to atone? We’ll start by returning every cent of the mora you took.” Zhongli took your hand in his. A stupid, out of place warmth bloomed at the contact, but you quickly squashed it as you continued to fume at the man who’d dismantled your thriving business.

“What? The Tianquan was onto you already, would you rather face more extreme persecution from her?” Zhongli smiled.

“… No.” You snapped.

This ‘atonement’ was going to take a while.

Surprisingly, your victims - wait, *customers* - were scattered far and wide around Teyvat, so you found yourself going on many trips with the former lord of geo.

At first, you’d constantly snap at him, viewing him as a suspiciously pleasant millelith member, or an overly patronising supervisor. However, as the two of you got closer, he wasn’t as insufferable as you thought.

It was comforting to hear Zhongli share his past experiences, narrating first-hand stories like the ones in the history classes you never paid attention to. He was also the perfect height for you to grab his ponytail, yanking it particularly hard whenever you were bored.

To be honest, Zhongli often did appear as your guardian. He’d stop you from picking fights with strangers, easily holding you back (or slinging you over his shoulder if you were being particularly disagreeable), doing his best to maintain peace in an environment you were in.

On colder days, you’d borrow Zhongli’s coat, although it was so long it dragged along the floor. The sleeves hung over your hands, the cuffs flopping around whenever you excitedly pointed out something. Zhongli would chuckle at your mannerisms, resting a comforting hand on your head to keep you still.

Zhongli was calm, and you definitely were not. He was tall, but you most certainly weren’t. But you know what they say - opposites attract. And you made quite a pair with the former Geo Archon.

WANDERER

Two vertically challenged, feisty individuals with an attitude problem. Both you and the Wanderer were Sumeru city’s worst nightmare, although you undeniably despised each other.

You’d match his energy with unfaltering confidence as he hurled every insult in your direction upon seeing you. Honestly, neither of you were sure when this rivalry started - perhaps it’d just began when you two wanted to see who could be the best short angry person in the region.

“Looking as useless as ever, Wanderer.” You sneered upon seeing the familiar jellyfish cut from the back, snickering as the figure turned to glare at you.

“Has anyone ever told you about your severe temper issues?” The Wanderer snapped back.

“Speak for yourself - I heard you massacred some poor Fatui skirmishers while roaming in the jungle.”

“They were in the way, and you would’ve done the same if you were in my position.”

Those that were passing by watched your bickering with an amused trepidation. You really were perfect for each other, if you’d somehow set your hatred aside.

You and the Wanderer would be seen prowling the city streets or wrecking havoc in the wilderness in the name of some vague competition, both your tempers equally matched. In candid moments you two would almost understand each other perfectly, almost opening your mouths to say something vulnerable.

Of course, your egos wouldn’t allow for that. And so, you and the Wanderer would dance along the edge of whatever strange relationship you had.

Despite you both being short, the Wanderer possessed an Anemo vision. Hence, as you struggled to climb a tree to obtain some bird eggs, the Wanderer would float above you, cackling as he snatched them out of your reach.

“What on earth do you plan to do with these, anyway? I never knew you cooked.”

“Give them to me!”

“How sad life must be, having your head so close to the ground.” The Wanderer wove to the side to dodge your flailing arms, failing to notice the dangerous creaking of the branch you were clinging to.

“You’d better come back here right now-” The branch snapped and you went hurtling down, squeezing your eyes shut. You heard a crack, and felt yourself land against something.

“Gosh, you’re so heavy.” The Wanderer scoffed. He’d caught you mid-air, lowering you to the ground in mocking gentleness.

“Did I break a bone…?” You gasped, feeling something sticky on your back. Perhaps it was all your organs spilling out.

“No, you’re fine. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Then what was that cracking sound?”

“Uh, those eggs you were trying to get.”

You kept out of the Wanderer’s arms hurriedly, the almost tender moment broken - much like the eggs broken over your back and your companion’s hands.

“Archons, you’re so infuriating. Couldn’t you have put them down before saving me?” You scowled.

“Be grateful I did it in the first place.” The Wanderer rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if it was you or the sticky egg debris, but he felt a lingering warmth in his hands.

You and the Wanderer understood each other better than anyone, and let’s be honest - the whole of Sumeru was just waiting for the two of you to get together.

(pls ignore this)

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“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

blah

STOP DELETING MY SHIT

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Th

I HATE TUMBLR UGHHHH

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

I HATE TUMBLR

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise nor succinct, and there was a clear lack of nuance within the premise of your project. He idly flipped through the rest of the pages, already preparing to reject it.

“For research… there will be an interview held with a member of the Shuumatsuban who experiences difficulties growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve already had similar projects.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front cover and putting it aside.

The former Scribe tutted. Even the title wasn’t concise, nor did it provide much nuance. He was just flipping through the rest, already preparing to reject it.

“This project will… involve an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban, who experiences stunted growth… Interesting, but not groundbreaking.” Alhaitham stamped the front cover in red and put it aside.

[modernperplexity]

Chapter Rating: E (18+) Minors DNI, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex f receiving

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Frankie x f!reader

Summary: Things heat up...finally 🔥

A/N: So this is my first smut writing experience e v e r. I'm both quite terrified and excited. I hope it's as fun to read as it was to write. As mentioned before, I'm open to suggestions and ideas. My asks, DM's are always open :)

This chapter was not beta read. Sorry in advance for any typos.

Special shout out to @gyabislzr your input and suggestions are so valuable. I love talking stories with you!

If you'd like to join the tag list click here :) or let me know in the comments.

Happy Frankie Friday!💜

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

Chapter 5: Edge of Desire

The gentle morning light shone on the rumpled sheets beside you. You stretched and yawned before the pang of a headache made its presence, a little reminder of the events of the night prior. Frankie spent the night. You sat up in disbelief as you began to remember, Frankie had really spent the night, his lips touched yours, his scent still lingering on your sheets. A smile gently made its appearance on your lips. When the sudden sound of a frying pan piqued your curiosity.

You quickly padded over to your kitchen where the aroma of coffee greeted you as you entered the kitchen, finding Frankie with a towel slung over his shoulder, his white tee hugging his broad frame.

"Mornin' sunshine," he greeted, handing you a steaming cup. "Hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of raiding your pantry."

"Coffee and breakfast?" you said, leaning against the counter, the headache dulling with each sip.

"And some painkillers," he added, placing a light kiss on your forehead. "Thought you might need them."

"You're a lifesaver, thank you,"

"Least I could do," a hint of warmth in his voice.

"So, what's cooking?" you asked, nodding toward the stove where he was busy flipping something in the pan.

"Pancakes and bacon. Figured you could use something to soak up last night's indulgences."

"Fair enough," you said with a smirk, taking a seat at the table. "I'll take all the help I can get."

Frankie chuckled, joining you at the table as he plated the food. There was a comfortable silence between you as you ate, the tension from the night before still lingering in the air. As you finished your meal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude toward Frankie.

"Thanks for breakfast," you said, offering him a small smile. "And for… everything else."

Frankie returned your smile, his eyes softening in a way that caught you off guard.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice quieter than before. "You know where to find me if you need anything else." He added with a wink.

"Don't say that" You said playfully "might have you here all the time"

He chuckled, "I'm not sure if you remember our conversation last night but I meant everything that I said" Frankie's eyes carefully searched yours as he sipped his coffee.

"I did too" You nodded, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his words.

Frankie glanced at his watch, "I wish I could stay longer Hermosa, but I have to pick Camilla up soon," he said apologetically, "I'll text you soon, though. Promise." Frankie's lips curved into a sweet smile as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Watching him gather his things and head towards the door, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing. The morning had been unexpectedly pleasant, and you found yourself already looking forward to the next time you'd see him.

—

You went about your Sunday with your usual routine, though today held a subtle shift in the air. The typical chores awaited your attention—laundry remained untouched, and breakfast dishes sat in the sink. Yet, your focus was elsewhere, drawn irresistibly to the dancing blue bubbles on your phone screen.

Your phone buzzed, Frankie's name flashed across the screen, accompanied by a playful message.

Frankie: "Hola Hermosa. Miss me already?"

A grin spread across your face as you typed out a reply, your heart fluttering with excitement.

You: "Maybe just a little 😉. How's Camilla?"

Frankie: "Being an agent of chaos as usual. But don't worry, She says hi "

You couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of Frankie wrangling his energetic daughter.

You: "Tell her I said hi back! And make sure she doesn't give you too much trouble."

Frankie: "No promises. She's a handful, just like her old man."

You: "Guess that makes two of you then!"

As the day wore on, you found yourself eagerly anticipating each new message from Frankie. Your heart racing with every notification, like a lovesick teenager, completely caught up in the excitement of it all. Lost in the flurry of texts, you didn't notice the time slipping away until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a soft, golden glow. With a contented sigh, you set your phone aside, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement bubbling inside you.

—

Monday's had always been dreadful, the Sunday blues made a consistent appearance every night prior, causing you to curl up on your couch with a cup of your favorite tea to ease the anticipation of a new week. But ever since Frankie, things changed. His and Cami's arrival every Monday morning brought a sense of ease and excitement, at least, till now.

Your steps echoed down the clinic hallway as you nervously paced stealing glances out the window in the hopes of spotting the familiar sight of the green Jeep pulling into the parking lot. It was already fifteen minutes past the start of Cami's session, and Frankie had never been late before. Maybe there's traffic? Or maybe he regrets everything. A line has been crossed…What if-?

Heather strolled past you on her way to the printer, her voice cutting through your worried thoughts "How odd. Your kiddo's not here yet?"

"Nope" you replied, trying to sound casual "No sign of them yet"

"Oh by the way, did you see the e-mail from admin this morning?" She asked, sorting the thin stack of papers.

"Oh.." You realized you hadn't checked your emails, too preoccupied with setting up for the upcoming session "I haven't gotten to that yet, what's up?"

"We're sharing Cami now!" She squealed with a little too much excitement. "Their insurance approved them to be seen twice a week now! And, since you're schedule is booked they put her on mine for her second day. Isn't that great?"

"That's amazing! I'm glad she'll be getting all the help she needs" You flashed her a warm smile, "We're currently working on three-word phrases.. You'll love her, super cute kid and-"

"Even cuter Dad" Heather interjected, catching you off guard, "who knows maybe Mr. Morales will start bringing me coffee every session" She teased with a wink.

"Heather…it's not like tha-"

"Don't give me that look" She interrupted reading your expression, "No ring on that finger, sweetheart" she pointed out, leaning in closer. "And I know you know that too" her tone carrying a thinly veiled threat.

Is she onto something? No, that couldn't be right. I mean, how? Technically, there was nothing going on.

Thoughts of Frankie overwhelmed you, picturing his firm grip on your thighs as he lifted you, his breath sending shivers down your spine as it brushed against the curve of your neck. The memory of his lips meeting yours with an intense hunger consumed your mind.

Suddenly, the sound of a sweet little voice tore you away from your reminiscing thoughts and directed your attention to the clinic door, more specifically, the man holding her in his arms. "Peach time!" she cheered.

"Hey there Cami!"

"Sorry we're late" Frankie huffed as he set Camila down "Hit some unexpected traffic on the way over"

"That's okay, why don't we get started?" You suggested, keenly aware of Heather's lingering gaze.

__

Camilla's sweet giggles and squeals filled the clinic room. She had made so much progress- she was now able to label various body parts, colors, and household items. Her vocabulary had expanded so much in comparison to when she first started. She loved to sing, pop bubbles, and color, but most of all she loved to play with toy animals. Frankie was always so attentive to your advice and took special notice of the strong bond that you had with his daughter. He often wondered what it would look like to have you around more often.

"I meant to give you last week" Frankie pulled out a small envelope and handed it to you, "It would mean a lot to Cami and I, if you made it but we understand if you already have other plans"

You received the envelope with a shy smile. The watercolor safari-themed birthday invitation read, Four Ever Wild- Join us to celebrate Camila's 4th Birthday. "Oh Cami, you're growing so fast! Of course, I'd love to be there"

"Tell her how old you'll be." he gently encouraged, "show her- just like we've practiced"

Cami proudly lifted three little fingers, her other hand holding onto a plush elephant toy she brought from home.

Frankie chuckled "Almost there preciosa, remember you'll be four soon"

Camilla burst into giggles "I be fouh"

"Nice work Cami!" you praised, "Aww I can't wait to celebrate you, sweet girl"

Camilla smiled in response but her attention quickly shifted to your cube shelf. Her tiny hands eagerly grasped the small toy helicopter whose tail roter peeked out from the storage cube. She hurried to show off the toy to her father. "Papa look!.. choppuh!"

"A big chopper!" you said, reaching for another smaller model from the storage cube to continue Cami's play.

"Like the one Daddy flies," Frankie added, his eyes meeting yours with a warm smile spreading across his lips. "Speaking of… I'd like to take you with me sometime." Your heart skipped a beat as you bit your lip, a smile coloring your cheeks a rosy shade of pink in response to his offer.

"I'm sorry" he paused, a hint of nervousness flashing across his eyes "I should've waited until after the session to ask but I wanted to ask you in person"

"No, it's okay, I'd really like that," you replied, feeling your heart flutter with anticipation.

"Great, It's a date," Frankie confirmed, sealing the moment with a promise that made your heart swell.

As the session came to an end, you felt a surge of excitement coursing through you. With a lingering touch on your shoulder, Frankie whispered, "I'm excited to be your pilot." His breath brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Likewise," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Frankie's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I'll make sure every moment is worth the wait," he promised.

It hadn't been long after you walked them out of the clinic when your phone's screen lit up with a text notification that made your heart skip a beat.

Frankie: You looked really beautiful this morning.

You: I think I'll look even better as your co-pilot ;)

Frankie: Oh, I bet. Might get a little too distracted.

You couldn't help but giggle at his response, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks.

Frankie: By the way, I haven't forgotten about that faucet. I can swing by Wednesday evening, If you're free.

You felt a wave of heat rise to your cheeks.

You: That works! Looking forward to seeing you, handyman.

—

"He spent the night!?" Michele exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise as she set her wine glass down. "Spill woman, spill!! How was it?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Well, let's just say there were sparks, but it wasn't exactly um..a fireworks show."

Michele leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "What happened?"

You hesitated, trying to find the right words to describe the electric tension that had filled the air. "Well, we were definitely vibing, and things got pretty steamy, but then…"

"Then what?"

"Then we both kinda hit the brakes," you admitted, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. "But at least it was clear that the feelings are mutual."

Michele nodded understandingly. "Well, hey, progress is progress, right?"

"Yeah..," you agreed, taking a sip of your wine before adding "So, he's coming over tomorrow.."

"He's coming over tomorrow?" Her eyes lit up as she shifted in her seat.

"Yep, he's got his handyman hat on and is ready to tackle that faucet situation." You said biting your lip.

"Hmm, a little handyman action turning into something more?"

"Who knows?" you replied with a sly grin.

"Maybe he'll end up fixing more than just the plumbing" Michele giggled, "Whatever the case, I'll have my popcorn ready," she added with a wink.

"Anywho, what happened with the guy from the bar,"

Michele's expression a mix of amusement and chagrin. "Well, things were getting pretty hot and heavy…."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And?…"

"Then we get to his place, and his so-called roommates actually turned out to be his parents!"

You couldn't help but gasp "No way! Did his mom walk in on you guys or something?"

"Came in with a whole tray of milk and cookies!" You both burst out in laughter.

"Please tell me you took a cookie!"

"Yeah, but I think I'll pass on dating guys who still need a curfew. I swear I he looked older!"

—-

"Hey, do you think you can turn the shut-off valve?" Frankie's voice carried a playful edge as he glanced at you, noticing your eagerness to assist.

You had been keeping him company while he worked on your bathroom sink. Taking special notice of his broad shoulders made your sink look small. The way his muscles flexed as he tackled the task at hand. Having Frankie in your home once again stirred a sense of comfort and lit a fire deep within you.

"It's the one on the right," he directed with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, okay" You responded.

Reaching for the knob, you turned it, but before you could react, a sudden burst of water sprayed out, drenching both of you in surprise. You let out a surprised squeal as the water splashed onto your clothes, leaving you both thoroughly soaked. Laughter bubbled up between you as Frankie swiftly reached below the sink to shut off the valve.

"Well, that was unexpected," Frankie quipped, his grin widening as he failed to suppress his laughter

You covered your mouth in embarrassment, "I'm so sorry.."

"It's alright, Hermosa". He took notice of how your slicked strands framed your face. Even when drenched, you stirred admiration in him. "Oh god, you're soaked" Without a second thought Frankie instinctively grabbed a towel to pat you dry. "Here" He patted your cheek and trailed down to your collarbone, seemingly unaware that his touch had soon reached your breast. As Frankie's hands moved over your damp clothes with the towel, a charged atmosphere seemed to build between you. His touch was gentle yet firm, sending a fiery rush through you, as you felt his warmth radiating through the fabric. The atmosphere crackled with an intensity, an unspoken tension that hung between you, electric and undeniable, that left you dizzy.

You looked up into his eyes, finding they had darkened with something you couldn't quite place. His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory. You soon realized that the moment had shifted into something deeper, emerging from a place of desire.

"Frankie…" Your response barely above a whisper.

Frankie's fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt the closeness between you grow with each passing second. His proximity was intoxicating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"Yes?" he husked, his gaze searching your face for any hint of reservation.

"Don't. stop." you breathed, your heart racing.

Without a word, Frankie leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. The world around you seemed to fade away as you focused solely on the man before you, his breath mingling with yours in the space between you. Your lips met with an urgency that defied all reason, a hunger that begged to be sated. It was as if fireworks exploded overhead, igniting a fire within both of you, a culmination of longing and desire that had been building between you for far too long.

His hands reached for your thighs, as his kiss deepened, lifting you onto the sink with ease. Tools and various items fell to the floor, but in that moment, neither of you cared. His damp curls caressed your skin, leaving a trace of cool as his lips trailed down the crook of your neck. The heat of his breath sent shivers down your spine, releasing soft moans from your lips.

Frankie's fingers dance on the hem of your damp shirt, he examines your gaze watching your expression closely with a slight grin. The sight of you biting his lip drives him crazy but still, he waits for your response. "This okay?"

"Uh huh" you breathed, your chest now rising and falling rapidly as the tension rose and heat reached your center.

His large hands cup the full of your bra, the other working at the clasps of your bra, paying close attention to the way your supple breasts fell freely. It wasn't long before his lips enveloped your nipples, sucking and flicking his tongue in just the right way that sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

You desperately reached for Frankie who was now straining against his jeans. He shook his head and stopped your efforts "You first, Hermosa" he teased with a half smile, his hand dragged your skirt up your thigh and moved your panties to the side. Running his fingers through your slickened center, "already so wet for me" he whispered.

His fingers slid into your core pumping slowly and increasing in pace, leaving you breathless. "I want you to come for me.. like this" his voice hoarse with wanting. The way his fingers felt inside you drove you dizzy, your body already responding to his every move. His thumb circling deliciously over your clit compelling you to become undone in his arms. He reveled in watching your expression dissolve into waves of pleasure accompanied by the sweet noises that you made.

"Take me to bed" you managed.

Frankie's embrace felt strong and secure as he carried you to bed. Quickly getting rid of your clothes, you frantically started at his belt. Your hands grazed his hard cock straining against his jeans and let out a surprised squeal when Frankie, pulled your legs down to the edge of your bed.

"I wasn't done" he growled, sinking to his knees.

His eyes glazed over as he took you in and placed soft kisses that teased the tender skin of your thighs as he parted them, lifting them over his broad glistening shoulders. His mouth soon found your slick heat, his tongue lapped and sucking at your center. Each graze, and swirl of his tongue built up to send shockwaves of pleasure bringing you to the edge. You let out a desperate moan, your body writhing in response to him. needed him desperately, you needed to have him, now.

"Fuck…" you panted "I can't.."

"Use your words," He said, between your lips.

"I can't… take it…anymore" You propped yourself to see the sight of him hovering over you and pausing to look at you. "Fuck me.. Frankie…please"

He looked so beautiful in the moonlight that peered into your room his curls still damp from moments earlier. Hovering over you, kissing his way up your body as his hand lit a trail of heat as it explored the rest of you.

"Is this what you want?" He murmured, his eyes, dark yet filled with genuine concern, reflecting the awareness of the threshold you both were on the verge of crossing.

You closed the distance between you, capturing his lips. It was a declaration, a defiance against the constraints that had held you back for so long. In that instant, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. There were no more doubts, no more hesitations.

You welcomed the ache as he sank his hard cock into your heat. Each roll of his hips pushed deeper and deeper into you as he set the pace. You melted under him, the moonlight highlighting your bouncing breasts. His shoulders never looked more broad. The way he hovered over you, thrusting into you as he swirled his tongue over your aroused nipple, had you seeing stars. Frankie enveloped each of your cries with kisses.

"Come on baby, come on, come for me" He rasped, being spurred on by the sound of your glistening skin being pounded into.

His rhythm quickened as the headboard above you mirrored his thrusts. You reached for his hips driving him even deeper to hit that sweet spot over and over again until your pussy pulsed around him.

"F-frankie I'm coming!!" You screamed climaxing into pure ecstasy, unraveling under him as he buried into you, sending shockwaves all over your body.

"Fuck" he hissed, his pace now languid, each movement deliberate as he savored every movement before bursting into your heat.

He rolled over to the side of the bed, breathing in deep chests rising and falling catching your breath. He placed a sweet tender kiss on your lips before reaching for a towel to clean you up.

"I've never been more glad for a faulty faucet" you quipped, flashing him a smile.

He tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle as he took in the sight of you in your most vulnerable form. He smiled and was about to breathe out his response when the frantic buzzing of his phone derailed his thoughts.

His eyebrows furrowed in the glow of his phone to see three missed calls from Pope.

"Pope, what's going on? Is Camilla okay?" Frankie's heart pounded

"Yeah, she's fine, she's sleeping now." He paused, not knowing how to break the news to him, "It's Ashley… she showed up to the house."

---

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

Taglist:

@aquanatalie @spookyjamie333 @casa-boiardi @gaypoetsblog @jitterbugs927 @leed-bbg @kittenlittle24 @your-voice-is-mellifluous @jedi-in-crocs @bitchwitch1981 @pastelnap @pimosworld @76bookworm76 @littlemisspascal @southernbe @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @inept-the-magnificent @harriedandharassed @brilliantopposite187 @partyofone3413 @bunniboo0015 @gyabislzr

[imminentinertia]

In which I keep a promise to a bunch of people who read a fic five years ago and try to explain why I'm doing that now

In 2018, @vesperthine and I collaborated on run down till the rain delights you and when some people asked for more, we promised a sequel. That didn't happen.

Until now.

Now it's snaking its way to AO3 like an aging Toyota on cold Tromsø roads (I'm really sorry for this silliness but one of the inspo photos we used did this to me).

There's a bit of a backstory:

First of all, you have @nofeartina to blame for run down in the first place and @peacestew to blame for me sliding into the SKAM fandom in 2023 going "hiiii I haven't been in this fandom for years but here's a fic".

In 2018, Tina wanted fisherman!Isak in a knit woolen jumper* and somehow roped V into writing it, and then V somehow roped me into a collab (I'm still entirely unsure how I ended up saying yes), we brainstormed and looked for inspo and wrote some scenes** to see how it went. Fisherman!Isak turned into marine!biologist!Isak with an old fishing boat and a cabin, Even pretended to be suave, the Tromsø area piped up about wanting to be more of a character than a location and there we were:

Gif by @peacestew

It was so much fun writing with V, and we got along so well, so we wrote a short sequel quite soon after. It just needed a few final tweaks.

Then life happened.

Long story short, I haven't heard from Vesperthine since summer 2019. I hope she's happy and well, and I hope she's writing original fiction because she's seriously gifted, and I miss her because she's a very sweet and smart and lovely person. I was left with a nearly finished draft and a hope she'd turn up again. Since then I've turned down requests to translate and podfic run down, and disappointed a few people asking about the promised sequel, because it didn't feel at all right to make those decisions without V's input.

But it's been five years (!!!), I doubt I'll ever hear from her again, that draft is sitting there on my drive, and... so earlier this year I started thinking about just going ahead and posting it. I went through all our notes and figured out what remained to be done (not much, we even had the title ready), and decided to do those tweaks at some point.

Then Peace slid into my notes a while ago (it had been a few years since we were in touch, I love it when old mates show up), we chatted quite a bit and somehow mentioned run down, and I'm entirely unsure how this snowball started rolling but now we're doing an art + fic collab with that sequel. She's been terribly enabling, and dangling pretty gifs in front of me, how could I resist? She even made a gorgeous title gif for run down. V would have been just as happy with this, I'm sure.

Considering that the sequel was just about finished, and V and I never had any actual disagreements while writing (one tiny scuffle about adjectives, we compromised), I think she'd be okay having her name put on the sequel. And I am okay with making that decision, since it's been so long. I've done the final editing, Peace has added her lovely gifs and now I'm just going to work up the courage to post it.

As stupid as I feel giving directions for fic reading I recommend you read (or re-read, bless everyone who has read it) run down till the rain delights you first, I'm not sure the sequel will make much sense otherwise.

the roll of the harbour wake is coming soon to a fic archive near you. Peace and I hope you will enjoy it.

Gif by @peacestew

*the fic was almost immediately nicknamed The sweater fetish fic. Drooling over the guys in knit woolen jumpers kept happening for ages.

**the first scene we wrote didn't actually make it to run down, but we put it in harbour wake, and it goes to show that sometimes a fic takes a very different direction from where you start it.

[dearmrsawyer]

@kezzzx tagged me quite a while ago, sorry its taken me so long! my life has been a mess but i'm trying to catch up on things, thank you so much for tagging me!! @gloryhalleloujah you also kindly tagged me in something v similar, so i've meshed them together to achieve two things at once 🙌

Last song - Boulevard of Broken Dreams last came up on shuffle

Favourite colour - purple

Currently reading - The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. I've had this on my shelf for forever and was really looking forward to it but honestly i'm not enjoying it all that much. Its so rich with characters who i am keen to follow but Esteban is such a disturbing presence, and he's constantly derailing the lives of every other character with his temper and violence, and i'm sick of him??? i'm just over halfway, i'm hoping that at some point soon he dies and i get to see the rest of the characters enjoy their lives lol. Alas, the characters who deserve the shortest lives are always somehow the most resilient so i don't have that much hope rip

Currently watching - i'm currently rewatching Jane the Virgin, just starting s4

Sweet/savoury/spicy - sweet tooth for sure, i'm a sugar addict

Relationship status - single and content

Current obsession - i really feel that my obsessions never go away or wind down, anything i've ever loved to the degree of hyperfixation i still love just as much, and i'm ready to direct my attention to any of them at any time always. BUT i have been spending most of my time in the six of crows world for the past year. i used to read fic like 5+ years ago but there was very little at the time, so coming back to discover how much there is now (post show) has been extremely fun. getting to discover all the talented people who have chosen to pour their creativity into a thing you love is so exciting

Last thing searched - the name of my superannuation fund because i can never remember it lol, trying to sort out some irl admin stuff, very not fun and easy to get stressed about 😔

i think i will no-pressure tag @sparrowmoth , but also you may have done this already sometime in the months its taken me to do it!

[sillygreenrat]

I have some more smokeybat headcanons, got inspired now

#. Sam gets a big crush on Uzi, he wants to try impress her and hang out with her. So he tries asking her out whenever he can, Uzi oblivious to his crush agrees and hangs out with him a lot.

#. Uzi shows him anime and he ends up liking anime quite a lot, his favourite type being chill slice of life or the cooking anime. Makes him jealous they can't eat like humans can

#. He makes her a badge of their favourite anime character for her to wear on her beanie.

#. Sam is a talented artist and has a sketch book full of drawings and abstract work too. When he on magnets is when some his most colourful work is done. He has a very detailed drawing of Uzi he keeps special. It's of her in class reading, she looked so pretty that day.

#. Sam got a bit jealous when Thad started talking to Uzi , he could see Uzi seemed to like him a bit and was a little sad by that. He got more upset when N showed up because he could definitely see Uzi big crush on him.

#. He talk with Uzi about N and he encourages her to tell him how she feels, being a wingman.

#. Sam writes a love note to Uzi along with a drawing and sends it to her anonymously, hoping to impress her. He was too scared to sign it.

I have more if you like to listen to it

i am SO sorry for taking so long on these lmfao???? i really wanted to think abt these. tysm for sending me all of these delightful thoughts to grab and run with i would absolutely be willing to hear more

1 + 5: it was a crush that's been there since the begining, uzi was always kinda cute and charming, the way she interupted class with sarcastic wit on occasion, the way she would go above and beyond what the assignments were just to have her own fun. sam has always been the more quiet, shut in type, always following rules, never usually being the type to speak up or make a sound, but whenever uzi does something particularly silly he can't help but laugh a little (and boy shes a whole fucking circus so lemmie tell you). though he had to eventually start making moves once thad god involved.

for the record, i do NOT ship thad n uzi, i get it as a ship, but it just aint my thing, however im a big fan of unrequitted love, and i can absolutely see uzi just not being interested in the popular jock type (shes more into the silent stoner type COUGH COUHG(J)), seeing thad as more of a close friend due to him being so caring when no one else seemed to be.

unfortunately for sam the only time he was able to fully talk and get to know uzi was AFTER she was already introduced to his oil (lmfao)

2: this dude wants to eat so bad, let this man manifest some robot mac n cheese for his ass. its not 'hunger' but its like, some fuckin program malfunction due to the magnets that you could compare to stoner munchies but lord does he get angry when uzi puts on a ghibli or some shit and they start makin ramen or some shit.

on the topic of anime tho uzi would absolutely be into anime and try and get sam (and by extention N and possibly V) into anime

current hyperfixation is firmly beliving shes be a nutcase over jujutsu kaisen (would love the curses and their vibe of 'we wanna take over humanity' but the humans are pretty cool too she GUESSES) but i think shed also be into shit like kill la kill, evangelion, maybe even a smidge of ouran on the side bc damn it she wants to be surrounded by a buncha cute boys (and low and behold be projecting trasmasc feelings onto uzi but boy she'd feel a sense of 'man i bet i could pull off a suit' and she WOULD)

3 + 4: him being obsessed w/ drawing n stuff is honestly a small headcanon i had personally!!!!! glad its a thing for another person ugh (positive) he would totally pay attention to the characters she hyperfixates on and go CRAZY making her posters and small keychain hangers and such (probably has an old laminator in his house that he uses to seal the all to keep them from getting ruined). i like to imagine he likes to draw/paint skyscapes, trying to find really interesting cloud formations or spots where the moon shines through them to draw cuz he thinks that kinda shits beauitufl, would absolutely love earth sky's so fucking much let this man see them

6 + 7: N IS BEST WINGMAN. i ship all of them together in one homoginous poly so i can confirm this happened and it was real. would absolutely help sam before he even considered allowing his feelings for uzi show

[t4tgempearl]

HI im sorry this took so long!! So the undergrove, I will admit i know a little less about it as opposed to some of the other empires but its still v fun to play around with! this isnt as in depth as my gilded helethia rant partically because i am really tired and partially because i know less, i might flesh it out a bit more at a later date though.

I think it's a lot less established then many of the other empires. Not less established as in ramshackle but more as in rather empty. There would be some gnomes that made it through the portal with her but for the most part its populated by forest animals who decided shrub was a friend and the occasional person who didnt want to stay in any other empires.

Shrub became the ruler of the undergrove after she founded it when she led the remaining gnomes to empires from their old world (i havent watched shrubs pov so take that with a grain of salt) She never thought she deserved the title but she ended up taking it anyway.

The culture would be rather different as opposed to many other places, they forage rather then farm. Only a few things are grown or imported. Status is almost non existent and everyone knows everyone. People do many things together, work, eat, sleep. A lot of their traditions revolve around community as a way to get back what they lost after the destruction of their home world.

For cusine and clothing (my favourite parts) i think it would all be rather rustic. Clothes are handmade from animal furs and fabrics imported from other empires. Theyre usually quite loose and practical, lots of pockets and easy to move around in. Colours to match the mushrooms are favoured so many people where white/grey with pops of warmer colours. This does cause a bit of contrast within the forest though so clothes for things such as hunting and foraging are usually made in darker shades of brown and green.

Food is usually made in large batches, big pots of stew, massive loaves of bread, etc. Despite the gnomes smaller size they do this so they can share food and also so it lasts for longer. Many people carry around 'snack pouches' in which they will carry berries, dried meat and other such things to eat throughout the day.

Animals are treated as equals and often have their own homes, if they are the companions of certain families or people they will wear pieces of cloth tied around their legs or necks to show that. Wolves are somewhat revered as holy animals and it is forbidden to ever harm one lest you become cast out and ostracized.

Thats about all i got rn im afraid i need to go to bed, i hope you enjoyed my hopefully somewhat comprehensible rant that i am not bothered to spell check

That was so awesome to read! Tysm!!

I love the undergrove and I am so normal (lie) about shubble characters

[marslikestowrite]

Poison

[3.7k Words]

18+

MASTERLIST

Summary: After not seeing your boyfriend for quite a long time, you think of a fun surprise for when he comes home. 

Warnings: p in v sex, afab, lingerie, smutty smut, reader and Ghost being adorable at the end. NOT PROOF READ. 

A/N: This fic was inspired and has lyrics from the song ‘Poision’ by Alice Cooper. Enjoy! <3

Too damn long. That’s all you could think of as you await your boyfriend’s arrival back to where the two of you share an apartment. You had only been together for three weeks before he left. Three may seem like too little to be living together, but when you found out he was staying in shady motels between missions, you persuaded him to move into the spare bedroom in your apartment since he wasn’t comfortable with sharing a bed quite yet. You are as city as city gets. You work in a coffee shop about two blocks away from your place, and were completely oblivious to what was happening with the CIA until you met Ghost a few months back. He came in alone. Ordering just a singular large black coffee. The same order every single day, for 3 weeks. During those weeks, your affiliation with the mysterious masked man grew bigger, until it developed into a friendship, and then more. He came completely clean to you once you asked him out. He told you everything, well, what he could tell you at least. You accepted him, you welcomed him with open arms, you didn’t see him as a monster. You were a spitfire. Not taking bullshit from anyone. Crappy customer? Fuck them, you don’t need their measly 5 dollars. Asshole in the grocery store taking too long with their coupons? Tell them off. That’s what Ghost loved about you. Your ability to not take shit from anyone, and though he didn’t show it, your attitude absolutely wrecked his ability to think. You turned his insides to a big mushy puddle. 

You and Ghost hadn’t done anything sensual apart from you sitting on his lap watching a movie, and you kissing his cheek. He was very.. Not used to physical affection, and you were willing to take it slow. He craved your affection deep inside however. He couldn’t figure out how to show it. You figured this out not long before he left after you kissed his balaclava covered cheek and you saw him moving his head to chase after your kiss. He wasn’t very subtle. So here you are, sitting on the couch watching some stupid Rom-Com wrapped in a gray bath robe with a brand new set of black-lace lingerie that you had bought recently. You thought you looked rather hot in it, and you hoped Ghost felt the same, it was all for him anyways. He didn’t tell you when he was going to arrive, only that it was today. You sat on that couch as hours rolled by. 8 am. 11 am. 2 pm.  6 pm. You eventually got up from the couch to make some food, and once you got the cup-o-noodles out of the cupboard, you heard the door unlock. It took you a moment to register, before you were sprinting to the door. There you saw your 6’4 hunk of a man standing clad in his camouflage and skull mask. You raced towards him, and caught him off guard while he was still turned around, embracing him in a massive bear hug. His hands met yours around his waist caressing them for a moment before turning around in your vice grip. “Looks like someone missed me.” He teased, as you let out an annoyed huff.

“You know I did.” You quipped back, staring up at him with a smile. You reached up to take off his skull mask, but leaving his balaclava on, and in replace of the mask, you left a soft kiss on his cheek. You let go of him, letting him take off his tactical gear and boots, watching him however while he does.

“You’ll stare a hole through me.” He says without looking up at you as he unties his boots. “Fine fine, sorry. I guess I won’t give you your surprise then.” 

That immediately got his attention.

“Oh?” He questioned, a smirk working its way onto your lips. “Go change big boy, then I’ll give it to you.” You didn’t miss the pep in his step as he made his way over to his room to change, the door closing abruptly and the sound of quickly pulled zippers could be heard, making you chuckle. You hoped you wouldn’t cross any boundaries with what you were about to do. However if Ghost didn’t like what was going on, you knew he’d let you know. After a couple minutes, Ghost made his way out, and you motioned him to the couch. You could see his facial expression change to a confused one under the balaclava as he walked over to the couch, sitting down. You stared at him for a moment, looking him dead in the eyes in complete silence as you thought everything over quickly one last time. One look, could kill. 

He didn’t know what was going on, but he figured it might be serious based on the expression on your face. You took a deep breath, untying the robe, and dropping it to the floor, a now embarrassed look on your features. Ghost could not believe it. His eyes widened and he sat there stunned. The black lace didn’t leave much for imagination, the way it cupped your breasts, pushing them up a little, and the way the lace at the bottom barely covered your core. It was a basic set, a bra and panties. You didn’t want to get anything too fancy, in case you scared him off. Say something, anything, please. He remained silent, his eyes looking you up and down, his mouth agape just a little. You didn’t miss the way he shifted on the couch, clearly uncomfortable.

“Simon?” You asked, a bit scared now at the lack of talk from the other.

“For me?” He finally speaks up, shocking you as you give him a slight nod. “Bloody hell you’ll kill me.” He whispers to himself, however despite the silence in the room, you hear him. A smirk appears on your face, as you move to situate yourself right on his lap. Right on his growing bulge. His breath hitches, as he white knuckles the side of the couch.

My pain, your thrill.

You wrap your arms around his neck, staring down into his gorgeous blue eyes. His pupils dilate just a smidge as he makes eye contact with you. He still hasn’t touched you though. He feels as though he can’t. As though he’ll taint you if he touches your porcelain skin.

I wanna love you but I better not touch. I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop.

You see the hesitance as he fights himself, hands still clutching the couch next to you. You remove your hands from his neck, and trace them down his arms, all the way to his hands, gently taking them away from the couch, and placing them on your hips. His muscles tense as he lightly grips the flesh of your hips, clearly new to this type of feeling. No, he wasn’t a virgin. He had his fair share of one night stands between missions just to feel, but this, this was different. There were no feelings with the other women. There are only feelings for you, with you. You moved your mouth towards his covered ear.

“Relax.” You coo, and as if on command, he breaths, and his whole body goes lax. “I’m yours Simon, you can touch me.” And as if he was given a command, his hands move from your hips, up to your shoulders, down your forearms, to your hands, back up to your shoulders and down your rib cage, to your thighs that were straddling his hips. It’s like he was committing your body to memory, all while his gaze didn’t leave yours. However something felt off. Like he needed to do something. He wanted to kiss you. Actual kiss, not a kiss on the cheek, not a peck, a kiss. He felt the primal urge to. He hasn’t yet, and it feels wrong. So wrong.

I wanna kiss you but I want it too much.

He didn’t know how to ask, he didn’t know what to say. He was still taken aback by your “surprise”. (Not that he was opposed to it.) He figured the best way was to slowly lift the bottom of his balaclava up, revealing his nose and lips. Your eyes brightened up as you realized what he wanted. You nodded softly, and he took the opportunity to seize your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. His lips were rough, but he tasted sweet, a perfect contrast. His lack of experience was evident, but you loved it even so. Apparently he was too, because you felt him growing against your thigh. I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous, poison.

He didn’t know how to describe your kiss. Addictive was what it was. He couldn’t get enough. He could sit here for hours upon end and just kiss you. His hands moved to gently grab and knead at your ass, making a whine exit your throat, and into the kiss. He needed to hear more. More, more, more. That’s all he could describe this growing feeling. More of you. You didn’t know how long you two had been kissing. 5 minutes? 10? 20? An hour? It had turned into a steamy makeout session, your mouths molding together, as you grasp at every part of each other. Your mouth, so hot.

He couldn’t let go, he couldn’t stop. It was addicting. You were addicting. Like a drug, one he doesn’t want to quit. He doesn’t understand how you make him feel this way. He’s normally composed, stoic, intimidating. You however, make him a mess.

Your web. I’m caught. 

He finally decided to break the kiss, however he wasn't done yet. His lips traveled across your cheeks, and slowly down the side of your neck. He searched for that spot, and he was determined to find it. To make you squirm. To make you make those gorgeous noises again. He wanted it. He needed it. Your breath hitched as he peppered feather light kisses over your collarbone. Bingo. He found it. He smirked against your neck, before attacking that spot with nips and sucks. And squirm you did, just like he thought. Your hips rose slightly from his lap, as your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands gripped his shoulder. Pitiful whines and soft moans escaped your lips as he continued his assault on your sensitive spot. Addictive. He couldn’t get enough of your gorgeous noises. Once he finished his assault on one side, he looked at the mark he left, and the only thought in his mind was; Mine. He moved to the other side and started to suck on that same spot, gaining the same ministrations from you. He then worked up the sides of your neck until you were covered in purple and blue splotches.

“Mine.” He muttered against your neck. You didn’t know what got into him. You didn’t think he’d act this.. Aggressive and possessive. You weren’t complaining though. You had broken a sweat, your chest heaving as he finally gave you a breather as he studied the marks he had left behind.

Your skin, so wet. Black lace, on sweat.

You looked gorgeous as you sat there on his lap. Your breathing heavy, the sweat glistening on your forehead, the lingerie, the marks. Absolutely stunning.

“Can’t believe you're all mine.” He said, caressing your hips. His pants were unbelievably tight, and he needed out of them soon. Turns out you could read his mind.

“Are you gonna take me to bed Simon? Or are you just gonna keep bruising me up? Not that I’m complaining.” You cooed with a smirk, making his breath hitch, before he grunted.

“Oh, I’ll take you to bed alright, don’t you worry.” He said, a smirk plastered on his face as the balaclava still lay above his nose.

I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name.

He abruptly picked you up, hands underneath your thighs as you squeal, clinging to him for dear life. God he was strong. He carried you over to your room, not his room, your room. It made your heart melt a little bit, he was comfortable being in your space now. He gently laid you down on the bed, before taking off his shirt and crawling over the top of you, leaning down and capturing your lips into another passionate kiss. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, nails gently digging into the flesh, leaving 5 pink blotches on each of his shoulder blades, and earning a groan from the man. He broke away from the kiss, your lips chasing him instinctively. He smirked, and looked into your eyes, all he could see was pure love, need and desire. Someone needed him. He slowly moved his hand down towards your core, leaving goosebumps in his trail. His index finger hooked into the side of your panties, as he looked back up at you, a questioning look on his features.

“Can I?” He whispered.

“Please.” 

He pulled them down, and threw them across the room where his discarded shirt lay. He was eye level with your core, making you quite embarrassed, as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut. He didn’t let you however, he hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold them spread apart. You were trusting him with your vulnerability, your innocence, your everything. His breath fanned across your pussy, making you shiver, and emitting a pitiful whimper.

“Simon please, stop teasing.”

“With pleasure, love.” 

Don’t wanna touch you but you’re under my skin. 

He dove into you, devouring you like he was a starved man, and this was his last meal. He didn’t give you a chance to comprehend anything before moans were torn from the back of your throat. Your eyes closed, and you tried to close your thighs again, but his grip around them was too strong, and so you gave up, body going limp, writhing from the pleasure your Simon was giving you. Your senses were heightened, you could avidly feel the way his nose was rubbing against your clit, the way the fabric of his balaclava rubbed against your skin, the way his rough hands kneaded at the flesh of your thighs the way he was groaning into you as if eating you out gave him pleasure. You were growing close, oh so close.

“Simon- Simon I-“ You tried to warn him. You were sure he could feel your core clenching around his tongue. You were starting to tip over the edge, before he pulled away, yanking you from your delicious approaching orgasm. You whined, tears building up in your eyes as you looked down at him, only to see him smirking up at you, your slick covering his mouth.

“Watch me. If you look away even once you won’t be cumming.” His voice dropped a tone, and if you could get any wetter, you just did. He moved his head back down, and continued his assault on you. His tongue flicked your clit every once and a while, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You couldn’t stop moaning. Maybe it was the constant eye contact you were keeping with him, or maybe it was the effort he was putting in. It just felt so damn good. You felt it approaching you once more, Ghost could feel it, and he could see it on your face. He pulled away, but his fingers rubbed against your clit so he wouldn’t waste your orgasm.

“I want you to say my name while you cum. I want everyone in this damn complex to know you’re off limits.” He said possessively, before lowering his head back to your core. You felt it building, the glass was close to tipping. 

“Simon I-“ His tongue flicked at your clit, causing your hips to jerk, and the glass to tip over.

“Simon!” You repeated his name like a praise. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision went blurry, and your senses were heightened as Simon drank up everything you gave him. He rode you through your high until you were whining out that it was too much. 

“You still with me?” He questioned, his hand gently rubbing your face.

“Barely.” You chuckled, looking up at him as he wiped an arm over his mouth. Your eyes trailed down lower until you found what you were looking for. One of your hands followed suit. Gently cupping his clothed cock, you look up at him seeing his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his shoulders tense. You felt bad, he’s been constricted all this time, so you decided to help him out. Your hand moves to unbutton his jeans, unzip, and pull them down. You then tuck your hands in the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him for approval, expecting to see his eyes still shut. However you’re completely wrong, he is staring at you directly, his ocean blue eyes gazing straight into you. He nods, and you pull his boxers down, helping him step out of them. You move to situate him on the bed, getting down on your knees in front of him.

“Love, as much as I would love to, not right now, I need to be inside you.” His voice sounded like he was begging, and you absolutely loved it. You nodded, moving to situate yourself straddling his lap, your core settling just over the tip of his cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as he waited for you to lower yourself. You were hesitating. He was big, and you were nervous. You initiated this, you bought the lingerie. Ghost saw your hesitation, and he wanted to help. He moved his hands to gently caress your hips, and he moved his lips to yours, enrapturing you in a gentle kiss. His hands gently moved you down, the tip of his cock entering you, a squeak leaving your throat into the kiss. He kept slowly moving you down, until you were fully seated on his dick, making you a squirming mess. He broke the kiss, keeping his covered forehead against your own. 

“Relax.” He whispered. After a few minutes you calmed down, and began slowly dragging yourself up his shaft, letting yourself sit just at the tip, before moving back down. You moaned loud, and the guttural groan Simon let out was hot. You continued slowly moving up and down, until you set a pace, bouncing up and down, your lingerie clad breasts bouncing with your ministrations. (The skimpy fabric doing not much to hold your boobs.) “That’s it. Atta’ Girl.” He cooed. You locked eyes with him, and his eyes were glazed over with pure devotion and lust. Past the black paint surrounding his eyes, and the balaclava covering his face. You saw a kind man. A man that would give you the whole world if you asked for it. You moved your head forward, capturing him in another kiss. He flipped you over so you were laying on your back, and your legs were around his waist so he could enter deeper into you, all while not breaking the kiss. You broke it however when he hit a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars, and throwing your head back. “Yes! Yes Simon- Right-” You were cut off by a high pitched moan as he began to thrust harder into that spot. Anything to hear your gorgeous noises.

“Yes.. Take it. Fuck- I love you.” It might have been the heat of the moment. But Simon hadn’t told you those three words yet. It took a moment to register in yours, and in his brain. His thrusts stopped as he registered what he said, and his eyes screamed all his emotions. He was terrified. He was afraid to love someone because they always ended up getting hurt, or hurting him. He also thought he said it too soon. You however acted completely differently. You started up at him, a drunk smile on your face and your eyes glazed over with love. Your hand reached up to cup his face, and he leaned into it.

“Simon.. I love you too.” His facial expression completely changed. You couldn’t see much, but you knew he was happy. He leaned down and kissed you ever so gently, as if he wasn't seated to the hilt inside you, as if you would break. Once he pulled away, you reached out and held his cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” You repeated, staring directly at him, and he grinned, a legitimate smile, before burying his face in your neck. He continued his previous ministrations, pulling out, and pushing back in. He was going slow this time. He was making love to you. He didn’t need to be possessive, or protective over you. He knew he had you. He was all you wanted. “Si.. I’m close.. In please..” You whispered in his ear. He knew, you knew he knew, however you just wanted to get him to talk. He pulled his head away from your neck, looking down at you, a nervous look in his eyes now.

“Are you sure..?” “I’m on the pill.. Si please, I need all of you.” He nodded. He understood you were vulnerable right now, and he wanted to take care of you. “Give it to me.. Please. Let me take care of you. Come for me.” He cooed softly, and as if on command, you were clutching onto him, and spasming around his cock. He kept thrusting into you after you reached your high, chasing his own. Not long after, he stilled. You were staring at the ceiling, a goofy smile on your face as he slowly pulled out. You felt the bed dip beside you, and strong arms wrapping around your waist, before your cheeks and neck were attacked with featherlight kisses, and then sweet, quiet mumbles of “I love yous”.

“Si-Si!” You giggled. “I gotta get cleaned up Si.. I don’t wanna get like.. A disease of something.” You laughed.

“I’ll clean you up in a moment. You’re not doing anything for the rest of the evening, but I just wanna hold you for a moment.” He said, feeling the fabric of his mask against your neck. Anything for him, even if it meant risking a yeast infection.

“I’m so glad you’re mine.” “I’m forever yours, Simon.”

[koko-online]

Let me guess. You’re a Zenos enjoyer and that’s why you hate Zero. Because she got exactly the story you had hoped for Zenos. For him to learn how to be around people and go on adventures with you, but instead of him, his voidsent got the story.

Neat, my first ask on this account.

Oh dear lord I would have quit the game if they gave my sweet precious boy Zenos this story. Zenos is perfect as he is, and what you're describing is literally the plot of 6.0.

The patch story is, like, really bad.

1. It's clearly just a trial story, which is fine, but because they called it the msq, they felt they needed to take up a certain amount of playtime. So they invented these completely contrived, fake problems that give us an excuse to waste a ton of time talking to NPCs in Garlemald and the First who really have nothing meaningful to say.

2. The solution to their contrived problem, at least in Garlemald, flies in the face of the themes of the decade-long msq--selflessness, self-determination. It's literally just the propaganda line for 21st century colonialism??? "Garlemald, this poor sweet darling baby 🥹, its people are desperate not to improve their conditions, but to really feel like they've earned it 🥹 ! I know, we'll stop providing aid and instead let them sell off their natural resources to Thavnair for pennies, y'know, for the spirits of the people!"

3. E v e r y t h i n g just felt so god damn forced. The Golbez / Durante stuff was played up for tears, but we literally only just last patch learned who the fuck they are and their back story. Zeromus is completely irrelevant to the plot and was just an excuse to give us a trial. They literally were like "sorry, wol, you missed the story cuz you were just roleplaying a nuke, here's an echo flashback of what the *real* heroes were doing".

4. **Zero.** Counter to what I think you're implying, I never really had resentment toward her *in the context of Zenos*. Zenos had his ending. In fact, he had three endings if you're counting the high school AU. I love him, I love his character, I'd love to see more of him, but if they're done with him, I'm satisfied. **On the other hand** Zero just whines the entire god damn time, in the same exact way, about how she doesn't understand non-transactional relationships until suddenly it clicks for her in 6.5. There's no development, it's like they had an *idea* for the development and direction of the character, but they forgot they had to stretch it for two years worth of main story, so they just....had her repeat herself until her gigantic 180. It's not *shown* how she's transactional in nature or changing, it's just that she literally tells us every patch that that's how she is. It's so god damn boring and dry. It's like reading a 14 year old's fanfic.

5. The constant, unrelenting fellatio of FF4 also doesn't help. I have nothing against it, but they went *hard* with the "inspiration" this time. Makes everything feel disposable and predictable.

6. And since you brought up Zenos, like. Zero went *out of her way* to bring up Zenos in conversation, out of nowhere, four patches in a row. They were clearly angling to draw a contrast here, but it was never made. She never accepted or rejected Zenos view on friendship, she just ... WANTED TO SAY WORDS I guess. God I fucking. That went nowhere.

7. AND SPEAKING OF THINGS THAT WENT NOWHERE 6.1 was full of neat little lore about the voidsent and souls and what it means to devour someone. This all went absolutely freaking nowhere. Just thought we'd bring it up I guess????

8. So much, SO MUCH of Endwalker's story--main, patch, and side--revolves around the theme of companionship. At the same time, the game that story is in is progressively turning into a single player action rpg. It leaves the stories feeling hollow and fake. Like, okay, I should make friends and that's where the fun of the game should be. How should I do that? Uh...sit in limsa I guess? Cuz everywhere else is either silent (DF), communication forbidden (PvP), just soloed by the community (v/c dungeons), or positions other people as either warm bodies or hindrances (PF). FUCKING ENDWALKER man. They started off so strong with the msq and fucked it up every single step of the way.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

What a week! That dude that took over Twitter is driving it in the ground with a gigantor hammer all while we watch from the cheap seats sipping our soda and eating popcorn. What a spectacle.

This week was a busy week at work, promotion time. Lots of meetings. I’m all Zoom’ed out.

Enjoy that morning elixir of life. I certainly am. ☕️

Wired

Eugen Rochko looks exhausted. The 29-year-old German programmer is the founder of Mastodon, a distributed alternative to Twitter that has exploded in popularity in recent weeks as Elon Musk’s ownership of the platform has rained chaos on its users.

I’ve heard some folks doubt the survivability of Mastodon and doubt hate can be squashed there. In my experience on the platform it’s quite the opposite. If you’re running a server full of racist white nationalists, Nazis, or other hate groups it’s extremely easy for the admin of your server to block federation of that entire server.

I’ve found Mastodon to be so much better for conversation with folks outside my little friend bubble on Twitter.

Brent Simmons

For writers, artists, podcasters, journalists, and people who make things in public, Twitter was the one social networking site we all had to use.

Brent is a long time blogger, Mac programmer, creator and leader of the NetNewsWire team, and all around great guy. If you’re a consumer of RSS point your feed reader to his site. It’s a great read.

Platformer

Musk went on to say that “Twitter will be much more engineering-driven,” and that while design and product “will still be very important,” engineers “will have the greatest sway.” And then Musk presented employees with an ultimatum: click “yes” on a Google form affirming your desire to “be part of the new Twitter,” or leave in exchange for three months’ pay.

I’ve heard from a friend that most of the US Engineering staff left. That’s just wild.

Last week, I made the decision to leave my role leading Trust & Safety at Twitter. Today, I'm sharing a few thoughts about what comes next for the site. https://t.co/QPAQR6zpqU

— Yoel Roth (@yoyoel) November 18, 2022

I don’t have a NY Times subscription but I’ll bet this piece by Mr. Roth is quite good.

Daring Fireball

If you had told me three weeks ago that Twitter, as a company, would today be embroiled in turmoil — perhaps outright existential crisis — over a company-wide email from Elon Musk centered around the phrase “extremely hardcore”, v-1 is not the scenario I’d have imagined.

In my career I’ve worked for some hardcore companies, like the old Microsoft, it’s not fun. Don’t do it.

NEW: Email from Elon to the engineering team: "Anyone who can actually write software, please report to the 10th floor at 2pm today. Before doing so, please email me a bullet point summary of what your code commits have achieved in the past 6 months" 1/

— Zoë Schiffer (@ZoeSchiffer) November 18, 2022

I don’t understand why he continues to ask for snippets of code from his employees. It’s just some random metric he’s using to what what end? What about the devs who made Twitter better by removing code?

CNN www.cnn.com/2022/11/1…

Amazon confirmed on Wednesday that layoffs had begun at the company, two days after multiple outlets the e-commerce giant planned to cut around 10,000 employees this week.

It’s been a rough couple weeks in the tech sector. I’m sorry to see so many folks having to deal with this. Here’s hoping they land on their feet quickly.

Fresnoland fresnoland.org/2022/11/1…

While Central Valley agricultural leaders warn of jobs loss during California’s ongoing drought, some local leaders say it’s time for less water-dependent economic opportunities.

California is in deep trouble so the United States food supply is in deep trouble. You’ll see it at the grocery store.

Becky Hansmeyer

When I tweeted my way into the iOS community so many years ago, I felt the same energy and excitement, if not necessarily the same level of closeness. You all gave me the confidence I needed to keep going with programming when I felt like giving up. We’ve person. Like her I lament the loss of the Twitter we knew but all good things come to an end, right?

America, America

I’m not anywhere close to assuming redemption for Rupert Murdoch or his publication for their role in empowering the dangerous desecration of the last six years, particularly since Fox News showed reluctance in quitting the man by airing nearly all of his sour announcement. (For me, the announcement at Mar-a-Lago had more of the air of a man running from the law than running for the presidency.)

How TFG avoids jail time at this point is beyond me.

The Register

Microsoft Azure CTO Mark Russinovich has had it with C and C++, time-tested programming languages commonly used for native applications that require high performance.

Russinovich is a legendary software engineer. It’s gonna be interesting to see how many new products come out of Microsoft and other companies written in 100% Rust.

The Brookings Institution

In this second edition of our October 2021 report, we review the investigation and its basis. We assess the publicly known facts and relevant law and analyze the extent to which the former president may be held criminally responsible for his conduct in Georgia. We conclude that Trump is at substantial risk of criminal prosecution in Fulton County.

At substantial risk? How is he not already in handcuffs? If any of us “regular” people had done this we’d be thrown in a dungeon.

Jalopnik

Haas’ Kevin Magnussen just scored his first-ever pole position in Formula 1 during the Brazilian Grand Prix. Yes, I intended to write that sentence. It’s not April Fool’s Day. Kevin Magnussen is polesitter for Saturday’s sprint race.

I support Haas. It’s an American F1 team and I’m happy for Kevin Magnussen and Haas. Now, get some podiums! 😂

PZ Meyers

Between the Church Militant and Nick Fuentes, it’s pretty clear what the theocratic Right wants to do: they want to kill you or force you to be as mad as they are.

Nick Fuentes is a piece of work but at least he’s not hiding his White Christian Nationalism behind dog whistles, no sir, he’s just saying it out loud.

From: @twittereng To: @elonmusk Subject: pic.twitter.com/EiDADFtMCN

— DM of Engineering 🎲 (@dmofengineering) November 17, 2022

Go check out that tweet thread. It’s full of Twitter Employees saying goodbye after the hardcore time limit expired.

It’s a sad day for the social network. How long will it stay up?

[elf-osamu]

Hii uhh actually it's my first time go to asking box actually.. idk if there anyone request you this but can i request for dazai, chuuya, akutagawa and atsushi react to s/o who are kpopers and accidentally saw their s/o dancing to one of their favourite kpop song?? HSHSHSHSH sorry for my English 😓😓

hey ty for requesting <3 this request was so fun to write 😭😭 and, coincidentally, i was recently introduced to k-pop !! don't worry about your english, it's not a problem for me <3. anyway, hope you like it !

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I DIDN'T KNOW YOU DANCED SO AMIABLY, LOVE”

[ masterlist ] [ reblogs are v v v appreciated !! ]

fluff, a bit of angst in osamu's and atsushi's ones, romantic relationship, osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, ryuunosuke akutagawa and atsushi nakajima (separately) x gn!reader

warning(s) : slight cursing in osamu's one-shot by the end of it, not really proofread.

words count : 1,924 words

plot : “what are their reactions if they accidentally find you dancing at the rhythm of a k-pop song?”

OSAMU DAZAI :

[ ☆ ] the music genre k-pop, from what i've read, is pretty popular in japan.

[ ☆ ] thus, this man would surely know a thing or two about it, as he does with everything.

osamu was working in his study, wearing his usual black headphones and reading the information about a new case; it was rare to have moments like this, where he could do his job at home, but when he managed to achieve them his heart pumped with glee.

he loved working at the agency, he truly did, but sometimes the effort of getting up every day and going to work... crushed him.

after some time passed, it was about two hours, he glanced at the small clock on his desk.

habitually, when he was busy with work and stuff, you visited him in that room and checked in with him, though this time you didn't show up. that would have been absolutely normal per usual, however osamu couldn't help but worry a little.

no, it wasn't even worry: as osamu admitted to himself, it was just a case of vapid confusion; nothing positive, nothing negative, only a neutral matter.

with a soft sigh escaping from his lips, dazai took off his headphones and stretched lazily his arms.

now, without the presence of the earphones, he could hear a lively tune coming from outside his study.

he couldn't grasp well the melody at that distance, thus he got up and proceeded to walk in the music's direction. it accompanied him to the living room, where a rather peculiar situation was presented to him.

the tv was on, playing a music video of some singers (who were also dancers, osamu deduced) he didn't know about. and, in the middle of the room, there was you, freely dancing along the rhythm of the song. dazai never saw you being so joyful about something of the sorts, and he couldn't help but smile at your figure.

when the song came to an end, you turned and almost screamed at the sight of your boyfriend standing a few steps behind you.

“osamu, the fuck. how long have you been there? you scared the shit out of me.” you gritted your teeth, attempting to seem confident in your posture while trying not to think at how much you embarassed yourself just now.

“enough to say that you can dance quite well, my dear.”

[ ☆ ] dazai loves discovering new things. therefore, he would ask you questions about k-pop and so on, wanting to amplify his knowledge on the topic.

[ ☆ ] also, he would annoy you so much until you would teach him at least one choreographies. there's no possibility of escape.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA :

[ ☆ ] he's absolutely in love with music, in all its forms.

[ ☆ ] of course he knows about k-pop, what did you expect?

[ ☆ ] he would be really content to share one of his interests with someone, especially if said someone is you.

that was a rough day for chuuya and the only thing he wished to do was spending time with his partner, you. the mission he just accomplished had been exhausting, it truly drained his energies.

the night sky was tinted with a dark shade of blue, alongside small lights representing planets and stars. unfortunately, living in the city didn't often allow the sight of that splendid wonder, nakahara thought with a soft grin.

even though he usually came to your apartment by means of his special ability, this time he decided — also because of his tiredness — to walk there. the night sky could have been admired for a while longer.

when he entered in your shared apartment, he announced himself saying out loud “[name], i'm home!” as he always did.

however, this time, nakahara wasn't greeted with your presence but with a profound silence.

perhaps they are already asleep?

while he was walking over to your bedroom, he heard a continuous sound from said room, similar to a song.

“what the hell—” he muttered and opened the door.

chuuya stood for a moment — a long moment — dazed. you were dancing while listening to a song from a k-pop band he did know about, quite well in fact.

they got moves, huh, he thought, his heart smiling, while his chest was warming at the sight of you being so happy.

he cleared his throat to make sure you were aware of his presence; needless to say, you suddenly stopped dancing, pausing the song, feeling more awkward than usual.

nakahara approached you, standing in front of you.

“i didn't know you liked k-pop,” he stated while a grin was making its way to his face, seeing your reaction.

your hand landed on the back of your neck, feeling embarassed and expecting to be made fun of, however...

“may i join you, my love?”, chuuya asked for a dance, offering his gloved hand to yours, his eyes showing a glint of genuine interest.

well, his tiredness seemed to be disappeared.

[ ☆ ] LET HIM SING !! he loves it <3.

[ ☆ ] from this moment on, you two will talk about music more often than usual.

[ ☆ ] and !! he !! is !! so !! happy !! about !! this !!

[ ☆ ] he'd also buy you k-pop merch !

RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA :

[ ☆ ] he doesn't know much about the topic.

[ ☆ ] well, in fact, he knows absolutely nothing.

[ ☆ ] maybe, if gin listens to it, ryū would know a fun fact or two about a specific group, perhaps also a few choreographies. if not, well, he would be quite confused by your dancing.

ryuunosuke akutagawa wasn't someone with much free time. indeed, he spent most of his days fighting for his organization and improving his physical strenght, without being able to focus his mind elsewhere. not that it really mattered, to him.

the only people who could stop his reckless behaviour, which greatly damaged his health, and actually let him peacefully rest were his sister and you. gin was his sibling, his sole family member, but ryū was beginning to think that perhaps you too could have had a place in his heart.

the few times he didn't work, ryuunosuke spent most of his time with gin; being the elder brother he was, he made sure she was fine, medicating any possible wounds.

other days, he'd come to visit you at your house, with a bunch of groceries he and gin had bought beforehand, specifically for you.

that was one of those days.

initially, although he had a copy of the keys to your apartment, ryū rang the intercom to announce his presence. he received no reply.

with a suspire leaving his mouth, he opened the door and entered in your hallway.

ryuunosuke had not imagined that a door could hide a song's blasting sound; his ears could only sense the music, nothing else. with his usual soft step, he followed the pleasant noise to discover its origin.

saying that ryū was surprised would've been an understatement.

he wouldn't have ever expected to find you dancing amiably at the rhythm of a song. he was at a loss for words; not in a bad way, just straight-up confused. he never imagined you had this as an interest of yours.

when the song finished, you sat on the couch and wiped the sweat from your forehead.

“so, this is what you do in your own free time,” a cough escaped ryū's lips, making you jolt in surprise.

after hearing your partner's voice, your hands went to cover your face, hoping to dispel your embarassment while ryuunosuke sat next to you.

“c'mon, don't be shy now. they are [group name], aren't they?”

[ ☆ ] he would be willing to listen to your ramblings about them !! (though he wouldn't always admit it out loud).

[ ☆ ] also he'd secretly try to learn the choreographies watching your moves.

[ ☆ ] “secretly” hell nah his intentions are quite obvious but he'd deny it.

[ ☆ ] ryū would ask gin about k-pop and then impress you with his knowledge (again, he wouldn't admit it).

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA :

[ ☆ ] he doesn't know much about k-pop, but he'd be curious about it !!

atsushi woke up from his profound sleep, lazily rubbing his eyes.

working at the agency was quite exhausting due to the many cases they had to solve in little time, this sometimes resulting in increased stress for its workers. because of it, sleeping in the afternoon hours had become a habit for him, a habit that he quietly appreciated.

the young man checked his phone and almost screamed at the sight of the day and hour: today you should have come to his place to spend time together! how could he have forgotten it?

to his dismay, you didn't leave any texts nor calls about the situation. atsushi sighed, internally panicking.

did they leave because i didn't respond to the intercom?

he got up and headed to the bathroom, with a bunch of new clothes, to fix himself.

gosh, he felt terrible for having overslept. however, now not much could be done about it.

when nakajima finished, he went to the living room to call your number and apologise for his behaviour, hoping that you'd give him an occasion to make up for this awful situation.

being still sleepy, he managed to not hear a song being played at a quite high volume; and well, he also managed to not sense your presence despite his special ability, beast beneath the moonlight, until this very moment.

atsushi was still a little dazed, but he could clearly see you dancing (quite well, in his opinion) to the rhythm of the music. he almost felt like he violated your personal space, being part of a moment where you seemed so free. because of this, he remained silent while a small grin appeared on his angelic face.

ultimately, the song came to an end and you sat on the couch, exhausted. it just so happened that you hadn't noticed him too.

“it was a k-pop song, wasn't it?” he softly asked, not wanting to upset nor frighten you with his sudden voice, and sitting next to you. “my apologies for having slept too much, i'll make it up for next time.”

you glanced at your boyfriend, giving him a smile. “no problem, really. and yes, it was a k-pop song.”

“you danced so nicely...” he shyly mumbled, his cheeks turning red while his hands played with the hem of his shirt.

you left a kiss on his forehead. “we can dance together next time!”

“i wouldn't say i'm a dancer...”

“you don't have to be a dancer to dance. at the end of the day, everyone dances differently,” you stated, playing with a strand of his hair.

a few minutes passed in a comfortable silence.

“may i ask a question?” atsushi muttered.

“go ahead!”

“how did you manage to enter in my apartment?”

you looked at him, then grinned. “you gave me a copy of your keys, dork.”

both of you laughed.

[ ☆ ] i hc atsushi as a person who loves listening to people speaking about their interests ! so he'd be so happy to learn new things from your knowledge about k-pop.

[ ☆ ] ^ his gaze would be full of love and admiration <3.

[ ☆ ] atsushi would love to learn the choreographies!! imo he loves dancing.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. ) 

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin? 

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging. 

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel. 

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead. 

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

[king-bito]

Vanta Black is a butt

I’m sorry, this is my first Drabble or whatever this is, I didn’t proof read it, I don’t really know what my intention was here.. I’m not a writer, I do digital art, but there’s so little Shihai smut out there I thought I would add my bad writing to the small pile xD

I’m SO SORRY.

Pairing: Shihai Kuroiro x Reader

Characters are in their mid twenties.

Rating: Explicit

MINORS DO NOT INTERRACT

Warnings: Dub-Con, Predator/Prey Dynamic, Quirk use, Smut

It’s been a long day, it’s 10pm and you just exited the cinema alone, your friend, who decided to make the whole movie about kissing, making out, and blowing their newly acquired boyfriend, ditched you early in favour of going home with him.

Oh how wonderful it felt to be a third wheel. You’d resigned and accepted your fate, opting to take your time, grabbing a coffee at concession before leaving.

It’s Friday night and there’s still a buzz of nightlife, just barely starting to pick up. Luckily you lived nearby so you wouldn’t have to suffer atrocious cab fares, and the awkward conversations that you always felt cornered into.

You take a deep breath, finishing off the last of your beverage and tossing it into the trash and beginning your walk home, pulling together your jacket to ward off the cold bite of the night air.

————

It’s only 2 blocks from your apartment when you hear what sounds like distressed meows coming from a dark alley. Was it a cat? Fuck, it’s too cold on a night like this to just ignore it. You aren’t the bravest person, and dimly lit alleyways threw up about a dozen warning signals, but these small, infantile kitten meows had you falter and pause.

Biting your lip, you decide to suck it up. You can’t abandon a little kitty out here..

Oh how wonderfully gullible you are.

As you near a filthy dumpster with so many tags on it you can’t even make out a single letter, a cold breeze makes you shiver, it travels up your spine making you feel unsettled. For some reason the meows stopped when you began to enter the alley, and as you pull your arms around yourself for comfort to try and quell the fear, you peer around some stray boxes and trash bags, hoping to locate the abandoned animal.

You let out a gasp as something moves, you suppress a scream and tumble back against the brick wall, panting, heart beating rapidly.

There is nothing.

You swallow, you must have imagined it right?

Suddenly you feel something warm grab your wrists from behind, instinctively you try to pull forward but whatever is holding you is like a vice. Looking down you see pitch black hands wrapped firmly around your dainty wrists and then a low, whispering voice hits your ear.

“Hello little mousy~” Out from the dark brick behind you, a mans face with charcoal pigmented skin is pushing out from the darkness, his deep, dangerous tone terrifying and a little too provocative. Your first reaction is to bolt, and as you yank yourself away (purely at the mercy of this strange man in a wall letting your wrists go), you fall to the ground, turning to back yourself up against the opposite wall, resting on your now scraped palms. “W-what the hell?!” You stammer, taking in the sight before you.

Oh how cute.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, hoping to draw the attention of someone, anyone, nearby.

...

A deep chuckle cuts through the cold silence between you, and you watch as the head moves forward, more of his body emerging from the wall, and now, you get the chance to fully drink in his features. He’s handsome, well, what little you can make out in the low light against impossibly dark skin. His eyes are hooded and seductive, they study you with each breath you take. His lips are lightly pursed into a small smirk, they look perfect on his sharp jawline. His face is framed by a mop of thick silver hair that flicks out in an unruly manner over his cheeks and the back of his neck. The man is clad in a black coat, grey denim jeans, and a low cut v-neck tee, where you can make out his defined collarbones disappearing beneath the lapels of his long coat.

“Aww.. did I scare the poor little thing?” The man coos out gently, and the twisted smile he wears tells you very clearly this was all just fun cruelty to him.

“O-Of course you did! Who the fuck does tha-“

“Shihai” he interrupts you.

“What?”

“My name is Shihai Kuroiro, but you may call me Kuro.”

“I don’t give a damn what your name is.” You blurt out, getting yourself back to your feet and pressing yourself against the cold brick as if it would get you any further away from this..thing.

“You should. You will. Pretty thing like you couldn’t help but come to the pitiful little meows of a kitten, you didn’t even think, did you?”

“I-I…”

“I’m not even very good at making those sounds.. and yet you wandered all the way down an unlit alley, where oh, I don’t know…” Shihai steps forward and places his palms either side of your shoulders. He’s taller than you, lean, but sturdy in build, and his every languid movement was filled with its own strength and purpose. “...anyone could take advantage of you."

"I saw you in the cinema," He continued."you and your so called friend, she certainly had a good time, didn’t she?” He muses, leaning down so his wild grey-ish locks tickle your temple, his breath fanning over your neck as he spoke.

You can’t help but go red at the closeness, there was no doubt he was hot, he was very much your type and when was the last time you had a good fuck? Too long, that was for sure. But this guy was being a real creep! Not to mention scaring you half to death like some sort of twisted predator…

“Such a shame they didn’t invite you along with them.. then again, if they had, I wouldn’t have been able to get you alone like this… so cute, so flushed.. and my.. so easy.” He growls darkly, carding his fingers through your hair, and slowly curling his hand into a fist to grab a handful and yank gently. “Have some fun with me…” You knew this wasn’t an offer, but an inevitable demand, and against your quickly disappearing better judgement, you nodded meekly. Fuck it.

———————

The next few minutes are a blur, as you find yourself naked beneath Shihai, panting and mewling as his mouth works your nipple, sucking and nibbling while his hand massages and kneads your other breast. “K-...Kuro…” You gasp, arching your back and grabbing a fistful of his hair. You throw your head back and pant to the pulsing in your core, deft fingers of Shihai’s free hand thrusting in and out of you while curling them expertly.

The man is ravenous as he attacks that spongey spot inside you, his mouth hotly working up your neck and leaving an all manner of marks in his wake. You let out a guttural moan, writhing underneath his frame, pressing your chest to his and rocking your hips against his fingers, chasing your orgasm like a woman starved.

So Shameless

You weren’t quite sure how he got you to this room so quickly from the city street, no doubt it had to be some weird quirk that came with his abnormal allearance but you were hardly complaining once he stripped you, and himself down and practically threw you onto the bed to jump you.

“So beautiful.. so good for me, little mouse…” he coos, growling shortly after as he notices your body giving him telltale signs of your impending release. “Kuro.. please.. I-I’m..” You whine loudly as he pulls his fingers out of you abruptly, ceasing his administrations in full and repositioning himself above you. “Uh-uh-uh..~” Shihai keens, tutting before capturing your mouth in a lust filled kiss and pressing his tongue to your lips, demanding access. Your pitiful whine of protest offers him the perfect opening as he slides his tongue into your mouth and dominates you entirely, a free hand pushing your hips down to stop your pitiful bucking. “Mmmphhh~” You moan into his mouth, running your hands up and down his chest and ribs, feeling the muscles move and tense and admiring each contraction as he moves to line himself up.

“You only get to cum on my dick, understand~?” His voice is smooth like butter when he breaks the kiss, bringing his hand up to lick your ample juices from his fingers in a lewd display. He nearly moans when he tastes you, eyes fluttering closed as he savours your taste, slowly and teasingly sucking every digit clean. “Oh.. so delicious, little one. I’ll be sure to clean you up properly when we’re done…” He grins, sliding his tongue out of his mouth provocatively, causing you to whimper.

It’s only when you feel his hips move do you realise he had slowly been lining himself up with your dripping entrance, rolling them to push the tip of his leaking cock into your stretched hole, the movement drawing a long, loud moan from you. Fuck, you didn’t even get a good look at it in the heat of things, but fuck if it didn’t feel massive as it slowly stretches you out around the sheer girth.

Shihai hums contently, clearly holding back his sounds in favour of composure and control as he slowly, smoothly, sheaths himself into your heat. The stretch hurts, and is taking a little too long to grow accustomed to as you look up at the stunningly biz are creature above you. You raise a hand to his cheek, admiring his smooth warm skin and slight changes in shade as he grows hotter and hotter from the workout, and you offer the first gentle touch of the night to him, as re-assurance he can move, yes, but also an attempt to connect, and as his eyes dart to you’s, you swear you could see his cheeks reddening a little.

Shihai shakes his head and lowers himself down to bite and nibble at your neck, slowly beginning to rock his hips back and forth. “So.. so tight, you really are a sweet little thing aren’t you” he manages between thrusts that grow in intensity. “Fuck, you’re practically sucking me in, beautiful.” he grunts, a shudder racking his spine as you continue to touch him tenderly.

“A-ahmmm… Kuro!” You groan, breaths becoming an uneven pant, you lean back to give him better access to your neck and guide his hand up to your breast again as you start to move your hips in time with his, lifting your knees to let him hit deeper and deeper inside of you. “I wanna… mmmmphhhh! Shit.. I need to…” you feel the tightness building in your stomach.

The pace quickens and the new angle has him hitting that perfect spot inside of you. He’s bracing himself on one hand, and with his other, he’s squeezing and gently teasing your pebbled nipple beneath his fingertips.

“Hahn… gonna cum? Go on… you can do it. Cum all over my cock.”

You throw your head back again and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust until your walls clench and contract around his dick, making it twitch and pulse as you both reach your high, coming undone at once.

—————————-

Kuroiro takes surprisingly good care of you after multiple rounds of intense orgasms, he cleans you up with a warm damp cloth, feeds you, and gives you water before you damn near pass out in his bed. As he settles in beside you, scooting up to try and make you roll over so he can spoon you, you reach up to cup his cheek in your hand, your sleepy expression sweet and lazy. “...You’re still a creep..” You murmur gently, causing him to look at you with a little shock. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but you cut him off before he can get a stupid cocky remark in. “...but this was amazing. Do you think next time we could start…. with an actual date?”

His mouth opens again, this time he’s speechless. “Wait.. r-really? You’d.. you’d like to…?”

“Shhhh…” you nod, smiling gently as you roll over and shuffle back into him.

What you’re too tired to notice, is the heat coming from his cheeks, ears, and neck. Shit, he thought if he could just remain in control he wouldn’t become a stammering blushing mess. You weren’t supposed to like him! Nor ask him out!

But you had to be a cute little sweetheart and flip the tables on his plan.

[thedeadhandofseldon]

The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and  worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

[oogaboogasphincter]

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break. 

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting​ and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic​. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian​

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?” 

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being. 

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.” 

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.” 

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies. 

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.” 

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you. 

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study. 

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced. 

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left. 

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts. 

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt. 

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out. 

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.” 

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester. 

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​, @mellowswriting​

[multific]

Beyond Houses

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: You had enough of the labels! Why can’t your best friend be a Hufflepuff, and why can’t you be madly in love with a certain ginger Gryffindor? 

A/N: GIF’s not mine, credit goes to its owner.

When your studies at Hogwarts began, you actually quite liked the idea of the four houses. They gave a nice aesthetic and you were sure you were in the company of people whom were similar to you.

However as the years passed you began to notice a few things.

You made friends easily, one girl, Nora who was in Hufflepuff was very close to you. You and her always went to classes together and had a lot of fun.

However when other people in Slytherin noticed you hanging out with her, they behaved like she was the enemy. You couldn’t understand why.

“Slytherin are too good for Hufflepuff.” one of the boys said.

From that day on, you hated the group. They were worse than Malfoy. Thinking they were all mighty and great because of the colours they wore and house they were in.

Little do they know that in the outside word, Hogwarts houses mean nothing.

Of course, you continued being friends with Nora. You chose your friend and would do that again.

The group however didn’t like that you ignored their warnings. In just about a few days, every person in Slytherin treated you like an outsider.

But they didn’t break you.

You were proud to be a Slytherin, however you didn’t want to be like them, close-minded. 

But the biggest shock to you was when you realized that it wasn’t just that group, other houses were the same. Gryffindor didn’t like to hang out with Slytherin, a girl rejected a boy because he was in Slytherin while she was in Ravenclaw. 

Of course, there were people who didn’t care about that. Thankfully, those were the majority, however those other cases truly confused you.

And then, it happened to you.

Your eyes were caught by a certain red-head in the Great Hall. Both you and Fred were in year six at the time. The first spark, and it ignited a fire in you.

Nora was thrilled that you finally had a crush. She thought you might not be interested in dating, so when this happened, she already had five plans on how to get you and Fred together.

Especially since it was the Triwizard Tournament, the opportunities were endless.

The only real problem was his twin, George, who was always with him.

“My plan is bullet proof, Y/N. I bet by the end he will even ask you to the dance!” she said, clearly super excited. “All we need now is to get George out of the way. I will ask him to come with me and help me with something and in the meantime, you go over there and score! Now, which one is which?” Nora asked as she looked at you.

You looked over to the two guys who were talking on a bench.

“Fred is on the right, George is on the left.” you didn’t know how, but you could tell them apart, it was a skill you were proud of. You trusted Nora, and you were sitting on your crush for months now, so it was time to act.

Nora easily got George away. Although Fred did try and go with her, she refused. So, there he was sitting on the bench alone, waiting for his brother to come back. 

It was your time to shine.

You let out a long sigh and walked out from behind the pillar, making it look like you just came around the corner. You took the steps down, however slipped on the last.

You tried to keep your balance, but you ended up falling. You were more surprised and embarrassed than hurt. 

“Are you okay?” you head Fred’s voice as he grabbed your arm and helped you up.

“I’m fine, thank you. These damn stairs are so slippery.” you said looking up at him. He laughed a little and helped you to sit on a bench.

“Well, yeah. During our first year George fell too. Thankfully you weren’t hurt.”

“Yeah. Speaking of which, where is your other half?”

“Oh, he went to help Nora with something. She said something about needing someone tall.”

“I see. So, you are all alone? If you want to we could go and have something to eat?” you didn’t know where the courage came from to ask him, but you did.

However the grimace he made, told you everything you needed to know. He will make up an excuse.

“Sorry, but I rather wait for George, I said I would be here.”

“Oh, no problem. Maybe another time?” This is when you noticed people coming and he stood up very quickly.

“Another time.” he said to you before he rushed to sit two benches away from you.

You were completely rejected, and you knew why. It wasn’t you, it was your house.

“I though you would be different you know.” you said a bit louder as you looked at him once the people have passed. You didn’t want to give them a show. Fred looked at you with round eyes. “Everyone is so judgmental, I thought you would be better. You rejected my idea because I’m Slytherin right?” Fred’s mouth opened but no sound came out. “It’s okay, I know I’m the idiot here. Having a crush on a Gryffindor... I just...Ugh, forget it,” you said as you stood up and left. You rushed back to your room and stayed in bed all day.

***

The fact that you were rejected hurt.

It hurt more than you thought it would. You hoped that Fred would see more than just houses. You hoped that he would see you and not Slytherin. Unfortunately, you were wrong.

You didn’t want to leave your room the next day, but you knew better than to not attend Snape’s class.

The whole day went on normal, you ignored everyone especially Fred as you and Nora enjoyed the day.

“We should go shopping. A new store opened at Hogsmeade and I saw some amazing new scarf and thing!”

“Sounds fun.” you said as you two left. You were unaware of a certain boy’s eyes that followed you, filled with regret. 

***

You had an amazing afternoon with Nora.

“The Ball is tomorrow! Can you believe it! I still can’t believe Steve asked me!” Steve was a Ravenclaw, very smart guy, one of the people who didn’t care about houses and he obviously had a crush on Nora for a long time now.  Meanwhile you will go with a fellow Slytherin guy who asked you out just today. 

You decided that this Yule Ball was the worst possible thing you ever participated in.

As it turned out, the guy who asked you to go with him wanted you to go with him so his ex would get jealous, not because he liked you. And in addition, you got to see everyone having fun, while you sat in the corner of the room, mopping.

Well, at least Nora was having an amazing time. 

Just as you decided to go back to your room, your eyes locked with Fred’s. It was only a second before you looked away and stood up. Just as you did, Hermione rushed out of the room, sobbing. You looked back, but no one was following him.

You found her on the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” you asked, “Silly questions, sorry. Look, I don’t know who broke your heart. But, my grandma always told me not to cry over any man. They are not worth it, the only man who worth the tears is the one you will call, son.” you offered her a kind simple before heading up the stairs. 

“Y/N,” you heard your name being yelled. You recognized the voice and against your better judgement, you stopped and looked at Fred.

“Hi Fred,” you said looking right into his eyes.

“I realize I behaved like a bloody moron the last time we spoke. It was just like you said. But I should know better that to judge people like that. You opened my eyes, I would like to apologize and to ask you on a date.”

You weren’t expecting him to be so upfront about this. But you sure didn’t mind that he wasn’t wasting your time. 

“Umm. I don’t know if I should believe you. Is this a prank?” you asked looking around, trying to see if anyone was there but the hallway was empty besides you and Fred.

“No, no prank. I’m serious. And before you think I’m only doing this to help my guilt, yeah, partially, but I also do like you. I had a crush on you since second year.”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see if he was joking or not, but you decided to give him a chance.

“Fine. Tomorrow, meet me at the Great Hall, let’s have lunch together.”

“Perfect! Thank you so much.” he rushed and gave you a hug. He tried to pull back but you didn’t let him go. This is when you noticed just how much taller he was compared to you.

After a few minutes he started swaying the two of you, the music from the Ball could be heard faintly.

“You are beautiful in this dress.”

“You don’t look too bad either.” you said with a smile and a little blush, still swaying in his arms as you hugged his torso, listening to his heart beat.

This was the exact moment you could finally feel free, free of houses, free of labels and in love.

You just knew, finally your life can begin, with Fred Weasley.

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