#but 3 you just learned of it too so what gives you the authority on this?

[iamasaddie]

tired

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist

Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 

Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 

That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.

You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.

“Hey, Joel, long night?” 

Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.

You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 

“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.

“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“

“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”

He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.

“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”

You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”

He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 

Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 

“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 

“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 

“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”

You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 

You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.

“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.

“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 

When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.

“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”

Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.

"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”

Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.

As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”

Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.

His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.

“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 

You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.

“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.

When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.

Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.

“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.

Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.

Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.

One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.

The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.

“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 

The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.

Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.

His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.

“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.

“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.

Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.

“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you

[jeannineee]

coming up lavender, part three

cassian x reader x azriel

part one part two

author’s note: part three!!! comment to be added to taglist <3

summary: reader tries to hone her abilities. cassian is down bad. azriel is too, but he acts like azriel.

warnings: suggestiveness!! this is an 18+ series.

“I can’t do it.”

Scowl, rise to your feet. Glare at Rhysand, picture of indifference, if not a little amused.

“You’ve been trying for all of thirty minutes. You’ll have to work at it.”

Cross your arms over your chest, avoid his gaze as you make your way across the room to pour a glass of water. "My power isn't summoned on command. It surfaces when I feel any strong emotion. I learned that a long time ago."

Rhys sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think you're wrong. I think you're scared--"

Your whirl on him, seething. "I am not scared."

He holds his hands up, body tense as his violet eyes dart between your face and your hands. You follow his eyes, face heating as you notice your fists, encased in swirls of purple energy.

Sigh and murmur an apology as you force your power away. "I didn't mean--"

"I know."

"I just--I know my power. I don't think it will work the way you want it to."

Rhys nods. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Offer him a grateful smile, toy with your thumbs as you gather what little courage remains within you. "Can I--will I be able to leave the House soon?"

Rhys pauses in the doorway. "You haven't made much progress. It's been almost three weeks."

"I know that," you reply, picking nervously at your nails. "I just--I need out."

He ponders, remaining still for so long you almost consider relenting.

"I'll permit you to explore the city."

Your heart leaps out of your chest. "Thank you--"

"But you will need an escort. Myself or my inner circle. Whoever is available any time you want to leave."

Bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm not dangerous, Rhysand."

"You are. More than you know. But I'm not requiring you to have an escort solely because of that."

"Then why?"

"If our enemies knew of your power, they would stop at nothing to take it."

Take you, is the part he didn't say aloud.

"I don't understand."

"My inner circle are having dinner at my townhouse tomorrow night. We'll explain everything to you then," Rhys pauses, as if having a silent conversation with himself--no, with someone else. "For now, enjoy Velaris. My home is yours."

~~~

"You're my escort?"

Cassian sports a shit-eating grin as he approaches you. "Sure am. Who better to show you around?"

Close your eyes and sigh. "Fine." You step forward, place your hand on his bicep. Try not to notice how large it is. When you don't notice a change in the environment, your eyes open again, to be met with a confused Cassian.

"I'm more than happy to let you touch me, but I am curious as to why...?"

Groan and drop your hand. "Aren't we supposed to winnow?"

"Winnow?" Cassian barks a laugh. "No. I can't winnow. We're flying."

"We're what?"

"You heard me, sweetheart."

Glance down to the city. The very far away city. A couple thousand feet below. "I don't like heights."

"That's tough," Cassian says from behind you. "But it's flying, or climbing down ten thousand steps."

Loose a shaky breath. "You better not drop me."

A wide grin. "Didn't you feel my arm? I could bench press you for hours and not get tired."

Your cheeks flush. "Let's just get on with it. We don't have all day."

A chuckle from Cassian, and he places one arm behind your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you with ease. "Bossy. I like it."

He doesn't give you the dignity of a response before launching into the air. You bury your face in his chest on instinct, noting the way the wind whistles in your ears. The air is chill enough that you find yourself grateful for his warmth, trying ever-so-subtly to lean into his touch.

"Cold?" Cassian questions, grip tightening a bit.

So much for subtle.

"Just a little."

"You should look."

"Absolutely not."

Cassian scoffs. "I won't drop you. You're safe. Just look."

You slowly, very slowly turn your head, audibly gasping as you take in the view around you. Snow-capped mountains in the distance, a winding river leading into the sea, surrounded by countless ships and houses and people. So many people. "Oh, wow."

"I know," Cassian's breath fans against your ear, and you turn, only to find him staring at you, rather than the view.

Clear your throat as your face burns, remnants of that strange ache in your chest returning as you ask, "You've lived here your whole life--in Velaris?"

"Mostly. I've spent plenty of time in Illyria, though."

"I've heard it's brutal."

Cassian nods. "Not so different from your Court of Nightmares."

You study each other for a moment; some sort of unspoken understanding passing between you, before forcing your attention back to the scenic view; stomach dropping a bit as Cassian begins descending.

~~~

“That’s the best food I’ve had in a while,” you tell Cassian as you sit back in your chair, so full you’re fairly certain your stomach will burst.

Cassian hums and nods; speaking over a mouthful of food. “Told you so. Nothing like it.”

You sigh, tilt your head back. Grateful for the outdoor table; the sun in your face, warming your skin. Grateful for the salt-kissed air filling your lungs. Grateful for things you never thought you’d have.

“Doing alright?”

Cassian’s voice startles you from your thoughts, and you sit up, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah. Just contemplating.”

He arches a brow, silently urging you to continue.

“I never had…anything like this, back…” you swallow thickly, words caught in your throat, “…back home, if you can call it that. This is all new to me.” Fold your hands in your lap and pick at your nails; avert your eyes. "Nature, people, community...”

The silence stretches long enough that you begin to wonder if you've said too much.

"I slept outside, the first several years of my childhood. Not even in a tent. Outside. On the ground."

You meet his eyes, feeling a pull so strong you lose your breath. "I--I'm so sorry."

Cassian smiles halfheartedly, and continues, "I didn't know true kindness until I met Rhys. He was an ass, but the first real friend I had. My point is--I understand, how everything feels foreign."

“Like I don’t belong,” you mutter quietly.

“That will go away too, with time,” he says, before rising from his chair and holding a hand out to you. “If you’re ready, we can head back to the House.”

Slowly take his calloused hand, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you do so. “Lead the way.”

~~~

“Careful,” Cassian murmurs gently as he helps you settle after landing back at the House of Wind. “Didn’t realize you were so clumsy.”

Roll your eyes. “We’ve been walking around all day. My feet are bound to hurt.”

Cassian grins. “I’d be more than happy to carry you.”

You laugh, unamused as you turn on your heel. “Unnecessary, but thank—”

You trip over your own foot and curse, prepared to eat the floor, but Cassian grabs you, settling you upright. You lock eyes, face burning with embarrassment.

Cassian arches a brow. “You were saying…?”

“I was saying…” breath catches as you realize his hands are still on your waist, but you make no move to stop him. “I was saying that carrying me is unnecessary, though i’m sure you’d jump at the opportunity to show off—”

This time, you’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours. You tense at first in shock, but melt into him as though you’d kissed him a thousand times before. Stifle a whimper as his tongue dances with yours, still tasting of wine.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed when Cassian pulls away. His eyes search yours, almost worried. “Are you okay? I probably should have asked first—I didn’t think—”

You smile. “I’m fine. More than.”

~~~

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to cease your racing thoughts. Those of your powers, of the consequences of leaving the Hewn City. But the main concern that won’t leave you:

Who are the Night Court’s enemies, and why were you relevant to them?

See a shadow out of the corner of your eye, and scoff as you sit up. It swirls around the foot of your bed; observing.

“Tell your master he doesn’t need to spy on me. No evil plots coming from me.”

The shadow remains. In your head, you hear a question: Are you alright?

“I’m fine. Get out of my head.”

The shadow leaves your room, though you still have the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, it gives you some level of comfort. But as you near the brink of sleep, you can’t rid yourself of the impending doom; the sense that the worst is yet to come.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @marina468 @cherry-cin @sevikas-whore @tequilya @nickishadow139 @thatacotargirl @skylarkalchemist @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams @esposadomd @aelincaddel @sharknutz @pruvii

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #azriel angst #cassian angst #azriel x cassian x reader #cassian x azriel x reader #acotar angst #cassian smut #azriel smut #cazriel x reader #coming up lavender

[cainite-bite]

sometimes i just look at someone’s ignorant postings where they go “why isnt it common knowledge that -blank-” and just... deeply fuckin sigh because they clearly lived under a rock so damn badly that they have pretended it was normal, when in fact what they are talking about is such fucking common knowledge (that they still don’t even understand the half of yet even) and it was them that was the fuckin dumbass this entire time

#i know i am not the smartest tool in the shed either #but their comes a point where you have to stop pretending your experience is the universal one #and you have got to stop crucifying others for you thinking they don't know something that you only recently found out #because 1 even if they were ignorant that doesn't make them evil #2 you have got to stop projecting your issues onto others #but 3 you just learned of it too so what gives you the authority on this? #especially the part where you just shit on everyone else for the ignorance you perceived onto them for no damn reason

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

#writer prompts #otp prompts #dialogue prompts #imagine your otp #writeblr #writing prompts #urfriendlywriter #writing inspiration #angsty dialouge prompts #angsty romance prompts #angst starter #angst prompts #angsty prompts #how to write #how to write angst #writing tips #writing inspo #writing ideas #tips to write angst #asks are open #otp drabble prompts #writing drabble #drabble ideas #writing #prompts #prompt list #otp dialogue #otp writing #otp things #otp ideas

[lucyrose191]

BROKEN DECISIONS: HEALING| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Toto Wolff x fem!Schumacher!reader

Summary; You had learned to channel the pain from Toto’s actions into the need to protect and love your child. You were healing but will that be affected by Toto finding out the reason you suddenly disappeared?

Warnings; Age gap mentioned but not specified. Fluff.

Author’s Note; I know I said I’d post a Seb fic before this but this was so much easier to write and I had a lot more motivation for this. Possibly a part 3 if you want.

F1 Master List, Part 1

September 2024

The pain that had consumed you so overwhelmingly all those months ago had seemingly disappeared as you stared down at your daughter who lay in your lap, eyes closed as she slept peacefully, subtle puffs of air released as her chest raised every few seconds.

The thick tufts of bright white hair that sprouted from her head marked that little Alina Elisabeth was most certainly a Schumacher.

Maybe you should feel guilty for the relief that settled in you at the lack of resemblance she shared with her father but the love you felt in your heart as you stared down at the person you cared the most for in this world shrouded any negative emotion you could possibly feel.

The loneliness you had felt was also no longer lingering in your chest, your family had been your rock since the moment you arrived in Switzerland, your mother especially. Mick ensured her was there for you too, even though he was busy with the world endurance racing, he made sure he called frequently and tried to visit when he could.

You sent him a photo of his new niece as soon as you could after giving birth to her and he was already besotted and excited to meet her.

The pain from birthing her had also long been forgotten, unlike the memory of holding her for the first time.

It was hard to describe the rush of emotions that were bursting beneath your skin. You would go to hell and back again if just to experience this for the rest of your life, to continue living in this bubble of warmth and completion.

There was the slightest bit of lingering sadness towards the knowledge that Toto hadn’t been by your side yesterday and witnessing his daughter being brought into the world, maybe it was even unfair that he had been robbed of that opportunity but then you remembered how you had tried to tell him the news of your pregnancy before you left and how he refused to listen.

You weren’t going to beg and plead for him to listen to what you had to say, no matter what there news was.

You had a lot more respect for yourself than that.

It didn’t matter anyways, you didn’t need him and you’d ensure that Alina didn’t need him either. You have full confidence in your ability to raise her alone and give her the best life she could possibly have, a life that would provide her with opportunities others could only imagine having.

November 2024

Alina Elisabeth Schumacher was now two months old and each day it felt as though your love for her multiplied.

Even through the rough patches where you seemed lost in knowing what she needed or what was wrong, it didn’t deter you in the slightest. You had smiled more in the last two months than you had in the last ten years and it felt riveting.

Never would you have thought that a child could fill a gap in your life that you didn’t even know existed but here she is and your heart is full.

Your life felt whole and complete and you owed everything to her, to your little girl who had fixed your healing heart without even trying, just by simply existing.

Today was an important day, Mick was coming home after finishing the world endurance season, which he had performed amazingly in, and it was going to be his first time meeting his niece in person.

You had FaceTimed so much in the last few months, Mick hadn’t wanted to miss any part of his niece growing and so every night at around six he’d ring so that he could say goodnight to her, no matter what time is was where he was at.

Alina loved her uncle already.

It was around 2pm when you heard the front door open followed by the sound of bags dropping to the floor and Mick walking into the kitchen.

You didn’t waste any time in wrapping him into a hug. "Hey, how are you?"

Mick tucked his head into the crook of your neck and tightened his arms around you. "I’m great, it was amazing but how are you, are you okay?" He asked, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as he looked you up and down.

You smiled at him in pure happiness. "I’m amazing, she’s amazing. Come and see her," you told him and grabbed his hand, pulling him upstairs to your room.

Alina was napping which is all she ever did at her young age but you didn’t care if she woke up because the look of awe on Mick’s face as he set his eyes upon her would make it worth it.

"She’s tiny," he whispered, reaching a finger inside the cot and smiling as she wrapped her fist around it. "She looked so much bigger over the phone, she’s beautiful, Y/N, really." He looked up at you and smiled.

"That’s because she takes after me," you smirked and he rolled his eyes, slowly pulling his hand away before turning to you.

"Do Mum and Gina know?" He asked.

You didn’t need him to emphasise, you both knew what he meant, the unspoken topic that neither of you brought up throughout your entire pregnancy and even after.

"No," you replied honestly, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Y/N-" he sighed.

"Don’t," you cut him off. "He didn’t want to know, Mick. He didn’t care and I’m not going to beg him to."

The sympathetic look he gave you in response to the defeated words you spoke filled you with the need to cry but you didn’t.

You simply stood there for a moment before sighing. "I think I’m going to quit."

Mick gave you a look of horror. "What!?" He whisper shouted. "You can’t, you’ve been with Mercedes for nearly a decade!"

You shrugged. "I don’t want to work for him anymore, not when he is adamant on acting as though he didn’t give me the wrong impression, as though I don’t have his daughter at home who he doesn’t know about because he didn’t care enough for me to tell him."

He didn’t say anything, knowing that your point was completely reasonable. He just hoped this didn’t ruin everything you had worked for.

December 2024

You walked side by side with Mick through the pits of the Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi, drawing quite a bit of attention to yourselves, not only because this is the first glimpse anyone has seen of you all year but because of the three month old you held in your arms.

You walked into the Mercedes garage as though you weren’t about to reveal why you hadn’t participated in this season, pretending you didn’t notice how everyone paused what they were doing to stare as soon as you crossed the threshold.

Their stares burned into your skin but none more than Toto’s, you felt the trail his eyes left across your entire body and the way they settled on the sleeping baby in your arms.

You ignored the burning sensation he was leaving on your skin, instead focusing on the mechanics and other team members that were approaching to speak to you and introduce themselves to Alina.

It was around twenty minutes later before you were left alone, Mick took this opportunity to take Alina to go and show her off to anyone who would give him the time of day, you loved how much of a proud uncle he was.

"Can we talk?" His voice was low and gravelly in your ear as he spoke in a hushed whisper, startling you momentarily.

You scoffed and shook your head. "You weren’t up for talking in January, I’m not up for talking now."

"It’s important," he tried to reason and you laughed.

"What I wanted to say was important but you didn’t care, what was important to me wasn’t important to you. It’s not nice being on the receiving end of that, is it?"

You had hit the nail on the head with that one and by the stunned silence Toto was confined into, he knew that as well.

"Please, I know I don’t deserve it but can you please just come and have a civil conversation with me in my office," he pleaded, knowing that he really had no leg to stand on because he was the one that was completely in the wrong.

You wanted to make a comment about how poetic it was that he wanted to go and talk in his office, just how you did all those months ago and yet you had no luck but you didn’t.

You relented and agreed but that did not mean you were going to be easy on him.

You sighed and stood up from your seat, following him to his office.

You refused to speak first as he shut the door which resulted in a thick, heavy silence for a couple of minutes as you both stood there, Toto staring at you whilst your eyes strained on the ground.

"What happened in Abu Dhabi last year-" he started causing you to look up at him, not expecting him to even bring that up considering how certain he was to avoid it before.

"It wasn’t a mistake, I just- I spent two years fighting my feelings for you because you deserve so much more than I am. The baggage I come with- I’m divorced twice and I have kids and I’m so much older than you and you deserve so much more than to be with a man that comes with all that and can’t give you everything."

You stared at him blankly though you were surprised that he had supposedly felt something for you for an entire year before you noticed anything.

"I never thought of you as anything but my boss and a friend but then last year, the way you looked at me and the way you acted, I thought you liked me and it confused me, my mind was baffled the entire season but no matter what you caused me to feel, I fought against it but then with his forward you were in Abu Dhabi, you made me think you actually wanted me and even if you didn’t then that’s fine but what isn’t fine is leading me on with your stares and your touches and then leaving me alone in a hotel the moment I gave in and even after that when I tried to speak with you, you ignored me and dismissed me. Do you know how used and disgusted I felt?"

You knew the look of guilt on his face wasn’t fake but that didn’t change anything, his guilt was nothing compared to what he had put you through.

"I thought I was doing what was best for you," he replied defeated, knowing how pathetic he sounded and how weak his response was.

"I couldn’t look at myself without feeling the urge to throw up after the way you left me there and it was all down to your insecurities which are ridiculous by the way. I can’t believe you think I’d care about how many times you’ve been married or how many kids you have or how old you are, I only ever wanted someone who loved me and treated me right, you could’ve done that but the man that spoke to me in January, I’ve never seen you like that and that man is not someone I would ever be with."

"You didn’t deserve that," he replied in agreement. "I was overwhelmed by the guilt I felt for leaving you there and trying to ignore my feelings for you which I thought were wrong to be feeling but it is not an excuse for the way I spoke or dismissed you, it was wrong of me. I’m sorry."

"I know," you shrugged. "But I don’t forgive you, not right now at least."

Toto shook his head. "I’ll earn your forgiveness." He said confidently.

"Okay." You whispered.

The air between the two of you shifted as Toto looked at you apprehensively, shifting on his feet. "Your baby-" your heart thumped loudly in your chest. "Is she?" He asked, not needing to continue.

You weren’t going to deny the truth and so you replied honestly. "Yes, it’s what I tried telling you in January."

The look of anguish that appeared on his face was heartbreaking to see because you could tell he truly regretted his actions but it was simply the consequences of his decisions, he was still able to make up for it.

"What did you name her?" He asked quietly.

"Alina Elisabeth Schumacher, Elisabeth after my grandmother."

"You chose well…. Could I meet her?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep with you but of course you would allow him to see her, not only because your daughter deserved a chance to have a father but because you knew he was a good father and he would’ve been there had you been given the chance to tell him of her.

"I’ll go and get her." You told him, swiftly walking passed him and out of the door.

It was George that happening to be holding her as you re-entered the garage, the man looking up at you with a pleased smile. "Y/N! I’m happy your back, am I getting my beginner back next year?" He asked as he handed her over to you.

You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulders. "I’m honestly not too sure yet, George but I’ll let you know."

"No worries," he waved you off. "She’s beautiful by the way."

You thanked him before turning away and heading back to Toto’s office.

Alina was wide awake now and her dark eyes were looking around curiously as you walked through the small corridor.

As soon as Toto’s eyes laid upon her you practically saw how he immediately fell in love with her, his eyes softened as they took in her features, probably trying to find anything that resembled himself.

"I think she has your eyes, but that’s about it," you commented lightly causing him to laugh.

He stepped forward and held his hand out for her, smiling and laughing as she reached out and grabbed his finger before shoving it into her mouth.

He looked at her in awe, as if he couldn’t believe she was a part of him. He reached out with his other hand and tickled her cheek with his finger causing her to gurgle around his hand.

"You can hold her," you told him, lifting her out towards him. He looked at you unsurely but you encouraged him with a nod and that was everything he needed to take her into his arms.

Alina threw away her grip on his hand as he held her and instead pressed both of her hands into his cheeks and pressed her face up against his causing you both to burst out into laughter which resulted in her copying you.

"She’s so small," he muttered almost to himself but you heard him.

"She didn’t feel it when I was pushing her out but she does look it," you joked but also serious, it had hurt like hell.

The mention of her birth spiked a sudden interest. "When was she born?" He asked.

"September 3rd, she was two weeks late, didn’t want to leave I suppose so I had to get induced."

He looked at you worried. "You didn’t do it alone, did you?"

You shook your head, "No, don’t worry, my mum was there with me."

"That’s good," he replied, pulling away from Alina’s grabby hands and instead brought her into a hug, resting the side of his head against hers.

God did he look good holding her.

Alina cooed and babbled as she lied her head on his shoulder and reached her hand up to grab his ear and pull on it.

The immediate connection between the two was impossible to miss and it was sad they had both missed out on this but you refused to let yourself feel guilty about it.

"Thank you for this," Toto’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. "I know I don’t deserve it."

You shook your head. "You deserve a relationship with her, no matter what I wouldn’t have kept her from you."

He smiled and tightened his hold on Alina, still struggling to believe she was really his.

He had four kids. Wow.

He did not want to think about how he was going to explain this one to them.

"We should probably go back out there, there’s still a race that’s about to start." You mentioned, hating to break him out of his bubble but he had priorities.

After much coercing, you managed to get him out of his office but he kept his hold on Alina, he didn’t think the team would suspect anything, they probably just thought he wanted to hold her but even if they did have suspicions, he didn’t care.

Everything felt right as he held her, now he just needed to make it up to you and he would do everything needed for you to forgive him because he wanted this, he wanted you and this family you had created, no matter how long it took.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

People who asked to be tagged or asked for a part 2:

@pear-1206 @luckyladycreator2 @urmotheris @lightdragonrayne @viennakarma @woozarts @carolloliveerr @nuggetvirgo @myescapefromthislife @minkyungseokie @oatmealandsugar @hc-dutch @arieltwvdtohamflash @grayxiu @bigsimperika @emilyval1 @eternalharry @msbyjackal

#formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 fic

[katiexpunk]

Sex On Fire, Part 1 | Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them. Part 1 Summary: You move to New York, after a little coaxing from your aunt. You meet your new neighbor, Joel, and quickly learn he's a Captain with the NYFD and good with his hands. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~6.7K Warnings: Sexual tension, sexual tension, sexual tension. This one is dripping in it. No age gap specified. No explicit smut (yet, there's uh...gonna be a lot in part 2), but a nice lead up to it in the end that will probably blue ball you. Groping. Alcohol. Hardcore flirting. Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, and Kings of Leon song references. Uniform kink. Joel has a hard on for seeing reader in his shirt. Reader's mom has passed. Texas/small town vibes. New York City. There are no specific descriptors for reader, except that she has hair. Ya'll, these two are just down for each other so fucking bad it's not even funny. Authors Note: This one is for my darling moot @darkheartgatita. Pia, thanks for putting Firefighter!Joel into my brain. I hope you enjoy. As always, thank you to my Slutty, Smutty, Sister @sydneyinacoma who inspires me every day and shares her filthy thoughts on the reg. And to everyone who gives my little blog love -- I fucking love you all so much. Part 2, Fall and Winter, will drop next Saturday.

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Part 2 | Part 3 Preview | Part 3

S P R I N G  Spring blooms, bringing with it a new beginning for you. Of all the places you’d thought you would be, New York was not one of them. 

Life back in Texas wasn't terrible, a bit dull sometimes, but not awful. 

Yet, in the mundane moments, your mind often drifted to daydreams – visions of swapping your Levi's for a sleek black dress and trading quiet farmland for the lively hum of city bars. You’d think of Samantha from Sex and the City sitting on your porch at sunset, drinking Bud Light, wishing your fairy godmother would appear and magically turn it into a dry Martini.

That was until three weeks ago, when your rich aunt, visiting from New York, decided to sprinkle a bit of magic into your life. 

“I’m gonna move to Italy for a while,” she casually said over family dinner as if she was just announcing that she was going to the store for milk. You should have been surprised, but she’s always been the kind to never stick around for too long. Single and child-free, she’s spent her adult life dancing to her free-spirited rhythm, bouncing around from one place to the next. Not because she had to, but because she could. You, on the other hand, were the total opposite.  After your mom passed away, leaving the cocoon of the familiar felt like too much. Despite your aunt's protests and encouragement to just go, you resisted, not wanting to leave behind your dad and the comfortable life you'd known. But if there's one thing you've learned about your aunt, it's that she's relentless – and yanking you out of your comfort zone was precisely what she wanted, and she had just the plan to do it. 

She handed you the keys to her Lower East Side apartment, turning your once silly little daydreams into a reality. “Sweetie, you need this – you’re meant for so much more, your dad will be fine. Please go,” she encouraged. 

Despite your initial reluctance, you caved, and before you knew it, you were on a plane bound for JFK. 

++++ You feel like a small fish in a big pond as you navigate the city. Trying to figure out the subway turns into a whole saga of you getting lost more than once. You eventually find the right borough, but not without a fair share of unhelpful people brushing you off along the way. Yep, you're definitely not in Texas anymore. 

While walking through the city, it hits you that a new pair of shoes is in order; something made clear to you by the little blister on the back of your heel that’s screaming at you. Despite the annoyance, you’re enjoying the walk to the apartment, your new home. The city's buzzing with life, and even the faint smell of urine in the air doesn't bother you. It's a wild, trippy feeling to be in the city, to feel like the main character of your own story. 

You grab your phone, itching to double-check the building your aunt texted and ensure you have the right address. Remembering her advice about the unassuming exterior but spectacular view, you get ready for the big reveal. The key affixed to a keychain with a little apple on it meets the lock, and as you turn it, the door swings open, revealing a spacious wooden staircase.

As you step inside, you notice there's a bit of mail scattered on the slightly dusty floor. You collect the envelopes and magazines with your aunt's name on them and neatly stack the other pieces for Joel Miller into a pile on the bottom step.

After climbing the – Jesus, really fucking narrow – stairs, you're faced with doors opposite each other. While a brief doubt nudges you to recheck the apartment number, your gut tells you that the door with the welcome mat showing lemons and a pot of fake flowers is the one — a stark difference from its neighbor with a simple grey mat and no decor. Trusting your instincts, you decide that the lively entrance is the one. 

As you step inside, you're greeted by a cozy space that, despite its age, radiates warmth and character. The walls are adorned with paintings that seem to tell stories of bygone eras, while rays of sunlight filter through the window, revealing glimpses of the bustling cityscape below. 

Though small, the apartment is meticulously decorated, each corner telling a tale of adventures and cultural escapades. Remnants of your aunt’s travels, collected with care, add a touch of global flair to the modest space. Posters from Broadway plays hang proudly on the walls, as do family pictures. It’s lived-in; the kind of lived-in that feels comfy and embraces you like a warm hug. 

You look at the frames on the wall and pause when you see one of your favorites – a photo of you as a little girl, smushed between your mom and your aunt, a cake three sizes bigger than your tiny head lit up with birthday candles in front of you. You can't help but trace the edges of the frame with your fingertips, connecting with the warmth radiating from your mother's beaming smile. Miss you, mom escapes your lips as your eyes linger on the photograph for a heartbeat longer before the rest of the room demands your attention.

In the compact kitchen, a handwritten note from your aunt beckons, strategically placed beside a bottle of wine on top of a stack of takeout menus. Her words resonate with warmth and encouragement. "Welcome to your new home! I am so proud of you for taking me up on my offer. Disregard the bedroom chaos—I started painting the walls but didn't quite finish before taking off. Feel free to pick up where I left off if the mood strikes. And if you ever need a hand with anything, Joel Miller across the way is a nice guy. I've already told him that you’ll be staying for a while, or who knows, maybe forever. Love you!" The paper carries the unmistakable fragrance of her perfume, and a smile graces your face after you finish reading it. 

Setting the heartfelt note aside, your attention shifts to the menu for Sang Garden, a vibrant pink post-it exclaiming, "Right down the street! Super yummy!" Hunger gnaws at your stomach; the last meal was a distant memory from this morning, and you're ravenous. Without hesitation, you dial the number on the menu, your choice a steadfast favorite: orange chicken. “10 minutes,” the older lady on the phone tells you, not bothering to say goodbye before hanging up. Huh, efficient, you think. 

As the aroma of anticipation fills the air, you finish unpacking your suitcase and weave through your new space until your food is ready. Only having to go down a flight of stairs and less than a block down the street to pick it up is a new feeling for you. If you wanted something like this at home you’d have to drive at least 20 minutes to pick it up. 

You finish the entirety of the meal within minutes curled up on the couch, Sex and the City on the T.V.. Your aunt was right, it’s good. Probably the best orange chicken you’ve ever had in your entire life; just the right amount of zest and sweetness. You can already tell you’ll be a regular. Everyone always talks about the pizza in New York, but nobody bothered to tell you about the Chinese. You can tell you’ll probably have a lot of moments like that, discovering new things for yourself instead of hearing about it from magazines or seeing the photos on Instagram. 

With your belly now full of the sticky goodness, you settle into bed for the night. You stare at the ceiling, paying no mind to the smile that’s been plastered on your face for the past three hours. You feel giddy, like a little girl seeing the stars for the first time. You’re doing it. You’re really doing it. 

The city is still thrumming to life, but the distant sound of sirens and honks eventually turns to white noise as you drift off to sleep. 

++++

The next morning, you rise with purpose; new life breathed into you. You brew a cup of coffee and decide to savor it on the fire escape, enjoying the not-yet-thick spring, and still slightly chilly, spring air. As the city stirs awake beneath you, you’re determined to craft an agenda for the day. With another few days to spare before your new job starts, your thoughts drift to the bedroom, where the abandoned paint cans await. 

It's been a while since you've had the chance to dive into something genuinely productive, or creative for that matter, and you decide that this is the perfect opportunity. Your aunt chose a deep, rich shade of green, one that harmonizes seamlessly with the space; not too dark, but not puke or pea green, either. It’s pretty. She always has had good taste. 

And while you like the color, it’s not particularly one you’d like to see splattered all over your clothing, having only brought what you could fit into a small suitcase. Your aunt must have something, you think. The woman has more clothes than a department store and there is no way she could have brought them all to Italy, although you don’t put it past her to try. 

You make your way to the guest bedroom and rummage through the dresser located there. The top drawer is full of nothing but scrapbooks, the middle drawer has only sweaters, but luck strikes in the bottom drawer, where you locate a handful of old shirts. 

You pull out a dark blue, oversized “New York Fire Department” cotton t-shirt; the front of it has an emblem, and the back says “Rescue 1 FDNY” in faded blocky white letters, obviously well-loved. This will do, you tell yourself, quickly exchanging your tiny crop top for the large shirt. It hangs over your body, the bottom nearly hitting your knees. Why your aunt has such a large shirt in her collection you’ll never know, but you wager it’s probably from one of her many “friends” over the years.  

++++

The sounds of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" fill the room, you stand in the center of the bedroom, paintbrush in hand, ready to transform the space. The nostalgic chords of Stevie Nicks' voice in Dreams infuse the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint as you dip the brush into the can, and begin. “Like a heartbeat drives you mad,” you sing, slightly off-key, but no one is around to listen and you don’t mind. “Thunder only happens when it’s rainingggggg,” you belt, using the paintbrush as a microphone. 

While most of the paint makes it on the walls, you have to admit that painting isn’t your strong suit and a fair amount of it has splashed back onto your face, shirt, and even your hair. You’re having fun, more fun than you’ve had in a while, even if you make a mess while doing it. Not like you’re gonna see anyone today anyway.

“Players only love you when they’re plaaaaaying…” doing your best Stevie twirl. 

More and more green covers the walls, but as you’re about to get started on the final white wall, you’re interrupted by a loud steady stream of knocks at your door. 

You hit pause on the music, and make your way to the door, unsure of who would possibly be knocking. You peer through the peephole to take a look, but you can only see the back of a man in a simple white shirt, his back turned to face away from the door. You undo the chain lock and swing the door open. 

As the man pivots to meet your gaze, his presence sweeps over you, an unexpected force that leaves you momentarily disarmed. He’s handsome in a way that unmoors you; a mass of a man with broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and sculpted biceps that redefine your sense of composure. Whoa.

“Hi,” you murmur, your eyes conveying a blend of softness and curiosity, "Can I help you?"

The man looks at you, and you feel yourself heat under the attention of his gaze. His eyes gently caress your frame; lingering a little too long on the emblem sewn into the fabric, just above your breast. 

"Uh," he clears his throat, his hand rising to his face, fingers subtly grazing the beard hair on his cheek, as if grappling for words. "Yeah, well – no, uh," he stumbles, the words caught in a momentary struggle. "Hi, ‘m Joel Miller, I live across the way," he greets, angling his body to signal to the door directly across the foyer. “Oh right, my aunt told me about you you,” you say, introducing yourself, voice smooth like honey. “She mentioned you were a nice guy and to call you if I ever needed anything,” you say, taking up space in front of him by leaning into the door.  “Just stopping by to say hi, then? Or do you need a cup of sugar or something like that?” you ask with a playful tone. 

Suddenly, the last thing he wants to do is admit that there's something you could help him with—like turning down your music. He likes Fleetwood Mac as much as the next guy, but the last three days on shift have left him craving peace, not a soundtrack reverberating through the thin walls.

Plus, he wasn’t expecting you to be so damn attractive. 

And he definitely wasn’t expecting to be wearing his shirt when you answered the door. 

“Ha, no, don’t need any sugar,” he chuckles, “just thought I’d make myself known.” He pauses, eyes locked onto yours. You notice the subtle flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes and the furrow of his brow. He’s painfully handsome. Just as you’re about to say something, he breaks the silence first, “But I'll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doin’...you look busy,” he tilts his chin to the paint that’s splotched over your bare legs. You can tell he’s looking for the story behind the mess. 

His left hand leaves his pocket and he places it on the doorframe. He leans into it, and your eyes catch the firmness of his bicep flexing under the strain of his lean before meeting his face once more. 

“Cute shirt, by the way” he says, his voice low and even. 

“Oh thanks, you like it?” you ask, pulling the fabric out in a tent from the center, noticing the little splatters of paint as you do. “It’s my aunt’s, I just borrowed it while I finish up some painting.”

“Yeah, I have the same one,” he adds, “looks a helluva lot better on you than it does me, though,” a little laugh leaves his chest and his cheeks flush, a little embarrassed that he just said that. Fuck, it’s been so long since he’s tried to flirt with a woman. 

Your skin prickles with heat, and you’re suddenly very self-aware of what a wreck you must look like, but you decide to be bold anyway. “Maybe we’ll have to compare sometime,” you playfully retort.

“Yeah, maybe we will,” he responds, looking you up and down, hoping the meaning behind his words isn’t too obvious. 

“Well if ya ever need anything, ‘m just across the way,” he says, dropping his hand from the doorframe, hitting his thigh with a slight sound of a pat. “Nice to meet ya, Darlin’,” he says. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your chest once more, your stiff nipples now peeking through the fabric. He turns on his heels and turns his back to walk back to his apartment. 

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” you purr. His head peers over his shoulder back at you, and the corners of his lips turn up in a little smirk. 

Oh god. 

You’re so fucked.

++++

Later that night, you text your aunt that you just met Joel Miller. You curse her for not telling you how incredibly hot he is.  You also tell her that you decided to finish the painting, sending a selfie of you in front of the freshly updated walls with the message. You also add that you borrowed one of her shirts and that you’ll do your best to get the paint out of it. 

Her response causes your breath to hitch in your throat, and your stomach swirls into a tight knot. 

“The walls look amazing! Oh and by the way, that’s not my shirt, it’s Joel’s. I must have forgotten to give it back to him; the shared laundry downstairs sometimes causes mix-ups. Be a doll and give it back to him, will ya? Oh and quarters for the machines are in the clay pot next to the door.” 

Fuck. Of course you would answer the door to your incredibly hot neighbor, covered in paint, in his shirt. You shake your head in embarrassment.

You look down at the shirt and notice just how much paint is all over it. You strip it from your body, bring it over to the sink, and begin to scrub the paint out of it with dish soap. As you watch the paint fade into the warm water, you notice the tag on the inside of the shirt and the rank inscribed in permanent marker on it. 

Your fingers prune in the water, but you eventually get all of the paint out of the fabric. Satisfied with your cleaning job, you hang it up to dry and scribble out a note. 

The following morning, on your way out to explore the city, you leave it neatly folded on Joel’s doorstep. You don’t bother to knock, you’re certain you might combust from embarrassment if you did. 

Shortly after, on his way to work, Joel opens the door and notices the shirt by his boot, a little envelope placed on top of it. 

“You could have told me it was your shirt, Captain Miller.” 

Joel smirks. The cat’s out of the bag on that little secret then. He places it inside and lets out a little sigh. The image of your perky nipples, exposed legs, and messy paint-riddled hair flashes in his brain. 

God, he wishes you would have kept it. 

S U M M E R

As spring transitions into summer, the city experiences a gradual warming trend. Cherry blossoms and tulips from spring slowly give way to vibrant green foliage. Parks become lively with people enjoying the pleasant weather, and outdoor events become more frequent. The temperature rises, and there's a noticeable shift towards a warmer atmosphere with longer days. 

It’s a shift you also feel in yourself, having found your niche, carving out your place in the ecosystem of the city. You’ve gradually adjusted, figured out how to successfully navigate the complexities of the subway system, and are starting to rely less and less on Google Maps to get around. You frequent a bodega around the corner from you, know where to find a decent bagel, and are a recognizable regular at Sang Garden. 

Your new job keeps you busy. It’s tough work being a bartender in the city, but it’s granted you more than one opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, people you’d never get the opportunity to meet back in your hometown. 

People like the gregarious and charismatic trader, who’s more than happy to make it clear he works in the financial district, even when nobody asks. People like the countless young professionals unwinding after a long day with their colleagues; some with sexual tension so obvious you can taste it. Designers. Architects. Engineers. Writers. Musicians. Actors. You don’t like them all, but you don’t have to, you’ll never see most of them more than once anyway. 

You quickly learn the art of making a good martini, one you think would make Samantha proud. It’s all so posh. So far from your usual. But the money is good, and without having to pay rent – a luxury you now realize; having almost fainted when your coworker told you how much he pays in rent – it allows you to pocket most of it. 

Your first few months in New York have been good, although a tad lonely. Making friends was never really a strong suit of yours, and you’re finding the city to be a particularly hard place to get to know people in any real way. Most of your free time is spent curled up with a good book or watching Friends for the millionth time, wishing Central Perk was a real place. 

You see Joel in passing now and then, the in-between times when he’s coming home from work, and you’re just leaving for yours. Sometimes you pass each other on the stairs, and you have to angle your bodies side-to-side just to fit on the narrow stairs as you navigate around one another. You sometimes have to collect your composure when you leave for work and notice the faint smell of his cologne still in the hallway, it smells so good it makes you dizzy. 

You find excuses to talk to him every now and then – a squeaky fire detector, to hand him his mail, or even for a stupid cup of sugar. Every time you find yourself knocking on his door, the butterflies congregate in masses as if preparing to migrate. You feel like a school girl with a crush for the first time, but as far as you can tell, Joel doesn’t feel the same, and you’re okay with that. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself. 

The exchanges are always short; little blips in the grand scene of time, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you might faint under the intensity of his scorching gaze. Which doesn’t help, considering it’s already sweltering outside. 

You severely underestimated how hot summer would be. Of course, you’re used to the oppressive Texas sun, but something about the way the buildings and concrete reflect the rays makes it feel like New York is at least 10x hotter. 

The temperature in your apartment isn’t much better than outside. The air hangs heavy inside as you lay on your mattress, clad in only a bra and underwear, on crisp white sheets, attempting to cool yourself with a damp towel on your forehead. You listen to the feeble hum of the wall crying out for help. 

As luck would have it, the overworked unit decides to give in to the heat. Beads of sweat form on your forehead as you attempt to fix it, but it’s pointless. You stare at the lifeless unit, realizing that the city’s relentless heat has claimed it as a victim. Time for a new one. 

Once the sun dips past the skyline, you venture out to your local hardware store to grab a new one. You wish you would have had some forethought to bring a cart or something, not thinking about the fact that you were going to have to carry the heavy unit eight city blocks. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, you think to yourself. Once back to your apartment, you balance the quirky box on your hip, holding it steady with one arm as you fumble to grab the key from your purse outside the entrance of the building. Your cheeks are warm, you’re drenched in sweat even at this hour, and your hair is starting to stick to the nape of your neck. You manage to grab it, but inadvertently drop it, your fingers clammy. 

“Shit,” you mutter, frustrated and hot. 

“Need some help there, Darlin’?” Joel asks, making his way up the stoop. You turn to face him and oh. 

Of all the times you’ve seen Joel, you’ve never seen him in uniform. The sight catches you off guard. His crisp, navy blue uniform emphasizes his broad shoulders and neatly tucked shirt, the shiny FDNY badge on his chest. He flashes a charming smile, revealing a hint of dimples, as he picks up your fallen key with ease. You’re not sure how he always manages to look so put together, a stark contrast to the way you always seem to look in front of him. 

"Rough day?" he asks, unlocking the door, and for a moment, you forget the oppressive heat, captivated by his charm. “Here, lemme take that for you,” he offers, and you kindly accept. You shift the box out of your arms into his, and your stomach swoops when you watch the way his biceps flex as he grabs the unit with ease. 

Grateful for the assistance, you offer a sheepish smile, “Yeah, you could say that” you reply, opening the door, holding it open for him. He begins to ascend the staircase ahead of you, giving you a full view of his ass in his uniform pants; it’s toned, and his thick thighs match. You walk behind him, trying to ignore the stickiness that’s beginning to pool in your underwear. You allow yourself to perv out for a moment, at least while his back is to you. He’s just helping you out, stop being weird.

Joel waits at the top of the steps for you to open your door. Once unlocked, you enter and he follows behind you. “Oh shit, it’s hotter than hell in here,” he says once inside, the irony is not lost on you that a literal man who fights fires for a living thinks it’s hotter than hell. He bends to place the box down near the front door and rises to full height, bringing both hands to his hips. You notice the little sheen of sweat that has now collected on his thick neck, fighting the impulse to lap up the perspiration. “You’re telling me, I’m rendering lard,” you say, letting your Southern roots shine through. You cringe a little at yourself, watering your accent down to not stick out as much, but you’re reminded of the age-old saying you can take the girl out of the country… 

You wipe the back of your hand on your forehead to push away the sweat that’s been collecting there all day and look at him. “Thanks for the help carrying it up,” you say, offering him a kind smile. 

“No problem at all, need some help installing it? These units can be tricky,” he asks, trying his best to ignore the fact that your white shirt has gone see-through from your sweat, allowing him a perfect view of your breasts. No bra again, he notes. He shifts his stance a little, trying to prevent his cock from hardening at the sight. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little unsure, but deep down you know you need the help. As much as you’d like to think of yourself as an independent and capable woman, you’ve never been one to be good with anything mechanical, and the heat has left your brain feeling like the static of a T.V. channel with no reception. 

“Course. I’m a servant to public safety. Can’t have you accidentally pushing it out the window and crushing a person below, it’d be a lot of paperwork” he chuckles and takes out a knife from his pocket to undo the tape on the box.  It’s an ordinary act, yet somehow you’re mesmerized by his dexterity and competency. 

Midway through the process, Joel pauses, feeling the heat, and glances at you with a lighthearted grin. “Mind if I take this off?” he asks, tugging at the collar of the uniform shirt. You nod, suddenly feeling warmer than before. “Sure, go ahead.” 

His large fingers fumble with the buttons on the shirt, eventually revealing a white tank top underneath. The fabric clings to him, highlighting his defined chest, and a little bit of belly. You practically drool at the sight, once again resisting an impulse to want to sink your flesh into the softness above his belt. 

He has an awful farmer's tan, but he wears it well; his forearms are a nice shade of golden and his shoulders are pale. You see from the lack of collar on the tank that he has a bare chest. He throws the uniform shirt onto a nearby chair and goes back to work installing the unit. You watch as he works to position it in the window, stealing glances at his glistening skin as he does. You think you’re being sly about it, but Joel can tell, he can feel your eyes heavy like bowling balls on him. 

“So, how long have you been a firefighter?” you ask.

“About 15 years,” he responds. “Sorta always knew I wanted to do it, I was a contractor for a while, but wasn’t my thing.”

“Oh no? You seem like you’re pretty good with your hands,” you reply, your words suggestive. 

“Never said I wasn’t, Darlin,’” he replies, shooting you a wink. 

He plugs the unit in, and the screen comes to life. He sets the temperature as low as it will go, and the fan on high; the unit is about to put in overtime to make the air tolerable again. 

“Well, that should do it,” straightening back up from his bent-over position, clapping his hands together as if to dust the task off. “Probably gonna take a while for it to cool down in here. You’re uh, more than welcome to hang out at mine for the time being. Don’t need you overheating on me,” trying to mask his excitement at you being in his space by carding his fingers through his salt and pepper curls. 

You glance at the unit, and you can tell he’s right. “Alright, why not,” you say, offering him a smile. “Just gonna use the restroom fast,” you say, looking for an excuse to make yourself at least somewhat presentable and confirm that you don’t smell like a sweaty subway car. 

Inspecting yourself in the harsh, exposing light of the bathroom, you grimace at your appearance. Not that you’d been expecting to look your best, but still. You pat the extra moisture off your skin with a clean towel, when you notice that nipples are straining against the fabric of your wet t-shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination. You briefly consider changing shirts, but the cheeky side of you decides to leave it be. You give yourself a quick smile and internal encouragement in the mirror and you step out of the bathroom. 

Joel waits in the foyer by the door for you, taking the opportunity to learn a little more about you, drinking in the details of your space for any glimmers of insight it might give him about your life. 

He’s been in the space before, but it’s different this time – updated. It still has many of the same things your aunt had put up, but you’ve added new additions to the walls; photos of you with friends, and family, and vinyl covers in frames. His eyes gravitate to a photo of you at your college graduation; your smile ear to ear, a bottle of champagne in your hands. You always seem happy. He likes that about you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look for a photo of you with another guy, a hint that you might already be taken, but he’s relieved when he doesn’t find one. 

The bathroom door opens with a soft creak, and you stroll out, shooting him a casual but confident smile. As you do, you casually tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, giving off an easygoing vibe. It's a simple move, but there's a certain charm to it that doesn't go unnoticed by Joel.

“Ready?” you ask, and he clears his throat, trying to hide his pleasure that you opted not to change your still slightly transparent shirt. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, yanking on the handle, the door groans and opens with a loud creak. “Don’t wanna hit traffic.” Oh god, that’s a dad joke if you’ve ever heard one. You try to hide the stupid smile that graces your face, but Joel sees it, and matches it. Your shoulder brushes against his chest as you walk through the door, and Joel straightens in response, a little tingle shooting up his spine from the brief touch. Get a fucking grip, Miller, he thinks to himself, pulling the door closed behind him. 

++++

Once inside his apartment, you gasp. It’s not at all what you expected. 

If his front doorstep was any indication, you expected his apartment to be full of Ikea furniture, bare walls, and maybe a fake plant in the corner somewhere. You’re pleasantly surprised when you find that it’s the exact opposite; you feel like you’ve just wanted into some swanky bar. The air smells like palo santo, but above all, it’s cool. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“Can I get you a beer” he asks, and you nod your head in response. He walks into the kitchen, and you’re mesmerized by his space. It’s a similar layout to your apartment, but somehow it feels bigger, even a tad cozier, plus he has exposed brick, a detail you wish your apartment had. 

“Your apartment is amazing,” you tell him, spinning around to get a full 360 view of the space. You hear him yell something like thanks from the kitchen. 

You find your seat on the cognac-colored couch and run your hand up and down the texture of it. The leather is cool on your skin, and your body temperature slowly begins to return to normal.

Joel returns from the kitchen, and hands you a Bud Light. And for once, you don’t wish for it to turn into a martini. Now having spent a few months in the city, you’re starting to realize that you’re more of a bud girl than a cocktail girl, and that fairy godmothers are a tad overrated. 

You’re not sure when he did it, but your ear tunes to the classic sound of Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones playing in the background at a low volume, adding a funk you adore to the moment. 

He finds a seat on the couch next to you and throws his arm behind you on the ledge. He crosses his legs over one another, and you squirm, not out of discomfort, but nerves. 

“I am impressed with your apartment, it’s well decorated,” you compliment him, bringing the bottle of beer to your lips. 

“Had a bit of help, ‘f I’m being honest,” he replies. Your stomach flips. 

“Oh?” you say, a bit breathless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of course, he would have a girlfriend. You see it plain as day now, the feminine touches built into the apartment, hanging on the walls in plain sight, taunting you with the obvious. He even has like ten live plants for fucks sake. Joel Miller is taken. 

“My daughter, Sarah,” he replies, bringing the beer to his mouth for another swig. You try not to make your sigh of relief too obvious. “Oh!” you squeak and turn your body to face him. You don’t know if you’ve scooted closer or if he did, but your thighs are now touching. 

“She’s studying interior design. Begged me this past year to let her fix up my apartment, and well…I didn’t have the heart ta say no,” he replies. “Said my apartment resembled a frat boys bachelor pad,” he lets out a gruff little chuckle and you smile at him. 

His arm drifts close to you, his hand nearly touching your shoulder. It’s not quite there, but you can feel the heat, the electricity, his fingertips shoot to your skin. So much for cooling down.

“Well, if you didn’t decorate the space, what’s your favorite part about it then?” you ask, taking another swig at the bottle. Joel stares at your lips as they latch around the glass, admiring how plush and warm they look. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder what they might look like around his cock.

“Ah, good question,” he says, bringing his hand to cover his crotch with the bottle, all while subtly trying to adjust himself from his previous thought. He’s surprised he even heard your question at all. “Probably the table over there,” he says, nodding his head back to signal to the dining room. 

“Made it myself,” he says, a bit of pride in his voice. 

You crane your neck to look, but can’t get a good view with how plush the cushions are. You slightly angle your body upwards, coming onto your knee on the couch to look, bringing your chest closer to Joel’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really must be good with your hands,” you playfully tease, letting your body sink by his side once more, feeling the warmth he exudes. Your words cause his gaze to go dark. “Mhmm,” he murmurs, taking another sip of his beer, sure if he said any more he might regret it. 

You notice the music switches to Kings of Leon, a favorite tune of yours echoing through the air. “Oh shit, I love this song,” you exclaim, barely able to contain your excitement, much to Joel’s delight. 

“Yeaaaaaah, your sex is on fireeeee,” you belt, and you inadvertently tilt your beer bottle a little too far down in the process of your solo, and a splash of beer pours out onto Joel’s lap. The action abruptly causes you to stop. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, setting the nearly empty bottle on the coffee table in front of you, noticing the box of tissues as you do.

“Don’t worry about it, Darlin’,” he says, voice mellow, placing his beer on the table, too.

You frantically grab a handful of tissues and bring them over to the wet spot pooling on Joel’s crotch. “Here, let me,” you say, dabbing at the liquid, the realization not fully hitting you that your hands are literally on his crotch until – oh.

Joel’s been walking the fine line of a stiff one all night, and your simple gesture throws him over the edge, the dabbing causing blood to rush to his cock. 

You continue to blot at the liquid and notice him stiffening underneath you. A heavy rush of arousal courses through you, and heats your core. Joel’s hand darts to grab your wrist, the size of it completely swallowing up your entirety of it, his fingers wrapped around it, and you’re certain he feels your pulse quicken under his touch.

You look up at him with big doe eyes, only to find his own pupils are blown open wide with lust, his jaw tense. His other hand finds the side of your face, and he holds you up to look at him. You both pause there, letting the tension of the moment swallow you whole. He looks at you like you're a juicy summer peach, ripe for the picking.

His grip on your wrist softens, and you flatten your hand to palm at his growing bulge. Joel lets out a deep groan in response to the full contact. “Shit darlin’,” he says, voice wrecked. His hand drifts to the column of your neck, and he begins to pull you up so you’re face-to-face with him. 

The anticipation builds, and just as your lips are about to meet, a sudden shrill sound shatters the moment – the fire alarm. 

“Fuck.” Joel groans.

TO BE CONTINUED - READ PART 2

Tagging moots and those who I think might like this: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81@lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings@josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). Might transition to a notifs blog soon.xx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal #new york #firefighter smut #pedro stories

[jelliedink]

DILF!Boss Headcannons

Warnings: manipulative behaviour, huge age gap. If you squint, you'll see this is slightly suggestive, but nothing explicit happens here. Author's note: hi my loves! If you guys don't know @sweet-as-an-angel do yourself a favor and check them out. Their Yandere!DILF series has built a 3-store mansion in my head and is living there rent free, so I just HAD to create another manipulative hot older man to call mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Take care!

Dividers by @cafekitsune.

Brain melting thinking about an older boss that realizes you find him attractive the moment you start working for him. He's sure he's got at least 20 years on you, but he can't help but feel flattered.

A boss that finds it delightful to toy with you a little bit: getting his face way too close to yours when he's reviewing your work, a hand gently rubbing your shoulders when giving you feedback. He tells himself that it's just "harmless fun", you're so cute trying to hide how flustered you are!

A boss that watches with curiosity how you grow on him more each day seeing how hard you work and how eager you are to learn everything he teaches you.

A boss who acts as a mentor professionally and insists you can confide in him with your life problems too. He's already lived everything you're going through now, and he just wants to see you thrive.

A boss that starts to invite you to a lot of work related events once summer break starts. His ex-wife is travelling with the kids and the house just feels so lonely without them.

A boss that, upon the discovery that you're single, is sure that the gods gifted you for him to turn into his perfect little doll.

A boss that likes to give you little gifts "for your hard work" every now and then, and they get increasingly more expensive.

A boss who's so subtle when blurring the lines between professional and personal relationships that the word "date" doesn't even cross your mind when he starts to invite you to non work related events.

"Have you seen this artist is coming to town with their new exposition?" "The weather is nice today, how about we visit the japanese garden to freshen up after spending the whole week inside the office?"

A boss who never corrects anyone who refers to you as a couple during your outings, and instead laughs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful wink every time this happens. He even turns it into a internal joke, and soon you get used to hear him calling you his darling, his dear, his precious.

A boss that makes sure to have you yearning for him before making his move. Sometimes he kisses your hands when you're out together, always saying how lucky he is to have such a beautiful company, his lips gently running along your fingers. Other times he caresses your face when you go to him for advice. His hugs are tight, so his scent will linger on your clothes. He might even kiss the top of your head every now and then.

A boss who loves to see you getting used to having him always present in your life, getting flustered when he touches you in ways that are intimate just enough to keep you guessing.

A boss that thinks you're so beautiful and so hard working that he'll take how much time he needs to mould you into a perfect wife and a perfect mother for his children. He'll guarantee that your life will be so enmeshed with his that you'll never be able to leave him, even if you want to. This time he'll create a family so perfect that nothing will tear it apart.

A boss who knows he doesn't need to rush things because he's sure you'll be his in the end. You're so young, so malleable, and he's been playing this game for so much longer than you. He knows just what he needs to do to wrap you around his fingers.

#yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #boss x employee #boss x reader #dilf x reader #oc x reader

[soaringwide]

PAC: What should I focus on to achieve success in my chosen field? - Career tarot reading

Pile: 1 > 2 > 3

Today's reading is a career reading about "What should I focus on to achieve success in my chosen field?"

The reading is going to be kept open regardless of your chosen professional field to be applicable to various situations. I will focus on two aspects: 1) an analysis of your current situation so that you can asses and work on yourself; but also 2) the steps you can take in the world to better the situation.

It is important to have a chosen field in mind when picking the pile/picture as it is not meant to tell you what you should do, but rather help you move forward on your desired path, whether you're currently working in this field, or thinking of doing so in the future.

PILE 1

Cards: Wheel of Fortune rx; Justice; Death rx; 9 of Wands + Queen of Wands; Page of Pentacles rx + The Moon rx + Page of Wands; Knight of Swords rx + 5 of Wands + 10 of Pentacles; the Chariot

Let's start with where you're currently in your career to see if it resonates with you and if you got the right pile. For some of you, it seems you've recently experienced a pretty harsh turn of events in your career that was sudden and unexpected. Perhaps you got laid of or something you were hoping would work didn't. For others, it could also be that you're still waiting for luck to turn in your favor, you may be looking for the job or opportunity of your dreams and feeling quite frustrated by the constant struggle. In both case things are not exactly going well so we'll see what you can do to turn things around.

If we're talking about success, we need to define what success is like for you in your chosen field. With Justice upright, being successful for you would mean a sense of authority in your field, as in, people come to you for advice and look up to the quality of your work but also your work ethic. They would see you as someone very knowledgeable and with a form of wisdom regarding their field. Someone who's able to take hard decision where others would fail to be up to the challenge and face the dilemma. They would respect you and your position.

For the strengths you can count on in order to achieve success, with Death reversed, I definitely think you're not someone to give up easily. Regardless of the setbacks you face, you're able to stay on track and keep your eyes on the price. There is an element of stubbornness but in this position it's actually quite positive since it's what's allowing you to keep pushing where others would have given up. This determination, even in the hardest moment where all hope seems lost, is key to your future success.

Now for what's hindering you, it's quite interesting because it seems to contradict your strengths but I think it's only here to show that these weaknesses have the potential to be turned into strengths, and also bring some nuance to the reading.

What I see is that despite not giving up as we previously saw, you're also prone to feel like the underdog, doomed to be alone against everyone having to constantly fight against people richer and stronger than you for what belongs to you. You have the potential to be a leader and be fully confident in your capacities, but right now it's appearing as a weakness, showing that you haven't embraced your leader-potential just yet. You might be hesitant to take risks due to the uncertainty and you're merely reacting to events rather than taking them as an opportunity to climb higher. You need to learn to take initiatives if you want to step into your power.

3 cards popped out for you mental or emotional blockages. I definitely think that you have this ingrained belief that you're not worth the qualities I described in the previous paragraph. You feel too young, too inexperienced and perhaps not strong or passionate enough to embrace them. But it's a mental blockage and not something rooted in truth. You also have some type of trauma regarding financial abundance, as in, part of you is stuck thinking you will always lack what you need to be at ease, or that you will always miss the opportunities that arise in front of you. I would definitely work on dismantling these beliefs because they are hindering your growth. Everything is learned either from childhood or from later in life, and there is no reason for history to repeat itself unless you let it dictate the way you think and act.

As for what steps to take in order to move forward towards success in your chosen field, you need to resist the temptation to rush and be hasty in your progress. With all the setbacks you're experiencing, it can seem like a good idea to go full force but it's not what's needed in your case. Rather, you should plan ahead and take deliberate steps and building your foundations with a directed focus instead of splashing around. You also need to be mindful of your words and how you come across and keep the idea of collaboration in mind, be it through working directly with people or through networking I'm getting. With that said, you still need to be your own spokesperson so be assertive and don't let competition trample you over. Perhaps your field is very competitive so you'll have to learn to find that stimulating and bloom in that instead of feeling crushed and diminished. There is also the idea that you will be able to achieve success through the help of people around you. It can either be family, friends or work connections you networked with. Perhaps you need to team up with someone and start to make your own path. Regardless, don't look at everyone like they are a potential threat but see the opportunities that can arise when you join forces.

Finally, you need to believe in your own success and abundance. Yes things aren't so great right now but it doesn't mean it will always be the case. You need to learn to believe you're the one in control of your life and lean into that power.

PILE 2

Cards: Ace of Pentacles rx; Knight of Wands + Queen of Cups; 5 of Cups + 7 of Swords; 8 of Pentacles; 7 of Wands; King of Swords + Queen of Pentacles; the World

First of all, we need to start with where you're currently at in your journey to see if it resonates as the right pile for you. I definitely feel like you're quite early in your journey, perhaps even at the ''planting the seed'' phase. You got the Ace of Pentacles reversed in this position which to me means that the seed of your journey just hasn't landed in the soil yet. All this potential and energy is currently still in the realm of your mind.

It's underlined by the bottom of the deck being the world which signifies a world of opportunities waiting to happen in reality. You're definitely at a crossroad so we'll see what can be done about that.

I felt like it was a good idea to define what success looks like to you before looking at what to do to achieve it. So I think for you being successful entails being passionate about what you do, having the motivation to wake up every day without feeling like you're wasting your life. You want to feel in control of your life and that means spending most of your time doing something meaningful to you. I also feel like doing something that's emotionally fulfilling is important, and for some of you that might include something creative or artistic. In both cases, the financial abundance is important but it's a byproduct of doing what you feel fulfilled by.

As to what are your strengths, I think you're someone who's not afraid to take twisted path to achieve your goals. You might be ''street smart'' in the sense that you learn things on the go and in unusual ways and are able to see shortcuts where others only see the main road. I also get the sense that you're able to take a loss because you know that not everything is ever going to waste and that there's always something to learn from every defeat.

For your weakness, I definitely see a lack of experience and skills, which is good because it only take time and energy to remediate. However you need to be set on putting in the work in the long run in order to actually kick of your career otherwise it's remain nothing but a dream. I'm also getting that some of you might struggle with procrastination and feeling overwhelmed by tasks easily.

As for your blockages, and it is in line with my warning of the last paragraph, you might have a tendency to get discouraged easily and give up, where, again, success is all about being determined and working in the long run. Do not let setbacks or obstacles waver your motivation and ambition. It would be a good idea to reflect on what situation triggers such reactions and where it is rooted from.

Finally, for the steps to take toward your success, you definitely need to learn to be disciplined and structure your thoughts, and I'm getting, learning journey. Be clear with what you want to achieve, set down goals and work earnestly towards them. You also need to be practical about your goals and nurture yourself like you would a garden. You're not gonna shout at the plants because they don't grow fast enough. Instead, you research how to better care for them and you provide. Stay flexible in your mind and actions in order to react to events with grace, build onto your strengths to sharpen them, and stay focused on your goal. I'm getting drawn to the idea that the task you're trying to tackle requires many different elements of things to learn or acquire, so really focus all your attention toward one at a time, make it stable and fully integrated, and move onto the next stage of your progress.

PILE 3

Cards: Ace of Swords; Ace of Pentacles; 10 of Swords + the Fool; 5 of Wands; 3 of Wands; 5 of Swords + Ace of Cups rx + Temperance + 4 of Wands rx + the Moon rx

Let's start with where you're currently right now, so that we can make sure it resonates and that it's the right pile for you.

Right now, with the Ace of Wands, you seem to be at the very start of this venture, whether it's a new career path or your very first idea. More precisely, you're in the planning stage, using your mind to figure out what's the best course of action to take in the future, weighting the pros and cons and drawing out a path for the future. I see you gathering information and knowledge about your chosen field so that you can make your entry in the best condition possible.

As to what success looks like to you, with the Ace of Pentacles, I think it's simply pointing at when you'll be able to make money from it. Not that you don't want to aim for something more, it's almost like a symbol of making your first coin, that will lead to many more. With the Ace there's always the idea of potential to come, so I definitely see that at the moment success for you will be to get your foot in the door so to speak, in order to build on it later on. It's also possible that this venture for you is a new chapter of you life and putting the gear into motion is what success is to you.

As for the strengths you can count on in order to achieve success, I definitely feel like you've been through a lot and that it's taken it's toll on you, but that it actually became a strength for you since it's paired with the Fool. I was trying to express this idea when I thought about a qhote from Nitzsche which I think expresses it perfectly:

"One returns regenerated from such abysses, from such a severe self-consumption of grave suspicion, having shed one's old skin, more ticklish, more wicked, with a finer taste for joy, with a more delicate tongue for all good things, with more joyful senses, with a second and more dangerous innocence in joy, at once more childlike and a hundred times more refined than ever before." - Nietzsche - the Gay Science

So yeah, I think you are now rejuvenated and you heart is strong and you're full of desire to take on life and make something glorious and beautiful out of it.

For your weaknesses regarding your career, I think you lack a competitive mindset and that you compare yourself too much to others, thinking you're somewhat lacking in various departments. You're overthinking what others think about what you do and you overheat yourself instead of directing this energy towards your goal. Definitely something you can work on if you find the roots of this lack of self-esteem.

For what mental or emotional blockage you hold, I think you're blocked in the thinking stage of you project and you fear taking the first step. It's like, you know it's not going to be easy so you navigating the waters because you feel safer on the shore even if nothing happen. Perhaps you just need more time but really nothing is ever going to happen if you don't take the plunge so be careful with that. Putting your project into action is not going to be easy, but it will be even harder if you never leave the harbor.

For advice on how to move forward, a whooping four cards came out.

You need to recollect your strengths and prepare for the next battle. Take stock at what you've learned in the past, what has been lost vs won, and how you can build on it in order to propel yourself forward and get out of your current situation.

There is also the need to feed your own emotional fulfillment and not think about money and practical aspects only, which might be a reaction to our current capitalistic world but is not going to feed your soul. Whatever you chose to do next, make sure it aligns with your heart's desire and not just what will bring you a quick buck.

#pick a card #PAC reading #tarot reading #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick an image #divination #tarotblr #tarot community #tarot #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

doctor who but i've never watched it

and so it begins again. the people asked for it. the people got it. i will ensure the people regret it.

i have never watched this show, or seen an edit, but i am a thorough researcher and i feel that i've got the essence of it.

this is what i have gathered. academicians worldwide take note.

Firstly, so I don't anger anyone, I accept and acknowledge that the tardis is blue and not yellow. My misinformation was from a Drarry fanfiction, and I had hitherto regarded Drarry fanfiction as the absolute truth.

There are doctors, and there are at least fifteen of them. At least two of them are David Tennant, which I can respect.

I'm not sure why the doctors are doctors, because I can find no trace of any medical procedure except for one doctor who licks things, which he learned from the previous doctor. If this is sufficient reason, I apologise for doubting their credentials.

On the other hand, if they are doctors thanks to a postdoctoral degree, this is also fine, though I have never seen anyone study anything. There is however a doctor, and there were people upset about her, but the fandom pointed out she set the tardis on fire, which is apparently a very doctor thing to do. Setting things on fire is absolutely something any research scholar would love, so again, apologies for doubting their credentials.

At least one doctor is gay. It is probably one of the David doctors, which checks out. He says someone, I think a dentist, is hot. I envy the maybe-dentist.

A t least one doctor is trans. I was unable to find them. But they exist. Oh yes, the fandom assures me they exist.

David Tennant as well as Ncuti Gatwa were fanboys, first of the show, and second of David Tennant, and thus they got into acting. Just a fun tidbit from me, since I am now the authority on this fandom.

There are time machines with which the doctors have sex by piloting them, which is questionable because the time machines are only partially sentient. I am not sure if the time machines are the tardis. But the tardis is blue, and not yellow, of that I am certain.

There was a stage play. Or maybe that was a metaphor for the production budget of the early seasons. I am not sure, but toddler David Tennant watched it. I assume no one took a 3 year old to a stage play, so through scientific deduction, it must have been a metaphor.

At some point, Death is an agony aunt and they have to spill secrets to it, or drown in a lake of human skulls. Who is this they? It's so obvious that the fandom sees no need to explain it, and neither do I. I do know it though. Of that you may remain certain.

A David doctor has a niece and she likes being his niece.

A David doctor has a best friend named Donna. He kisses her head. She supports his fruitiness. It is wholesome. It killed him when he lost her.

Slight tangent, but younger David doctor looks like Andrew Garfield. Current David in photos does give Ben Barnes energy. Any Wolfstar shippers, I believe you've found the Wolfstar kid. It is David Tennant.

A lot of people are David Tennant. A reliable Pinterest post on Doctor Who, clearly well researched, gave me the statistic that 15% of Doctor Who is David Tennant. From the amount of David Tennant that I ran across in my research, I don't understand it but I don't doubt it, either.

Speaking of Andrew Garfield, he in involved in this somehow. I am not sure how, but you cannot escape Andrew Garfield. He is even a part of fandoms he never acted in.

There is an individual named Catherine, I think she is the actress, but she could be a character. She seems to have much less knowledge about Doctor Who lore than I do. David Tennant finds it funny. Maybe he would find me funny, too.

The doctors installed some things in the tardis, from a wheelchair ramp to a jukebox. I don't know why a jukebox was needed. If I'm honest I don't know what a jukebox is. I don't know what the tardis is. But it is blue, and not yellow.

There is a French catchphrase.

Something happens in Wales. I don't know what it is, but something always seems to be happening in Wales in these fandoms, so I don't doubt it.

There is an old Doctor Who in a wheelchair, and he is happy to see a David doctor.

They go around in space, and do things. Who is this they? You and I both know the answer, so we needn't talk about it.

The show intro is "doo wee doo".

There is an alien who is not a mouse, the alien is The Meep, and uses the definite article as pronouns. David doctor is supportive of this, which is very good.

I found baby Yoda in the show, but apparently they call it a 'goblin' there, and someone doesn't like it.

There is a lot to do with time. There is a time hole, and things happen, and people die and are resurrected. There is danger, but it is fun.

They have CGI, and it is not good, which is the best thing about it. Who is they? Please stop asking me. It is rather obvious and something I definitely know.

Someone's boyfriend dies and the boyfriend is then resurrected but then gets lost with his boyfriend but then is reincarnated as a girl who would still call herself the someone's boyfriend but then she is replaced by the boyfriend but he's different now. I apologise for any errors that have crept it, but the tardis is blue and not yellow.

Someone named Martha is a doctor, and someone is very proud of her for it.

The eleventh and twelfth doctors like bow ties.

David Tennant wants to be ginger. David Tennant always gets what he wants. Who can refuse David Tennant? David Tennant is then ginger.

A David doctor gets a happy ending.

Someone yelled at Neil Gaiman about this. It was a mistake. He said that since it had already been done, he wouldn't want to give David's character a happy ending in S3, that would be a trifle unoriginal.

A lesson to be learned, Good Omens fandom, just a bit of advice from your son, do not yell at Neil Gaiman, it does not go well. Rumour has it he murdered the people who complained about him always wearing black. Of course, there is the fact that he doesn't exist, but that doesn't seem to have stopped him.

The doctors manifest in the previous doctor's clothes, which is apparently so last season. The tardis also manifests. I don't know where, or how. But it is blue, and not yellow.

I know, there was a lot of lore, so many of you thought I wouldn't be able to gather it all. But look how much research I did! I've got it better than maybe-actress-maybe-character Catherine, I'm sure :"]

Anyway, all the major plot points are covered above, so anyone who hasn't watched Doctor Who, feel free to refer to this and impress your Whovian friends with your knowledge! [not to be judgemental, but what a dreadfully Dr Seuss name, I rather like it]

#doctor who #doctor who lore #doctor who lore summary #dw fandom #doctor who explained #i thought it would be badly #but i think not #doctor who accurately explained #i did so much more research for this than for good omens #i even used pinterest! #good omens mascot #now explaining doctor who at your nearby tumblr #hiding behind a dumpster in case the fandom comes for me #good omens fandom #protect me please #wolfstar #david tennant #10th doctor #9th doctor #11th doctor #12th doctor #13th doctor #14th doctor #15th doctor #look internet parents i can count! #ncuti gatwa #whovian #neil gaiman #and his alleged murders #wolfstar child

[kodaiki]

highlights! ⇢ luna had to stay in satoru's bedroom bc she could choke on the lego pieces :( no cameo from her today ⇢ gojo never told anyone any of that... ⇢ gojo was shocked to learn that those were y/n's first official bouquet of flowers given to her

author's note! ⇢ we love a deep conversation moment, bonding over legos <3 okay now kiss :] this was basically the talk they had mentioned in the last part!

꒰ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ꒱ ↳ as a rising star in the tumultuous world of hollywood, you're handed a golden opportunity to boost your career – a fake relationship. what your manager forgot to mention? your leading man is none other than satoru gojo, hollywood's notorious fuckboy. easy? well, not exactly.

PART TWENTY ½ | NEXT

ʚĭɞ rbs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ

to join the taglist: currently 50/50. CLOSED!

[below is the written alternative to the pics above! enjoy <3]

SATORU’S HOME — 10:08 PM

the soft glow of the dimmed lights over your head illuminates the cozy atmosphere as you and satoru sit, plopped on the floor, surrounded by lego pieces scattered around you both. convenience store meal containers are pushed aside, replaced by the colorful array of lego blocks for the assembling of the flowers you’re making. 

you can’t help but chuckle softly as you clip a piece together. “who knew assembling lego flowers would be so therapeutic?”

satoru glances up at you from his craftsmanship, his face lifting into a lopsided smirk as he raises a brow. “therapeutic and much more enjoyable than a dinner at a five-star joint, right?” he asks in a sly tone.

“definitely,” you admit – but give an eye roll, too – finding enjoyment in the quiet concentration of your activity. “i mean, who needs caviar when you’ve got legos?”

satoru wiggles his brows with a drawled, yet all the same, teasing tone. “you expected caviar?”

“you brought up a five star restaurant place first! i’m just playing along,” you reply with a pointed tone, jabbing the start of a lego flower stem at him. 

the atmosphere is light as you continue your tasks, planted in place as you furrow your brows in concentration and deep thought. 

“you know,” you begin, trailing up your gaze to glance over at his progress. he’s piecing the petals to the stem of his first flower. “i expected hollywood glamour and red carpets when i signed up for a fake relationship…definitely didn’t expect this.” your tone remains light and amused, almost whimsical, as a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

satoru snaps his fingers in an ‘aw man’ type of gesture. with mock disappointment, he juts bottom his lip out. “well, i’m sorry if you’re disappointed, princess.”

you scoff playfully, rolling your eyes at his exaggerated display. “oh, i’m terribly disappointed. no paparazzi, no fancy dinners, just legos and premade meals. what a letdown.”

you meet satoru’s eyes when you finish speaking, tone laced with sarcasm. he’s grinning at you, finding your tone amusing. as the playfulness subsides and you’re left in silence again, a more contemplative air settles between the two of you.

you don’t notice at first, but satoru sets aside his made flower and leans back on his hands, gazing at you, his blonde bangs brushing against his forehead. “in all honesty, y/n, the hollywood life can be exhausting. sometimes, a night like this feels more real that those red carpet events.”

the shift in his tone catches your attention, making you pause in your movements and look up at him more intently. you notice his eyes, usually filled with more mischief, now hold a smidge of… is that vulnerability?

“you ever feel like you’re playing a role even when the cameras aren’t rolling?” he continues, a genuine curiosity in his expression.

the legos forgotten for a moment, you nod thoughtfully. “yeah, sometimes, depending on where i am. it’s like there’s ‘public me’ and then the ‘real me,’ and they don’t always align.” you recall the amount of pr training you had to do in your agency, solely to maintain a specific image.

satoru’s gaze lingers on you as if searching for something deeper behind your gaze. “well, you’re not alone in that feeling,” he confesses in a low tone, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare sincerity you haven’t seen before. “sometimes, i wonder if anyone really knows the real me.”

his words make your head cock to the side in interest. “what about suguru and your other friends?” you ask softly.

"well, yeah, i guess they know me on more than a superficial level. but even then, sometimes it's like i'm still playing a character." he shrugs with twisted lips – a habit of his you realize means he's in deep thought. "don't get me wrong, it's nothing wrong with them but my guard is still up… it’s kind of like a default thing engrained in my head since i first started acting.”

your brows dip into a slight furrow as you take in his words. had acting really gotten him to a point of building a hypothetical shield around himself?

you can sense a hint of sadness in his admission, a vulnerability laid bare in his words. it’s a satoru you haven’t seen before, a crack in the facade of the confident, charming persona he presents to the world. truthfully, you didn’t think you’d ever witness this side of him.

“i get that,” you reply softly, setting aside your own lego flower to change your sitting position to hugging your knees as your chin rests against the top of them, giving him your full attention. with a bashful chuckle, you continue, “i mean– i can’t say i relate since i’m far from where you are… but i guess i can see how it’s easy to blur the lines between who you are and a role you’re trying to uphold. it’s like the more successful you become, the more layers you add to protect yourself.”

he blinks owlishly at your words, face appearing blank. you think, for a moment, that you’ve said the wrong thing but he releases a chuckle himself, head tilting to the side thoughtfully.

“exactly,” he murmurs in agreement. “you sure you’re an amateur actress?” he raises a brow, a teasing glimmer in his blue eyes.

you laugh again. “definitely an amateur compared to the hollywood veteran sitting across from me,” you tease, a genuine smile playing on your lips.

satoru visibly shudders at the word ‘veteran,’ shaking his shoulders and head as he sits up straighter.

"was it tough getting to where you are?" you ask, treading the water first, wondering if he's even comfortable sharing this side of himself to you.

"i wanna say i got lucky with my first role at just fourteen. but everything after that? I can’t even tell you which was media-driven and which was self-motivated,” he shrugs with a sigh, briefly looking away from you as if pondering.

"what do you mean?" you furrow your brows. it's no surprise he's technically a 'child' actor, having starred on a popular netflix show in his early teenhood, skyrocketing him to instant fame, a much starker contrast than the typical child actor on daytime t.v.. his viewership was massive from his debut, having scored such a prominent role. 

"after my first show did well, apparently several representatives for different projects wanted me and, well, for my management, that was a lottery. and – it's all a blur now, really – but soon enough I was an overworked sixteen-year-old starring in some show I hardly couldn't care less about, and then-"

"savage satoru," you finish for him, connecting the dots of his story.

he snorts at the cringy title. “was that really what they referred to me as?" he visibly winces, probably wishing for a nickname that didn’t sound like dated twitter jargon.

you nod, remembering how he'd blown up for acting out and being messy, as told by online tabloids on twitter and other social media sites. it’d been so many years ago but it was a pop culture moment; one of those ‘you just had to be there’ moments.

"so you remember the headlines then. i turned eighteen and started being a complete asshole on set, dating around, y’know the whole ordeal. my management had to step in and have a whole intervention with me if you can imagine it. damage control, really. they blamed it on the fact that I was eighteen – young and dumb bullshit – and sure, that had a part in it. but it has more so to do with how exhausted and overworked I was...

but despite all this damage control, i gained the label of some bad boy in hollywood who was objectively attractive and had a fanbase full of girls, so hollywood went with it. as long as i wasn't acting out on set, they'd embrace this new version of myself skewed by the media. anything for some exposure and quick bucks. and me? well, I still needed a check of my own so... i went with it. i think that's when i put up my first layer, hiding myself behind someone who wasn't me but doing it anyway because realistically, what else could I do?”

“it sounds toxic,” you murmur with a frown. 

satoru's gaze becomes distant for a moment, a hint of nostalgia or maybe regret flashing in his eyes. “yeah, it was. it's a strange thing, trying to navigate your identity in an industry that's constantly shaping and reshaping it for you."

you reach down to pick up a stray lego piece from the floor, turning it over in your hand as you absorb his words. “but why go along with it even now? couldn't you have rebelled against the image they were trying to create?"

satoru chuckles bitterly, shaking his head to himself. "it's not that simple, y/n. in hollywood, the image they build for you often becomes more real than your true self. it becomes a survival mechanism. if you're not marketable, then they find someone who is. it's a game, and sometimes you have to play along to stay in it. think about it, you’re part of the game, too."

you gnaw at your lower lip, taking in his words. what he’s saying is true. if it hadn’t been for this fake relationship, you wouldn’t have the place – the opportunities – you do now in hollywood. without you even realizing, it’s a story built by hollywood for hollywood.

satoru looks over at your expression, a rueful smile on his lips. "it's a double-edged sword. the fame, the adoration, it comes at a cost. and often, that cost is your own self.”

the room is filled with a contemplative silence, broken only by the occasional click of lego pieces coming together. the atmosphere shifts once more, a newfound understanding settling between you and satoru.

“i didn’t mean for this talk to get so gloomy,” he mutters with an awkward chuckle amidst the silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

“that’s okay,” you offer a smile of understanding. to be honest, you’d much rather have talks like these with people than a superficial one while brushing these topics under a carpet. “is it bad that i’m rethinking my whole career now?” you ask with a humorless laugh, picking up the flower again, now nearly finished.

“i’d be more surprised if you didn’t,” he retorts with an amused scoff. “but it gets better, trust me.”

“if it’s any consolation, i’m grateful i got to fake date you out of the other actors in hollywood,” you admit with a soft smile.

“yeah?” he raises a brow, partly in amusement, the other part in pure intrigue. “the infamous satoru gojo?” before you can answer, he leans back on his hands again, shooting you a smirk. “i knew you’d admit to my appeal one of these days. they always do.” he glances back at you, winking to let you know he’s partially kidding.

“oh, shut up,” you fire back, but a grin tugs up your lips. “i take back what i said.”

“too late!” he gives you a shit-eating grin, teasing you.

you can only roll your eyes, knowing if you tried to argue with him, your tone would give yourself away. 

perhaps, amidst the legos and vulnerability, a genuine friendship is taking root, growing from the foundation of shared experiences and mutual understanding.

and surprisingly,

you don’t mind it one bit. 

taglist!

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#jjk #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo smut #satoru gojo #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk smau #jjk sm au #jjk social media #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk sns #jjk geto #jjk nanami

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 ALWAYS!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: taking care of a certain suicidal detective is thankless work—or so, that's what everyone says at least, including dazai himself, but you're not as convinced. (wordcount: 1.8k; sfw, mentions of dazai's struggles w depression & self-care; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dazaiiiii <3

Dazai chronically neglects his physical health.

You don't know if it's on purpose or not, you don't think it really matters either way, although some of your coworkers beg to differ in the way that they chide you for "encouraging" his behavior when you go out of your way to take care of him when he refuses to do so himself. Kunikida thinks that he’ll never learn to take care of himself if he constantly has you there as a fallback, but you think it's a bit ridiculous to not extend a hand to someone who is clearly struggling. You know Kunikida means well for Dazai, and he often goes out of his way himself to help the man in his own ways, but sometimes it's not as simple as having to "learn to take care of yourself" and you fear that if no one's there to set him straight when he starts to disregard his health, it'll just turn into another suicide attempt and you'll all be scrambling to help him when his body gives in because it's too weak to sustain itself. 

Sometimes, he neglects himself in major ways. Frequently, you catch him going all day without eating, sometimes days if you don’t notice it right away, all because he claims that he’s not hungry. He rarely cleans his wounds properly after missions and they end up getting infected, and that’s always a mess because then he starts whining about "this type of death being too painful" and Yosano has to spend hours treating him.

Days like today, he neglects himself in minor ways—ways that he thinks he can get away with because no one cares enough to scold him over every little thing.

No one except you, at least.

It’s bitterly cold outside, the wind is harsh and dry, and the heat in the office has utterly failed. Usually, the president would let you guys go back to the dorms rather than let you suffer in the cold, but the case the office is handling is time-sensitive, and you need to at least set up the preparations for the infiltration mission that’s going to take place in a few days. 

Dazai is late, of course, and Kunikida is even more irritated than usual because if all hands were on deck for this, you’d all be able to head back to the dorm earlier. You’re a bit annoyed too, honestly, because your fingers are freezing and your nose is cold, but you figure that Dazai is going to get enough shit from Kunikida anyway.

The door to the office cracks open—speak of the devil, you think to yourself—and your eyes cut upward to where Dazai is peeking into the office, as if to see if Kunikida was waiting for him. Luckily, the president called the irate blonde and Tanizaki into his office to go over the specifics of the infiltration.

“Dazai,” you say, shooting him a flinty look. “You’re late.”

“Bella,” he tosses you a charming smile—one that never works, mind you, but he never fails to try. “I have a good excuse, you see.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” you press. “Let me hear it”

“Ha, well…” he trails off, and your expression drops when he finally steps into the office and you see he’s only wearing his thin tan trench coat.

“Dazai, what are you wearing?” you ask, appalled. You’re bundled up in your winter jacket and a scarf and you’re still freezing—and you’ve worn Dazai’s coat often enough to know that there’s absolutely zero insulation or protection from the winds. 

Dazai gives a look that’s eerily reminiscent of a dog that knows it did something bad, brown eyes just a bit too wide and the corner of his lips turned downward. He makes his way over to his desk, right next to your own, and you notice how he’s violently shivering, face bright red and lips so dry and chapped that they seem to be bleeding.

Your eye twitches in irritation, Dazai gives you a sheepish smile and then winces as his bottom lip splits and blood dribbles over his lips. 

“You’re an absolute moron,” you hiss and rise to your feet. “Sit down.”

You all but storm over to the break room, rifling through the closet to find the blanket you stored in there a while back for Kunikida when he decides to stay over at the office to finish up work. It’s fluffy, and warm, and entirely not meant for Dazai’s idiocy but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Yosano gives you an amused look when she sees you gathering the blanket in your arms as she passes by the break room. 

“You know, I bet he does this just because he likes when you fuss over him,” she says offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe as she watches you kick the closet door back shut.

“Well, it’s either fussing over him or letting him go off and get himself killed,” you scowl, making your way out of the break room back toward Dazai, who’s sitting dutifully where you left him.

“That’s so unfair,” Ranpo immediately complains. “I asked for the blanket earlier and you said no, you can’t just give it to Dazai because he’s your boyfriend.” 

“First of all, I can give my blanket to whoever I want, maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my tootsie rolls, Ranpo,” you say, ignoring the way Ranpo raises his chin indignantly. “Second of all, Dazai is not my boyfriend, he is just incompetent at life.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ranpo scoffs. “The day you two get together is the day the entire office can finally be at peace. We’re sick of the pining.”

You gape, picking up a stray desktop tape and flinging it at Ranpo’s head. Ranpo dodges with a cackle, letting it soar past him and into the wall. You glare at him and return your attention to Dazai, not even saying a word as you bundle the fluffy blanket around him until it’s fully covering his thin, shivering form. 

You notice that his neck is still uncovered, both skin and bandages visible—red and frigid from the wind outside. Brows knit together, you unwrap your scarf from your neck and wrap it around his neck neatly.

You think it’s a bit cute the way he’s staring up at you, bundled in thick blankets and your scarf, but you’ll never admit that.

You frown as your eyes dart down to his chapped, bleeding lips. You dab at the wet blood with a tissue before letting out a sharp sigh, wandering back over to your desk and grabbing your lip balm from your drawer. You take a step closer to Dazai again, he watches curiously as you reach out to tilt his head up.

The skin of his cheek is cold beneath your fingers and you stroke it absently, trying to warm it up a bit, before you bring the lip balm up to your lips, biting the cap to take it off before dropping it back down in your hand and placing it in your pocket. 

Dazai is uncharacteristically quiet as he watches you bring the lip balm up to his lips. You trace the outline of his lips with the balm, gentle over where they had cracked from dryness and the cold. You can feel his warm breath against your hand and you try to ignore his proximity because no, Dazai is not your boyfriend, but sometimes you wish he is—for all of his quirks and as much as he frustrates you, you care for him desperately. 

And when he’s like this, pliant under under your touch as he lets you take care of him, watching you with wide eyes filled with an indecipherable, adoring emotion… You feel it all the more intensely.

Your touch lingers for a moment as you finish coating his lips with the lip balm before you finally let your hands fall to your sides. 

“Not dating my ass,” Naomi snorts from across the room, still blatantly watching the two of you, as if you were some reality entertainment. You scowl at her and throw a pen in her direction, she only giggles and tosses you a wink. 

You shake your head and take a seat back down at your desk, putting your lip balm away and about to go back to working on the research for the infiltration mission. Before you can focus, Dazai scooches his chair closer to you. 

His cheeks are still flushed pink from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and his lips are shiny from your lip balm. He leans in a bit and you raise your eyebrows a bit in amusement. 

“Yes?” you ask quietly, lips tilted up in a small smile.

Dazai doesn’t answer for a moment, his eyes are glittering in a way that you know is dangerous but you don’t move away like you probably should. Instead, you stay still as he leans in a bit more and captures your lips in a soft kiss. It’s brief and gentle, no more than two or three seconds long, and his lips are terribly chapped and tasting of your lip balm, but it has your heart stuttering in your chest and your face feeling hot. You can hear Naomi gasp in delight, clapping her hands together, Yosano let out a deafening whoop of a cat call and Ranpo cry a loud finally!

Dazai leans back—his eyes are still shining and his lips are turned up. He looks as if he’s about to say something but before he can, the door to Fukuzawa’s office slams open and Kunikida storms out of it: “You shitty waste of bandages! You’re two hours late!” 

“Not now, Kunikida!” Yosano says loudly, intercepting the man before he can rip Dazai right out of his chair. She pushes him toward the break room, throwing the two of you a grin and a wink. You shake your head a bit in amusement.

The moment is ruined, but Dazai is undeterred, finally speaking up.

“Let me take you out later, bella?” Dazai asks, voice quiet and teasing as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning on his desk as he looks over at you.

You laugh. “The only place you’re going later is back to your apartment because you’re going to be sick, Dazai.”

Dazai pouts, over-exaggerated and dramatic but then he amends, a bit more softly, “Take care of me later?”

Your smile is gentle now as you reply with: "Always.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 2

It was a very weird ride. Danny felt like he was an authority on uncomfortable and strange conversations, given his bizarre family and all the experiences he'd had: but it was exquisitely uncomfortable sitting next to his bride sacrifice and making conversation.

The guy didn't offer his name. He was- honestly, he was built. Danny tried not to get caught visually measuring how absurdly broad the guy's shoulders were. He was weirdly offended that the cultists had sent him someone who was more ripped than he was.

"What's that?" The guy prompted. Jason. This guy's name was Jason. It was a little hard to keep in mind given he didn't really look like a Jason. He looked like… The Red Biker 👻😱🩸 or some shit.

Danny mentally rewound his own babbling and brightened when he realized that there was at least some interest in NASA's newest telescope. He infodumped on rote. It genuinely was an interesting topic! But he'd told 3 people about it already so it didn't take all of his attention.

At one point, Jason pinched his middle finger and used the grip to pull off his glove. Danny swallowed. He tried not to stare at the first glimpse of skin. It was not super light or super dark– a little tanner than Danny, maybe. Not that that said much when he was living like a cave creature in a dorm room, trying to get the grades to be an astronaut.

'He's human,' Danny thought. Of course he was, he'd been sent from earth, but-

He just felt like a ghost.

The confusion put his hackles up. It was weird to perceive this guy as a possible threat. But he wasn't! He was just some hot dummy who got caught by friggin Jeremy Waters. Jeremy. Come on. It didn't get much sadder than that.

But overall? He could see why the Infinite Realms had gotten mixed up enough to accept this guy. Red was definitely weird enough to be a ghost, dressed up for the combination war front/biker bar/club. He hadn't made a move to take off his ugly motorcycle helmet the whole time they'd been talking. It was kind of creepy, to be honest.

The most disturbing part was that he smelled, like, really good. He smelled like sexy death and Danny kinda wanted to roll around in it like the world's most educated cat.

It was with some relief that Danny bounded away from his semi husband, up the stairs to Clockwork. "You know who it is and why I'm here!" He hollered, hands making a megaphone shape around his mouth. "Help me! I'm too young to be a child bride."

"Technically," Clockwork said, floating pleasantly into view, "you are too old to be a child bride. As you are not a child, Danny."

He waved that off. "I'm a kid on the inside," he dismissed. "And 19 is basically a high schooler."

"As you say." Clockwork drifted away. Danny followed. "How is your university coursework?"

"It's fine." Danny shrugged. "The Gen Eds are giving me war flashbacks to Mr. Lancer, though."

"You liked him," Clockwork said.

Danny bristled. "I did not!"

He kinda had. Mr. Lancer could have been a lot worse.

That was beside the point. Danny caught up to his ghost mentor. "I can't be distracted from this," he said, aiming for stern. "There's some human out there who wants to go home. I also want him to go home. How do we make that happen ?"

"Why Danny, have you forgotten about portals?"

Danny scowled. "You know what I mean," he groused. "I want to send him home single. Unattached. Not married to me at all."

Clockwork finally stopped moving and looked directly at him. His large eyes held only a kind of curiosity. "I suppose that you could banish him. That would have the effect of ending your relationship."

Danny hesitated. He'd learned that accepting suggestions on their face could go very badly. "That seems kinda harsh," he said. "Would there be any repercussions of that?"

Clockwork hummed from the back of his throat. "Yes, it would prevent young Jason from becoming a ghost when he passes again. Excuse me, I want that shelf behind you."

Danny moved out of the way on reflex before he processed those words. "That sounds bad."

The older ghost seemed to shrug. "The Ghost king can banish ghosts, and your paramour is ghostly enough to qualify. It would solve your current dilemma."

He deliberately chose not to respond to the word 'paramour.'

"I'm actually looking for a solution that doesn't interfere with the state of his soul and afterlife," Danny said dryly. Then he blinked. "You're really gonna call him Jason?"

Clockwork reached up and withdrew a metal object from the shelf. It clicked in his hand. "Indeed."

Danny waited for another divorce suggestion. When Clockwork didn't give one, he groaned. "How do I find another solution?" He asked, tired. This was another test, wasn't it? It was a chance for him to problem solve on his own.

That netted him a beaming smile. "You should take him to the royal library."

"And look for information about ghost divorces?" Danny asked. Clockwork gave him an enigmatic smile.

He chose to believe that was a yes. Danny patted his mentor's shoulder. "Thanks!" He shouted, already turning on his heel. "I'll do that. Have a good day!"

"Goodbye, Danny."

Jason hadn't moved at all, sitting weirdly tense and tall in the passenger seat. Danny gave him a nervous smile as he jumped in.

"Did you find out anything?" Jason asked. His voice was even enough to obscure whatever it was he thought, and the helmet made the words come out kinda flat and mechanical.

Danny winced. "Yes and no," he said, trying to find cheerful. "The first solution seems kinda bad, to be honest, so let's go to the library and look for another one!"

"...Ghosts have public libraries?" Jason said.

"No," Danny said. And then he frowned. "Maybe? I don't know. I haven't seen one but I haven't been here long. We're going to Pariah's creepy old castle to look at his library." He started up the Specter Speeder and took off. "It's big. And he was a real creep, so he probably had, uh." He cleared his throat. "Paramours." His face was getting hot and red. Maybe it wasn't obvious. He tried to look unaffected. "Probably why that ritual was out there," he babbled. Wow, the minutes separating their destinations felt very long when he was digging a verbal hole. "He probably had a lot of sacrifices he accepted, maybe that's where the skeleton army came from actually."

"Skeleton army?" Jason managed to sound incredulous through the world's ugliest motorcycle helmet. "How do ghosts and skeletons both exist in proximity?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, if you don't need the physical body to exist, why would anyone retain their corpse?"

Danny laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's weird," he agreed.

'Don't ask me afterlife questions,' he mentally begged. 'I just work here. I don't know the answers.'

"Metaphysically-"

"Do you like sports?" Danny interrupted in a high voice.

Jason paused. "No. Do you?"

"...Not really," Danny admitted, thinking of getting ganged up on in dodgeball and knocked down in basketball.

They existed in what felt like a confused silence for a few minutes. Danny parked the Speeder outside of the castle and I clicked his seatbelt with a rush of relief. "We're here," he said. He threw open the top.

Jason didn't move from where he was flat against the backrest, only lifting his head. "... Should I come too?"

Danny blinked down at him and waved a hand in invitation. "Yeah, let's go. This is kinda my place now so I can invite you in."

Jason moved forward abruptly, like he'd just gotten unstuck from the seat. Something about it looked wrong to his hindbrain. But Danny dismissed it and started off at a jog. It wasn't his business if Jason was a weird little guy. (Weird big guy? It didn't sound the same, but Jason wasn't petite.)

Jason paused on the battlements. Danny looked back and tried to see it from his perspective. The architecture was jagged, pitch black, and without any of the friendly colorful touches a castle should have. "It's kind of creepy," he said apologetically. "Pariah has just the worst vibe. Rancid energy."

"...Is it smart to say that?" Jason wondered. He started walking again.

Danny shrugged. "What's he gonna do to me?" He asked rhetorically. "Get his butt kicked again?"

#red hot ghouls #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

[islandofsages]

hello!! I was hoping I could request gn!reader (aka Yuu) who loves dancing (and is actually really good at it, preferably something like contemporary dancing?) but hasn't told anyone in nrc. basically, the boys' reaction to stumbling upon them dancing one day!!

(requesting for cater, lilia, riddle, jamil, malleus, rook and vil!!)

thank youuuu <3

characters: riddle, cater, jamil, vil, rook, malleus and lilia x gn!yuu

tags: relationship not specified, fluff, imagines format; grim mention in riddle's, cater's, malleus' and lilia's. vil mention in cater's. kalim mention in jamil's. vil's is set in book 5

warnings: use of the word "dear" as a term of endearment in lilia's part

author's notes: i tried making them stumble yuu in different places so if they seem random thats why lol also i almost forgot about the "hasn't told anyone at nrc" part i get so carried away sometimes help 😭

Riddle Rosehearts

He has a deep appreciation for dancing and consequently, he respects anyone who is a connoisseur of the art

He would tell you everything he knows about the art and comes to you to inform you on any new things he learns about it

You would tell him that you’re a dancer yourself, especially contemporary dance; the freeing nature of your favorite form has proven to be an effective way to relieve stress and express yourself

…But you’re a bit too shy to admit that to someone as amazing as Riddle - so fate takes the matter into its own hands

You were dancing in Ramshackle’s lounge, all by yourself since Grim is napping, a luxury you don’t get to afford too often

You simply felt like it; you put on some music and suddenly your body grows a mind of its own

You were so absorbed in your performance that you didn’t manage to hear knocks rapping on your door, let alone the sound of footsteps leading up to it

Sensing no answer from you and immediately growing worried, whoever was at the door bursted in to search for you… only to be met with a you in the middle of a dance move

It takes you a few seconds to notice him standing there in awe of your movements. When you do, you instantly ran over to the source of your music and switched it off in embarrassment

He asked you why you did that and would love for you to continue dancing but you only shook your head and tell him you weren’t fully ready to show off your moves yet and that you were simply going with the flow

“I mean, that’s kinda the whole point of contemporary dancing, just going with the flow? But still, I need to choreograph some parts of it to actually look like a form of dance.”

He chuckles at your response and doesn’t push you to resume if you feel uncomfortable. You thank him for respecting your boundaries

Though everything between you goes smoothly after the incident, you’ll never forget the look on his face when he laid his eyes on: the pure wonder in his eyes told everything you needed to know.

Cater Diamond

He thinks dancing is super cool and he sometimes try to demonstrate that - and in your opinion, he’s not half-bad at it despite what Vil would say

You would show off your own moves but you don’t wanna kill his vibes, even if he’d think you’re super good at it

But one day you’ll tell him how much you love contemporary dance and the fact that it can convey every human emotion and experience; and then that day comes, though very unexpectedly you would say

It was late in the evening; the school hallways are mostly empty, save for you and Grim casually having a conversation while walking your way back to your dorm

But one glance outside gives you all the inspiration you need for an impromptu dance session - the sky is bleeding orange, blazing yellow bandaging it

Your movements shift. You are now a tribute to the sunset. Grim stands aside and watches you with a sigh but he holds back his witty comments for after you’re done with your performance

Little did you know you have another person in your audience - Cater also had late evening classes and only now he’s heading back to Heartslabyul

At least, that was his initial plan. Seeing you dancing in the hallway caught him off guard, firstly because who in their right mind would dance in the hallways but secondly (and mainly), the way you move enchanted him

Could it even be called moving? Your limbs bend and flex so smoothly that he thought they turned into water somehow

By the time you’re done, you’re given a standing ovation by both of your spectators - one of whose you jump at in shock

“Yuu, that was like, crazy good! Are you secretly some pro dancer or something?”

You blush a little at the fact that he saw you and at the compliment; after that event, it’s impossible to hide anything from him so you simply tell him everything you know

You’d give him pointers and you’re happy to see his improvement from day to day but most importantly, his shining, genuine smile is something you wouldn’t miss for the world.

Jamil Viper

You know he’s very passionate about dance and you truly admire his skill for it

Although he’d be the perfect dance partner, you feel a little self-conscious sharing your own passion for dancing with him

He seems to sparkle when he shows off his skills and you think you lack that type of shine to your own - he begs to differ though, you’ve come to learn

The two of you were hanging out in his room, music pouring out from his stereo and you drowning in it, your limbs spread out on the floor

Then your room is shaken by some unknown noise, though you can assume it’s Kalim-induced, to which Jamil sighed and excused himself to go check out and possibly fix up

You lay there on your own then, nodding your head to the music, until a song you liked dominates the speakers, taking you by surprise

You don’t know what happened but as soon as the first note hit, you’re on your feet and your body was swaying side to side

Losing your mind and body to the music felt good, but then Jamil entered the room when you were mid-dance. You would’ve stopped if it weren’t for him joining in, but not without a taunt

“What, too scared to dance with me? Come and show me what you’ve got, Yuu.”

You accepted his challenge and continued where you left off - the two of you twisted and turned and ended up on the floor lying on your backs once again, gasping for breath

The two of you laughed breathlessly. He then praised you and your dancing abilities and wondered why you never showed him how skilled you are

You shrugged, thinking it wasn’t a big deal, but then he put a hand on your shoulder and offered to have more dance-offs. You didn’t hesitate to agree

When dancing with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you were born to do this. And maybe, just maybe, you were born to meet such a wonderful person too.

Vil Schoenheit

You were a bit let down when you couldn’t actually participate as a dancer for the VDC but at the very least it allowed you to give yourself a bit more time to truly showcase your dancing to others

And hosting a training camp for the actual competitors isn’t too bad if it’s for your dorm and for something you’re passionate about

Ramshackle Dorm is lively, what with everyone there. Conflict was inevitable in this school but it did drive you crazy somewhat

One particular day, everyone was taking a break from Vil’s scrutinous training and you can feel the tension in the air

At some point, everyone left the ballroom. Only you remained seated on the floor, your back to the wall. You stared up at the ceiling and sighed. You couldn’t take this anymore

You got to your feet and simply started dancing, as quietly as you could. No music, nothing - you didn’t want to risk garnering attention by being noisy

It definitely served to alleviate some of your stress. You even smiled to yourself and at some points, fought the urge to laugh out of joy

The ballroom seemed different then. The images of your friends came into your mind - all their smiles, their frowns, the determined looks on their faces. You felt your movements growing more fluid at the thought of them

Once you’re done and panting, bent over your knees gasping for air, a loud clap reverberates in the room. Then another. Then a third. Then a figure emerges, their hands clasped

“What a pleasant surprise. You’re not bad at all. Though it’s a bit too late to recruit you, I surely hope you continue to hone that skill of yours.”

Did… did Vil Schoenheit just praise your dancing skills?

Let’s just say you took his advice to heart - it’s hard not to when it’s Vil Schoenheit himself

You also helped the others with some of your advice after the confidence boost and you’re happy to see their improvement. Seeing Vil satisfied also brought a smile to your face.

Rook Hunt

After the VDC, you found yourself more exhausted than usual by the events that occurred and you begged for a break from whatever deity is there in Twisted Wonderland. Dancing was the last thing on your mind

And for a while, that’s what you got - you were able to simply attend classes and watch your friends bicker with each other like a normal student. It was a well-needed break for everyone

Sometimes you’d chat for a bit with any familiar faces you run into and these days, you found yourself chilling by yourself in the courtyard

One day, you suddenly felt a longing to dance once more. And luckily for you, you had the courtyard all to yourself

It went from being some regular courtyard to your stage and the sun was your spotlight; you shone and you twinkled. You were like a star

And that was what you were told by the end of your performance, accompanied by applause from a singular person

“Très bien, Yuu… your performance has moved me to tears!”

Rook exclaims as he makes his way over to you; that certainly wasn’t your intention. You didn’t even think it was worth watching

But then Rook continues to comment on certain aspects of your performance, elaborating in very vivid detail. You’ve never felt so seen before

He would shower you with compliments, as if to say that you shouldn’t have a single doubt in your mind

And you hardly ever do after that since he very much threatened you to be kind to yourself or else

He would tell everyone about your wonderful skill (with your consent, of course), as if you’re his child who he’s been watching grow up over the years

He may be a bit loud about you at times but when you look over at him and see how proud he is of you, you only sigh fondly and hold back a chuckle.

Malleus Draconia

He doesn’t know a lot about the subject but he appreciates it as a form of art and expression of the people

And so you would tell him all about it while being careful to not let on that you’re one yourself which is surprisingly easier than you thought, considering how oblivious he is sometimes

He merely sees you as some sort of dance scholar and as if he doesn’t respect you a lot already, he definitely holds you in higher regard now

And somehow, that elevates to an even higher level when he suddenly finds you out

He was on his routinely walk around Ramshackle; it was a windy night, weather as pleasant as his conversations with you

Coincidentally, whilst his thoughts were on you, he spotted you in the backyard of your dorm with the ghosts and… hm? It’s brightly lit for once

Curious and wanting confirmation, he changed his route to suspiciously festive-looking Ramshackle instead

Meanwhile, you and Grim were dancing to some music the ghosts were playing for you. You all were having a simple party to forget your worries

The ghosts would comment on how you should stop outshining Grim so much, just to mess with Grim. But they had a point; you had a certain glimmer to you when you dance

Malleus saw that much when he reached your party. He stood within the frame of the backdoor, watching your every movement, entranced

After a few minutes did you notice him there, unmoving. Your steps trace their way to him instead. You extend a hand to him

“May I have this dance?”

And you may - the two of you danced, him slipping in flatteries in between moves. Maybe it was just you, but the party seemed to feel much more lively with him. No, not just the party; the whole world was.

Lilia Vanrouge

He knows a thing or two about dancing from all his adventures and he’d love to show you proof of it

So he does - he's definitely got the moves and you definitely want to show him some of your own… someday

You feel a little self-conscious about your own skills after his show but that doesn't stop you from working on your dancing. You're determined to make your skills worthy of Lilia’s attention!

Little did you know. It's futile to really hide anything from this sneaky bastard (affectionate)

You were on your way to class from Ramshackle with Grim and unfortunately for you, you had a little earworm stuck in your head that day

It started off as a skip, then two skips. By five skips, it turned into a full on dance. You felt alive, like you were a main character in a musical

Grim was making fun of you at first but then he started linking his arm with lampposts and swinging himself alongside you

Lilia was watching this all happen from afar, as one does. A student dancing their way to class is no everyday spectacle after all. And it's you too! All the more reason to play peeping tom

Just when you're about to reach the main building did he finally give you the jumpscare of a lifetime

“Why, you didn’t tell me what a wonderful dancer you are, my dear Yuu! I must admit, I feel quite offended.”

He was jesting of course - he was merely glad that he got to witness such a sight. And you’re glad that you’re not as unskilled as you thought you were

He tries his best not to boast your skills to others but you know he can never keep such hidden talent, well, hidden from his beloved Diasomnia family

You got the Diasomnia stamp of approval - not only that, but you’ve definitely impressed someone you hold dear.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x gn reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x yuu

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞.❞

How will your lover give you oral?

YouTube | Masterlist

Tips I Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

Regular intuitive readings, no 18+ ( @sefinaa )

Authors note,

Can be for both lover and future lover. I wanted to make it simplified so I added, “you have a dick or you have a vagina.” you can read which genital or whatever you prefer for yourself as yours.

Divider

Pile 1:

I see them gripping onto your legs as they spread it apart to devour their favorite meal of the day.

You have a dick:

So with your lover, or future lover, they will suck you up until you’re oozing out with cum. A messy bed, sweat everywhere and in their mouth? Your cum. I see them swirling their tongue on your dick and rapidly sucking it out as you grab their hair and push their head up and down. I also see them gripping on to the bedsheets and then your balls or thighs, depending on the situation, to suck you faster. I see them pulling away as saliva drips down to their chin and if they have breast, then down to their breasts. I see them smirking at you and not going back to it, only rubbing it to tease you until your praise them. So if you don’t praise them, they will constantly tease you and not give you head, but if you praise them, they’ll go back to until you choking on your own tears, completely overstimulated and fucked out dumb. Because I don’t see them enjoying oral sex, I see them wanting to see those pretty tears coming out of your eyes. It kind of a trophy for them, but not in a bad way, more as .. reward for you for being so good.

You have a vagina:

This is where I wish you the best.. literally. So, I see them throwing you on the bed and completely devouring it.. until it drips with your cum, sweat, and their saliva.

I see your lover spreading your vagina lips and sucking and nibbling your clitoris, while fingering your folds with 3 of their fingers as the left side of their hand caress your legs and inner thighs. I don’t see them gazing into your eyes as much, more so focusing on your intimate spot. I see them finally thrusting their fingers into your folds intensely waiting for your moans to fill the rooms. Mind you, they’re sitting at the edge of the bed as your whole body is laying and spread out for them. Next, I see them letting go of sucking on your clitoris only to use their tongue to play in your folds, lapsing their tongue on the same spot that makes you moan and grip their hair, letting your cries and whines fill their ears and echo throughout the room. I see them gripping onto your thighs for support because your legs are shaking and your body too. I see you clenching around their face and they push your thighs apart so they can keep eating you out. I am hearing you taste like heaven, literally, so you definitely take care of yourself there and I see that’s what truly amplifies their hunger for you. Anyways, I also see them removing their fingers from your pussy and sucking on them as they gaze into your eyes as well hoping it makes you embarrassed and it does. I can see you looking shy about it which is the endgame. Another thing that’s popping up is, they don’t want you to cry out, some of you will and they will feel guilty about it so.. just reassure them about it. One thing that’s important to let you all know (intuition thing), every time they eat you out, they will kiss your thigh, or your inner thigh as a thank you. (So cute).

Pile 2:

They’re a virgin so their knowledge of this is based on what they know and it’s very .. very vague. I see them learning how to do it from books mainly smut? Or something around that. Perhaps steamy books too, but I hear smut is the main thing. The thing about smut, it’s not usually accurate which is why I said it’s vague knowledge.

You have a dick:

I see them being very sloppy at it, which is pretty much adorable, because they think they’re doing so good at it. “I read all these smuts, my lover is gonna fricken love my work 👹👹” those are their thoughts. I see them guiding you throughout it and your lover will think you’re experienced with it, but you’re not. If you have done it, then you had girls who wouldn’t do it so you don’t know what you’re doing as well. But anyways, so the both of you have vague ideas about it, but your lover really has no idea. I see them bitting it.. and then you wincing about it and then they automatically feel so guilty and being apologetic about it. I see them kissing the tip of your dick as a sorry with innocence in their eyes and I hear them cursing out the last smut they read because it was so wrong. I see much of you guys doing oral with each other, but in a way, I see you teaching them how to do better with it and they’re very happy about it. Like thank you so much! Yay, type of energy.

You have a vagina:

I see your lover using their tongue the wrong way trying to eat you out as they grip onto your thighs thinking they’re the best, or Superman. They think they are eating you out like a professional but they aren’t. I see you guiding them very tenderly hoping they understand how they are supposed to give oral, but they are struggling with it. But because they adore you, they have determination to do better.

I see them looking up at your eyes for praise or some type of reassurance, you coo at them and caress their hair as they go back to eating you out softly. They don’t want to hurt you, so you made them feel a good type of vulnerability as you guided them.

I’m sure you’re aware already but they always having responsibilities on their shoulders, and they have to keep up an act of being the best, so with you they can let lose and feel alright without being the best.

Pile 3:

I see them using a sex toy, primarily a bullet vibrator, their tongue, and their fingers. It would appear they know what they're doing, they definitely have a past of having flings, one night stands, fwb, etc. They may also have a tongue piercing as well.

You have a dick:

Your special person has a tongue piercing, the way they lapse their tongue around your cock will send you flying to heaven. I see them looking up into your eyes for some type of approval and do give it to them, they’ll improve even more. I see that you praising them is what triggers them to suck you off well.

I see them using some type of pink hollow (in the center) toy, I suppose and they put it in the middle of your dick and bring it up and down, perhaps to cause some friction or to grind your dick. No idea what it is, but I see you moaning like a madman. I also see them chuckling at it. I get pure switch vibes from them, aiming towards a dominant persona. I see them licking their tongue on your tip to tickle it as they also use that toy as well, but that’s only when you’re going to hit the orgasm and you will. It’ll splatter around you, them, the bed, and their tongue.

I see them rubbing their hands on your dick, and they have long nails so, when you do make love they will scratch your back with them (if you’re into it). But anyways, they rub your cock a lot, even during public areas (if interested) or they touch it to tease you. I don’t even see them having a gag reflex, they can put your whole dick in their mouth and they would be chilling to be honest. Think of a wild party or perhaps a wild cat, that’s what I’m feeling with their energy. They definitely like giving you oral, they prefer it over them getting it, I hear they’re slightly addicted to dick.

You have a vagina:

Straight up I feel as some of your lovers (not future) has a split tongue, a tattoo in their past or I wouldn’t say a piercing, but they want it. So if that’s right then keep reading and if not, it’s not your pile.

Anyways, I see them gripping onto your thighs like their life depends on it as they devour you and use a bullet vibrator. They’ll aim it at your clit and/or push down into your folds. I see them sucking on your clit as they rub and put circles on your thighs, and then lick your folds as the vibrator is inside it, and then they will switch it up, and add the vibrator on your clit as they finger your folds and savor it. I hear your juices taste very sweet so I see them becoming addicted to it. Perhaps even eating it everyday even when they aren’t horny and when you’re on your menstruation, they will whine and pout about it, to you or internally, no in between. If they do complain about it, you will be very annoyed with it, I see you on a blanket eating something sweet as they whine and semi moan as they bury their face into the blanket and look up to you with puppy dog eyes “like hurry up with your period and let me eat you out.” I’m also hearing that you are their favorite dessert because you really do taste sweet, not the salty taste, like literally very sweet. So yeah, you’re gonna kill them on your period.

I see when they’re really horny, they will make you sit on their face and eat you out. I think out of a majority of the positions of eating someone out, it’s you sitting on their face because they can see everything, your vagina, breasts, and your ecstasy in your facial expressions. And they love it. They will sometime grip onto your breast and massage it in circular motions and let them hand slowly move down to your hips as they put circular motions on it to accelerate your orgasm onto their tongue.

#18+ tarot #free tarot readings #tarot reading #pick a photo #collective reading #tarot community #channeled message #free tarot #PAC #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #divination #tarot deck #tarot readers of tumblr #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarot #tarot cards #tarot witch #witchy #witches of tumblr #witch community #witchcraft #oracle #spicymessages #18+ only #18+ post #18+ content #18+ minors dni

[driaswrld]

🪷 — THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT. . . UNRELEASED PUBLICATION 01 !

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, this author has stumbled upon a shockingly salacious tale in the dark corridors of the gojo palace... 2.3k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader smut!! pure smut not tied into main plot, only an alternate of current storyline. fem reader, cunnilingus, creampie, yk the gist guys (also my first full smut piece 😵‍💫) for all the prince toru girlies who got their hearts SHATTERED </3

🪷 taglist : @yunymphs @prttyangelz @jaerang @rayahayumi @kurosaaki @ayanominitrash @lordbugs @xxemmarldxx @ltadoriyuujl @gods-landing @sabrinexx @aphroditisxc @sweeteaas @nikitopia @konekobby @loafgeto @/hanatoru

series mlist. prev. chapter

CHAPTER TWO (B) . . .˚ ༘ *

GRAPE FLAVORED : LACE EDITION.

Satoru dips his head in a swift motion, his mouth planting a ghost of a kiss to the corner of your lips, and his dimples deepen when your head moves forward to chase his taste, something you’ve never had but crave with every inch of your being.

“Satoru.” You whisper, desperate. He hates himself for wanting this so bad.

He doesn't make you wait long as he presses his lips to yours, it's rough, hungry — he sighs into your mouth, shoulders drooping like he’s finally found what he's been searching for all his life on your tongue.

He’s kissed you before, on the cheek, side of your neck, corner of your mouth — tasted the salty tears of your youth, licked his lips and drank in the remnants of your flavored lipgloss.

He was too young then, too foolish, too afraid to want more.

Satoru’s tongue slips past your parted lips, teeth on wet pink muscle and a shiver runs down his spine when he tastes you, truly tastes you for the first time.

Grape flavored and starving.

A guttural groan leaves his throat when you reach a hand out to tug at the front of his pants to pull him closer. The crowned prince’s knees buckle, digging deeper into the floor beneath him.

Do you even know all the ways a woman can be seduced?

“There's so much I could teach you,” his arms hook under your knees the moment your tongue tangles with his, free hand shifting the skirts of your dress and searching like a man on a treasure hunt. “So much you could learn, pretty.”

“Teach me,” you plead, lips wet and chest already heaving.

Satoru murmurs a sound of disapproval against your neck, his tongue sucking the skin at the collar of your throat. “Not yet, have’ta give you a gift of my own first.”

( so he is jealous then ? )

Your thighs shiver when his cold hands snake under your dress, your arms looping around his neck to tug him closer to your body.

“Why do they put you in so many layers— s-shit.” His complaints falter when his palm cups the lace adorning your heat.

Satoru Gojo isn't a pious man, but this must be a gift from God.

“You're too fucking good.” Satoru groans, scooting back on his knees to hike up the layers of your dress.

He has to see the color of your panties. Has to see the lace design he knows is strewn across your pretty pussy— because you're a lace girl, never silk, Suguru doesn't know you, hasn't known you the way Satoru has.

It's vulgar.

“Satoru, waitwait—!” Falls on deaf ears, because he’s already hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your lacy panties, pulling the fabric to stretch, playing with it as your folds slick up, a wet patch forming.

He toys with the edges of the lace, pulls and pulls until he lets it snap back against your front, his breathing going ragged with each sharp inhale you take.

He likes playing with you like this.

“Look at that.” Satoru pulls your panties to the side, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Pretty girl ‘s crying for me. . .” He spreads your folds with his index and middle, his cock straining against his pants, begging for relief.

“Don't just look at it like that— you're odd!”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb over your pulsing clit, flicking the bud teasingly. “Don't break my heart, princess.”

There's an undertone to his words as he sinks two fingers into your weeping whole, pumping against spots you couldn't reach with your own.

Satoru bullies his fingers into you, searching endlessly for something he thinks he’ll never find.

tell me no one’s touched you like this, tell me it's only me, tell me it’s not him—

Your hips rise to rock against his fingers and he stifles a laugh, almost bitterly. He knows better, but you're as better as the best gets.

“Hold this f’me, yeah?” Before you can question it, the skirts of your dress are bunched into your lap as Satoru’s head dips between your thighs.

“Fuck—” your mouth goes agape as his tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds, his fingers scissoring and stretching you open in time with his licks, tongue flattening and curling and flattening and curling. “How do you even—”

how many girls have you kissed like this?

Satoru mumbles something against your clit that you don't hear, but it vibrates through your core as his tongue slips into your hole, eagerly fucking you and sucking up your juices.

Now this is a royal scandal.

“Tastes just as sweet as I knew it would,” he moans, grinding his hips against the foot of the sofa, using his other arm to push against your knee, spreading you wider for better access. “Would go to war for this pussy, baby.”

Your head spins.

You knew of Satoru's. . . appetites as a Prince.

But experiencing it firsthand? Every lap of his tongue at your entrance, every stretch of his fingers has you seeing stars.

“‘Toru—! mmph, too much,” Your hips buck against his mouth, your head falling back against the window.

The night air doesn't help cool your skin with how hot your entire body feels.

“Too much?” Satoru repeats, mockingly. His cheeks hollow as he curls his fingers, pressing against that spongy spot that has your hips quivering, lips suckling your bundle of nerves. “C’mon, you cryin?”

“M’ not— not crying. . .” You sob, thighs squeezing around his head. He slides his fingers out of you, using both hands to hike your legs over his shoulders. “So good, it's so good.”

You feel him grin against your cunt as he dives back in, his tongue and fingers tag teaming between abusing your clit in harsh circles and thrusting into your drooling hole.

He’s getting off to the praise, his hips pressed firm against the sofa as he whines against you, your ankles crossed between his shoulder blades, heels digging into his back. “Can't get enough of you.”

“Please, wan’ta cum—” Tears escape the corner of your eyes, your thighs trembling and walls convulsing around his fingers. “Gonna cum— mhm, stopstop—!”

Satoru groans against your cunt when your back arches and your hips drive against his face like a woman possessed, his nose brushing your clit just right as your high hits you hard.

“I’ll replace these.” Satoru rasps, pulling away from you with a soft squelch.

“Replace? What do you—” You can't see the expression on his face with how his head’s hidden under your dress, but your heart pounds in your chest when his fingers wrap around one of your ankles in a soft caress.

The realization hits you then, as the liquid cools and fabric sticks to the inside of your thigh.

He’s talking about your panties.

“Lace is so pretty on you,” he murmurs, fiddling with the buttons of his pants, careless to his haphazard movements as his cock springs free, curved at an angle and beading with precum at the tip. “You don't know what you do to me, I swear.”

Lace.

Like the glove you gifted him your favor with.

Your face floods with heat when he flips the rest of your dress up, your gaze never leaving his hardened cock, the way it looks so angry at you.

It comes to you then as he looks up at you, snowy hair matted, nose to chin glistening with your slick and eyes hung low.

Prince Satoru, your childhood bestfriend, just ate you out.

And he's about to fuck you.

Satoru grasps both your ankles, letting his grip trail down to your thighs as he rises to his feet.

“You're a lady. A Princess— fuck,” Your hand reaches down to wrap your fist around his hot length, and it jolts to your touch.

You deserve better, he wants to say. Better than having your legs spread open for him in a dark corridor.

“Forgive me.” Satoru pushes your thighs down to meet your chest, effectively folding your body in half for him.

i'm sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry — i love you, i’m jealous.

And you whine, your arousal dripping down your thighs, still not fully recovered from your first high. “I'm gonna fuck you like anything but a lady.” His hot length bucks forward through your fist to bump against your folds and you bite your lip at the sensation.

He’s painfully hard and spilling precum, slipping back and forth across your pussy lips.

“Let me in, princess, please, I need you.” You pump his length in a few languid strokes and he shudders as you guide his cock to prod at your entrance. “I’ll fucking die if I don't—”

With bated breath and barely any restraint, Satoru rocks his hips forward, his tip sinking between your puffy folds and popping in.

“Pretty girl.” He moans, pushing forward until he's buried to the hilt, his cock curving to prod against your insides, deep.

“Satoru—” You gasp, your walls clenching at the penetration and his brows dip as he leans over your body, kissing the side of your neck. “I know, baby. . . fuck, squeezing me so tight—”

“C-can't help it,” you whimper as he rolls his hips forward, slow at first, so you feel every inch of him filling you up, like you were hollow before this.

Satoru lets out a sharp whine, almost girlish when he picks up the pace, fucking himself into you with deep slams, one hand leaving your thigh to tug at the front of your dress, using it as grip to fuck you rougher.

It's desperate.

“Hear that?” He whispers against your skin, each pump of his hips has his balls slapping against your ass in loud wet smacks, your cunt squelching around his cock, all sensitive and gushing for him, just like he imagined.

“We're kissing down there, pretty.” He chuckles breathily.

You’d scold him but you chuckle between a moan, his hips jerking forward harshly at how your pussy squeezes him in just from that. “I-it’s so hot—”

“Sucking me in— so needy,” he grunts, slipping his other hand between you to roll your sensitive bud under his thumb. “So loud and filthy, knew you wanted this as much as I did, baby. Wanted me to fuck you like this for so long, hm?”

“Satoru!” Your back arches off the sofa as you bite back a sob, your hips rocking to meet each of his thrusts. “Wanted it— wanted you so bad.”

“Who’s making you feel so good, huh?” Satoru pants, pressing his weight down onto your body, caging you under him as his thrusts become borderline feral, the top of your dress beginning to rip from the strength of his grip. “Say it, shit, say it—”

tell me it's me and not him. tell me only i can make you feel this good.

“Y-you,” you choke out, your lungs burning as you try to catch your breath.

Satoru slows his thrusts to a grind, unsatisfied with your answer, fucking you shallow and drawing it out, his tip pressing against your sweet spots making you see white.

“Princess,” he grunts in warning, applying more pressure to your clit, your body writhing beneath him. “Don't tell me that pretty little head ‘s all fuzzy now.”

“‘Toru, please—” Your palms push at Satoru’s chest, nails digging into his shirt, the coil in your core wound tight and teetering at the edge, but he won't push it past the edge. Not yet. “It's you, my Prince— ‘s you, Satoru!”

Your Prince.

You barely get the last syllable out before he’s bullying his cock into you in harsh strokes, the sweet plap plap plap of his body against yours is drowned out by all the things he whispers in your ear, only me, nobody else, you’re mine, gonna fuck you full so you won't forget.

“Wanna cum, ‘toru,” you cry and he bites down on your shoulder, as he exchanges his grip on your thighs for your your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucks into you with reckless abandon, sweat collecting at his brow.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” Satoru presses his mouth against yours in a disoriented kiss, moaning into your mouth as your walls convulse around him, his cock twitching and swelling inside you. “Cum all over my cock baby, make your Prince a mess.”

Your hips move on their own, your body flushing with pleasure and the coil inside your belly snapping, giving way to your second high.

Your legs wrap around Satoru’s waist, pulling him impossibly deeper into you while you climax, his own breathing going short.

“T-tight, fuck, gonna make me cum—” Satoru lets go of your hips and reaches for your hands, interlacing them with his above your head, his thrusts growing sloppy as he gets closer.

“Look at me, yeah, look at me when you make me cum. Look at what you do to me, pretty.”

Satoru pushes his body flush against yours as his cock twitches, his hips stuttering and nose pressed against yours, mouth open with a loud moan when he unloads, spilling himself inside you in thick spurts.

He hugs you close to his body with a few soft thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you with broken whines, his body slumped atop yours as he rides out the rest of your highs, the air cooling and settling.

“Think I got carried away,” Satoru whispers, pressing gentle kisses across your face, and a chaste one to your lips as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed pink.

“You think?” You pant, biting back a laugh, to which he buries his face in your neck. “We need to go—”

“Don't feel like it,” he mumbles, nuzzling close to you, and your eyes flit to the window, taking in the stars.

You bring a hand up to card through his hair, and he sighs at the feeling.

“But, the ball—” You try to protest, but he cuts you off by squeezing you close to him, impossibly close. “And the grape juice—”

“I’ll replace the dress too.” Satoru whispers. “Nothing else matters— just a little longer.”

You feel him smile into your neck and you roll your eyes, laying your head back with an exasperated sigh of your own.

“Just a little longer, then.”

#⋆ 🪷 A ROYAL AFFAIR ! ˚ ༘ * #👑 TSCC — series. #🎀 r18 ! #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut

[taifenggg]

hii I'm not exactly sure if your request is open, but nonetheless, I'm just going to drop it here. feel free to do or ignore it.

requesting for solomon, simeon, and satan hcs : they're currently out going to a bookstore with their s/o. y/n is a huge fan of reading and loves to take their time reading the contents of a book before buying. so imagine at that time, the guy spots them being lost in deep of reading, and he decided to sneak up behind them, only to discover their s/o is currently reading a steamy part of the book while smiling and blushing. make it NSFW or not is up to you. thank you and have a nice day! :)

Content Warning(s): NSFW duh, semi-public sex, mentions of exhibitionism but you don't actually do anything(Satan), spanking(Satan), probably ooc Simeon? idk

Character(s): GN!Reader, Solomon, Satan, Simeon

Authors Note(s): hehe hawhaw horny, anyways my first nsfw request! tysm for reading my guidelines <3.

MINORS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YO ASSES IM BEING FR, interact with my sfw stuff instead <33

Please keep in mind I'm still learning how to write smut so please bear with me LMAO

nsfw under the cut!

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

Guidelines for NSFW Content [ ◇ ]

Solomon [🪄🤍]

Solomon adores your adorable reactions whenever he sees you reading a book that you're invested in. You're his adorable apprentice and lover after all! He finds many things to appreciate about you. From the way you squeal with excitement after getting to the part where the main character finally kisses their love interest after what feels like forever, or your little gasps as your eyes race across the page taking in an exciting battle scene, he loves it all.

Solomon could just spend all day watching you react over your favorite books and it strangely gives him a sense of satisfaction as he watches you gush over your favorite books to him.

Solomon isn't that surprised when he sees that you've reached the spicy part of the book you were reading, your reaction gives it all away. The two of you had decided to take an impromptu date to one of the newly opened bookstores by Ristorante Six. You had split from Solomon for a bit, opting to look over the numerous books they had in stock. One moment you were there and in the next, Solomon turned around, noticing that you had disappeared from his side. When he did find you, he discovered you sitting in a secluded corner, your eyes wide as you read the contents of a book. You didn't notice him as he walked up to you and leaned in close, a knowing smile on his face.

"Wow, you look awfully familiar, although it isn't like me to not recognize someone as good-looking as you," Solomon laughs softly, teasing you as he takes a seat next to you, draping an arm around your shoulder. Your face grows flushed as you angle your book away from him. "Hi handsome," you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling your face grow warm as you try to discreetly set the book to the side but you wince as you accidentally let go of it too early and it clatters against the floor.

Solomon stares at you a slight smile on his face before reaching over and picking up the book, faster than you can stop him. "Solomon give it back!" You reach over and grab his arm, but he opens it, his smile splitting wider on his face as he holds it above you preventing you from taking it away from him. "No, I don't think I will," he laughs more continuing to read the contents relishing in the way your face flushed even more.

"So..." he leans over you, a playful smile on his face as his hand starts trailing down to your waist where he squeezes it gently. "What should I do with you hm? Would you like me to reenact the very scene you were reading, my dear apprentice~?" His nose brushes against yours and you shrink back, your breath hitching in your throat as he cages you in against the chair. Your mouth feels dry and you clear your throat to speak up, "Don't-" You press a hand to his chest, halting his movements. You feel your face grow warm as you turn to the side, "We'll get caught."

Solomon stares down at you, laughing softly as he ruffles your hair. You pout at his actions, moving to grab his hand, but instead, Solomon interlaces his fingers with yours. "We'll only get caught if we make noise." His free hand moves upwards from your side, his fingers brushing against your collarbone and you squirm, your legs shaking slightly, from the anticipation of getting down and dirty or the thought of getting caught by some bystander passing by, you didn't know. You could feel a warmth pooling in your nether regions, and against your better judgment, you pulled him closer.

"Dammit...but you better make this up to me later for making me lose my page," you scowled. Solomon chuckles softly his bangs hanging over his eyes, "Oh trust me, I always keep up my end of a deal."

Satan [😾💚]

He enjoys his outings with you, especially when the two of you visit his favorite bookstore in the Devildom. There are vintage and rare tomes that you're unable to find anywhere else. They also host a variety of different books.

Satan himself fancies romance novels. He likes to envision himself and you as the main protagonists in each. Of course, he also indulges in the more risqué novels, and his face flushes at the thought of committing such acts with you.

So imagine his surprise when he finds you reading that type of novel. A grin splits open on his face and soon he finds himself pressing himself on you against the bookshelf. It wobbles and the numerous books threaten to cascade over the side onto the two of you. Satan doesn't miss the small gasp of surprise you make as you feel his body rocking against yours. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear causing you to shudder underneath him and you feel your legs grow weak as he continues rutting against you.

"You feel so good~" Satan smirks as he rubs his hand along your ass before smacking it lightly causing you to jolt up, "Already so wet for me, are you so eager for this? Or perhaps you're enjoying the thrill of potentially being caught hm? Or would you rather like it if I took you against the window where everyone walking past can see you drooling from how good I'm going to make you feel?" You can't even utter a word, focused on the feeling of his fingers prodding at your hole.

"Satan please-" you whine softly, trying to keep your noise level down so you don't get caught by the other customers within the bookstore. Your grip on the bookshelf tightens as you try to keep your balance, some of the books have already fallen out and are strewn haphazardly over the floor. Normally, Satan would have let out a scandalized gasp and would have picked up every single one but in the situation the two of you were in at the moment, it seemed he couldn't bring himself to care. You bite your lip as you feel his erection rub up against your ass, trying to keep your moans under control.

"Do you feel that? That's what you do to me," he laughs softly, pressing his face into your neck, nipping lightly. This causes you to squirm more, inadvertently rubbing against him more, eliciting some breathy groans from Satan's end.

You can hear him muttering to himself and the sound of him fumbling with his belt as he flips you around so that you're face to face. "Why don't you take some responsibility and...help me out? Does that sound good to you?"

Simeon [🥞🩵]

Simeon loves his outings with you, especially when your dates with him are unhindered by the presence of the brothers who constantly crave and demand your attention. Simeon knows that you're immensely popular in the Devildom, not that he minds. But there are times when he prefers silence and just enjoying his time with you.

Simeon is not naive by any means. He's more than aware of the types of books that you read and look for whenever the two of you visit your favorite bookstore, not that he minds. After all, who is he to tell you what you can and can't read.

Today's date isn't any much different than what the two of you usually do when you plan a bookstore date. Have a nice dinner at Ristorante Six, walk around for a bit, then end the date by spending some time reading at your favorite bookstore. Seems nice right? Thankfully it doesn't seem too busy.

"Simeon-" you gasp out, fingers digging into his shoulders. "How naughty, reading this where anyone could just walk up behind you." Simeon teasingly scolds you. You bite your lip, averting your gaze from his. Simeon laughs, pressing his hand against your cheek, "You're adorable, do you know that?" You huff, feeling your face grow warm. "Well you can't blame me for being interested in reading that sort of thing, especially when my boyfriend is so hot. It's not that hard to envision it's us doing what the characters are doing.." you mumble, feeling your face grow warmer from embarrassment.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Simeon smiles softly, tilting your face so that you're looking at him, "These urges are completely normal, though I do wish you had told me sooner so I could have done this." You stare at him in confusion, until you watch him lean in more, the feeling of his lips pressing against yours. You groan softly in the kiss, arms pulling him in closer as you deepen it. Your tongue brushes against his bottom lip and you feel Simeon shiver against you. His hands rest against your hip occasionally dipping underneath the hem of your shirt but never further. When the two of you break off the kiss, you're both gasping for air and there's a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You cling to him, pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck. You lean up, lips brushing his ear, your tempted to bite his earlobe bjt you hold off...for now. "Fuck...I need you so badly," you whine softly into his ear, feeling his figure stiffen against you. "Can't you feel how much I need you?" you smirk, taking one of his hands and pressing it down there. You bite back a moan, watching for his reaction. Simeon's eyes are closed, but you could sense his resolve wavering.

"Please~"

And that's all it takes for Simeon's last semblance of control to snap. He's tugging you out the door and back towards Purgatory Hall, his footsteps hurried.

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