#much more simple than i usually draw him but it was fun

[achelouise]

my love, my muse —kaveh

fandom: genshin

pairing: kaveh x reader!

a/n: i just realized i hadn’t written for kaveh, which is a crime against humanity. also kaveh x muse!reader brainrot sjzjjwjzjqjjajajajh (also switching formats, iiiiiii have no idea what im doing, can you tell)

— student!kaveh, who, even though loathed and respected his project partner to bits, would rather die than ever try to draw him for an assignment. “don’t even think about it,” he hisses, just as alhaitham quirks an unimpressed eyebrow. he understands that he has many friends and acquaintances that are willing to pose for him, but a small voice in the back of his head needles at him- telling him that no, we cannot create art with them as our muse. and to him, nothing is more important than making sure every single artwork he produces is with the utmost sincerity.

— student!kaveh, whose resolve crumbles bit after bit as the deadline creeps up, with no model to look for in sight, and is starting to think perhaps he should turn to his volunteering friends after all. he cannot compromise his diligence for his passion as a scholar, and so he heads to pupsa café, hoping to buy some coffee to prepare for his all-nighter that night.

—student!kaveh, who doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until he hears a cheery, unfamiliar voice bring it up- and he tilts his head up to find that he spilled all the coffee in his mouth onto his shirt (much to your alarm).

“you,” he gurgles, “you’re the muse i’ve been looking for!”

“excuse me?”

— perhaps he was a bit sleep-deprived, which explained his lack of inhibition, but student!kaveh latches onto you like a moth to a flame, stars swirling in his eyes. are you a student of the akademiya? which darshan are you from? which nation were you from to bless you with such beautiful eyes? could you be his muse? he asks them all, because he has to know.

— student!kaveh, who only later apologizes for his overbearing first-impression, while swearing up and down he wasn’t like that usually, and explaining his current predicament. perhaps you pitied him, or found him quite charming- whichever it was, you accepted his proposal to be his muse in exchange for some funds, much to his delight.

“thank you, thank you, oh, thank you! my assignment won’t be so lifeless after all!”

— student!kaveh, who arranges a time and place for you at his dorm with a sense of bravery he has absolutely no idea where he picked up from. when you come in with the most random set of outfit he’s ever seen, he chooses to hold back his tongue over your enthusiastic participation.

“sit tight!” he says, holding comically large canvas whose shadow swallowed up the whole room, “relax, and do whatever your heart tells you to do.”

— student!kaveh, who usually simply sketches things out of pure photographic memory, starts simple and structured for once. where would the chair go? where would you sit? would you look too stretched out if the table properties next to you weren’t matching? where should he exaggerate? how would the chandelier be hanging to get the perfect lighting? how would the painting behind you affect the composition?

— student!kaveh, who usually lets his hand dance on his canvas, plans everything out this time, and lets his mind flourish under the guidance of your radiant beauty. your soft smile, your relaxed posture, and your twinkling eyes lets him have fun- and he finds joy in drawing backgrounds, especially the furniture, for once- to emphasize the way you pose.

— student!kaveh, who drinks an ungodly amount of coffee every night and lets his sheer will do the rest, stops by in the kitchen to make you some snacks. he worries for you; “are you alright? is this posture tiring you? do you want water? i can get some for you. do you want some snacks, too? we can take a break. i don’t have much here, but i can always make a quick trip to the market.”

— student!kaveh, who finds joy in conversation with you while he works. you seem to harbor a decent amount of knowledge fitting for a scholar. if you talk about other subjects, kaveh’s more than willing to listen. if you enjoy studying architecture, that’s fine too! whatever the topic is, you both seem to have an endless stream of opinions and discussions to open up about, and watching your mouth run off on any particular topic brings him much satisfaction. it is always fascinating to understand another person deeply interested in a subject.

— student!kaveh, who starts to explore other color schemes in order to find the perfect one for you. your radiance is something that should be brought out and emphasized on his canvas, something future generations can look at and admire. maybe a bit of pink for the shadow? how about purple to shade your hair instead of gray? would yellow compliment your shoes? he thinks of them all, dabbling in this and that, until his palette blooms in different smears of colors.

— student!kaveh, who is willing to go on a rant to explain how you were the perfect muse, how your smile made his hand itch to draw it out, how your eyes crinkled and held the weight of your soul, how- oh. did he say muse? would you like to be? kaveh doesn’t mind in the slightest if you could continue to. in fact, how about he treats you to a nice meal tonight? the sun is setting, anyway, and it’ll be his way of saying thank you. (please say yes.)

— student!kaveh, who, after half an hour of deliberation on whether parting his bangs in a certain angle would make him look more presentable or not, shows up that night at the venue with a small sketchbook in his hands, telling you not to worry about it. every time your lips turn a certain way, or when the light hits your hand just right, he frantically sketches it down underneath the table, much to your confusion.

“did you enjoy the meal? hm? that? oh, it’s nothing. please, go on. you said something about how your friend could aether-edit?”

it was a pleasant time, despite him constantly dodging your questions on what in teyvat’s name he’s doing, and believing the constant rush he feels inside his head whenever you laugh is perfectly normal. you’re his muse, aren’t you? it’s only natural.

(and if the dinner spreads any rumors- well, kaveh thinks it’s normal to feel giddy, too.)

— student!kaveh, who, when looking at his graded paper days later, is pleased to know it is graded with high praise. the professor even commented on how he is finally starting to get a firm grasp on studying basic anatomy of architecture. (hmph. he thinks he was pretty good at anatomy up until then as well, but okay.) good- he’s put a lot of effort into that painting.

— student!kaveh, who insists on thanking you for the high grade again, the next time you run into each other- only this time with a bouquet of flowers, and a blush on his face.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin kaveh x reader

[nesperus]

accursed beast

#tried a pixely kinda style for this one idk #much more simple than i usually draw him but it was fun #this was for his spotify playlist so it didn’t need to be too crazy #two versions bc i like both #my art #sage doodles #pixel art #digital art #art #oc #caros

[jazzzzzzhands]

Give me your answer, do

I'm half crazy, all for the love of You!

#wally darling #welcome home #jazzart #primary colors #ok but im really proud of this #and the background was easier than i thought haha #i wanted to keep it simple so he popped out more #i worked so hard and long on this ;w; #the flowers were SO much fun! #edit: I GAVE HIM 5 FINGERS #im upset #because i usually only draw 4 all the time #what came over me??? #welcome home arg

[hannieehaee]

Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?

content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.

wc: 1156

a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.

well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.

he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.

now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.

you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.

despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).

today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.

he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.

jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.

as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.

"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.

"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"

"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."

"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.

by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.

"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.

"hannie, don't lie to me."

"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"

"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.

the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.

"jeonghan, apologize to him."

"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.

"you heard me."

"but–"

"hannie!"

"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."

"than–"

"thank you", you interrupted the man.

jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.

after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.

"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.

"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.

"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.

despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.

"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.

you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.

"are you not?", you inquired.

"i am, but they dont need to know that!"

"you're so annoying ..."

"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"

"im not at liberty of releasing that information."

he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff

[nicoliharu]

Coli!! Hi hi good morning!! Do you have any Headcanons for Ruggie?? Like, when you draw him do you have anything you always include or leave out? Just curious hehe I love your art!! Have a nice day <3 <3 <3

Hi Dede! Thanks for the ask🥺😭💗

I will comment on what I would like to do differently when I draw him cause for me you write him PERFECT and I wouldn't change anything! This guy is precious and needs love to know he isn't inferior to anyone! 😭💗

⚠️ My headcanons (design) Ruggie Bucchi:

So, aren't that many changes, it's just simple, the way I usually imagine him 🥺👉👈

🍩 Skin: Ruggie has more melanin, I personally love Ruggie with any skin tone but forgive me Yana but it's hard to resist painting his skin like that.

I mean, I think it goes much better with his color palette. Personally, I would paint with this palette for him in my fanart and content forever. I want to eternally thank whoever had the idea of giving more melanin to his plush 🥺💗 I don't know if it's my laptop screen that's old, but it looks a little desaturated, but I'll adjust over time.

🍩 Blonde lashes: I still need to practice more cause I love the idea that Ruggie would have some blonde lashes, not gold and flashy but brown light 🥺

🍩 Freckles: Excessive on the nose/cheeks, ends of the arms, and a lot on the back…IT'S CANON IN MY HEAD, YANA YOU FAILED ME, HOW YOU DARE?? HOW CAN YOU NOT GIVE HIM FRECKLES?😭

🍩 Body hair: Well, he's a guy who's growing, he's about to turn 18, there's no chance no have body hair. Besides, I believe that beastmen have more body hair than humans, so for Ruggie I imagine golden hair but if it gets wet it turns a little brown, on the arms and legs 😔👉👈

🍩 Eye pupil: I know that's normal but I like to think that his pupil becomes ''thin'' (how in English is this?) when he feels threatened or annoyed by something and dilates when he sees something that interests/likes him.

🍩 Teeth: Bigger and thicker than Leona and Jack. Please, spotted hyenas have a bone-breaking bite and tear thick skins too. Ruggie canonically said he can easily eat steak with bones…Oh gosh if he likes bite who he lov- STOP NICOLI SHHHH

🍩 Hair: A little rough and messy with some split ends, I don't think he cares much about any special shampoo or conditioner, taking care of his hair. Besides, I think he occasionally cuts it with scissors on his own. I know I could leave it wavy or curly but thinking that rough bristles remind me of hyenas' fur makes me so 🥺

🍩 Body: We know that Ruggie's thin cause his condition but I believe that his legs and arms are ''strong'' of cause the acrobatic way in which he moves, both day to day, running and practicing at the Club. I don't mean bulging muscles but you realize that given his activities and abilities it makes sense!!! 😔

🍩 About the piercing: it was a detail I wanted to add but I don't know if I always imagine him with that or not 🤡👌

Forgive my grammar and English mistakes! These are my humble headcanons for Ruggie's design, if anyone thinks differently this is just fun for everyone, y'all have the right to imagine how they want. And I would like to say one more thing, about other details that I can only talk about better with more drawings, such as excess hair with spots above his tail (I love this detail too). So there will always be changes for everything!

Thank you again for your ask Dede, you're a wonderful writer that I admire so much and love your works! 🥺😭💗💗💗

#my headcanons for Ruggie bucchi #personal #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #twst savanaclaw #twst fanart #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #savanaclaw #my art

[swordcreature]

hi! any hcs for the tiefling bachelor trio + sharing a bath with their partner?

hi anon ty for this request!

i struggled a bit on whether or not i wanted to include tub sex or just stick to a simple, intimate "they bathe each other" kind of thing.

but i can't resist adding in some minor smut when i can

what can i say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Sharing a Bath

contains sexual content MDNI/18+

Sharing a bath with the tiefling boys

Dammon: 

Dammon’s tub is smaller, made to fit in the limited space of his home. He doesn’t have a lot of fancy soaps or oils, just the necessities, but he does take the time to make the bath as hot as you like it.  

Sharing a bath with him is as much for the intimacy as it is for getting clean. It’s about the experience.  

Which means he’s very handsy in the bath. Not always in a sexual sense either, just a lot of physical contact, solely for the sake of feeling you. The moment you sit down he pulls you towards him to sit between his legs with your back to his chest.  

And even though you’re pressed tightly against him, it’s not enough. 

His hands roam everywhere, not an inch of skin left untouched. Running his hands down your arms, palms smoothing over your sides, claws tracing the inside of your thighs. Something about the way the warm water heats your skin makes it irresistible. Well, more so than usual. 

Dammon offers to help wash you as an excuse to touch you more, to bring you close and lavish you with attention. He always picks out soap that smells like him, his not-so-secret way of staking his claim, so to speak.  

If you offer to wash him, he’ll let you, but it’s not as much fun for him. He very much prefers lathering you up, getting you sudsy and slippery, and so soft. He does enjoy having his hair washed though. Especially if you have nails to give him a gentle scratch while you gently work through some tangles.  

He loves to fool around in the bath and most times you feel him already hard by the time you sit back against him. His hands still roam you, but he’s hungrier than usual, the gentle passes of his hands turn into squeezes, groping his favorite, most plush parts of you.  

When he knows you’re willing, he spreads you with your back still to him so that he can tease you. Feeling you so prone and vulnerable, legs wide open and head resting back on his shoulder, makes the blood rush to his cock. He rocks it against you for any bit of friction he can get.  

But at some point, it’s too much for both of you, and he quickly turns you around to ride him. It’s messy. Water splashes everywhere; Dammon tries to buck up into you at the same pace you take him, but the tub is much too small to do it effectively.  

So he gets up abruptly and carries you out of the bath, both soaked and dripping (in more ways than one). He tosses you onto the bed, too excited to do much else besides climb on top and finish what you started. Most days the water never even has a chance to cool before you’re out and on the bed.  

Rolan:  

Rolan prepares a luxurious bath. Lots of fresh soaps that smell like delicate flowers and fragrant herbs that supposedly make your skin soft. When he draws the water for both of you, it’s not usually for bathing. It’s for fun and relaxation. A time to pamper each other.  

At first you sit at opposite ends of the bath, each with a full glass of wine, talking about the day and what needs done tomorrow. He enjoys winding down with you, listening to you talk and watching as you sink down further into the water with loose muscles. Being able to provide you with such lavishness brings him immense satisfaction.  

As you both have a little more to drink, he beckons you closer, pulling you to sit at his side where he can wrap himself around you better. One arm at the edge of the tub against your shoulders, the other gently running circles over the skin not under water. He likes to watch the goose bumps form as his warmed fingers brush over your chilled chest.  

The conversation becomes more intimate, now only whispers and hushed giggles as you leave no space between you. Breathing each other’s air. Sharing slow, buzzed kisses. Rolan wants nothing more than to feel as if you two are the only ones in the world in that moment.  

He keeps the bath hot for as long as you want, as long as you’re willing to indulge him with your lips and your soft touch. You also magically never run out of wine, either.  

For the most part, sex in the bath isn’t Rolan’s favorite. Particularly because of how unruly things can get. That doesn’t mean he won’t indulge when the time is right.  

As you sit together, arms and legs twisted together, he’ll untangle you from him to pull you onto his lap to straddle his thigh. He grabs at your hips, moving them in a lazy rhythm that passes your core right over the ridges of his thigh. 

When you find the right speed he relents, watching you grind yourself against him, careful to keep you from going too fast and splashing water over the tub. He grips his cock in one hand to work it in time to your movements.  

But you take over with an eager pump of your hand. You both rock into each other, growing more desperate. Rolan kisses you with wet, warm lips as you move together in the oiled water of the bath. Everything is slick and hot, and soon you both reach your peaks, gasping into each other’s mouth.  

Rolan is quick to get out of the bath after that, but he’s more than willing to wrap you in a towel and lead you to bed where your night continues.  

Zevlor: 

For Zevlor, baths are usually all about utility. It’s something he picked up while in command and has been hard to forget. He uses a cheap, clean smelling soap – the same kind he has used since he was a cadet. He’s never had time or patience for anything fancier. A real military guy. 

He’s hesitant when you broach the subject of taking a bath together, not sure if he’d enjoy soaking for longer than the several minutes it takes him to bathe. But still, he agrees.  

And he loves it.  

At first, he’s awkward, trying to give you space despite his long legs taking up a lot of space. When you position him to lean back against you, his head resting on your shoulder with your body pressed next to his, he relaxes, lowering down into the water ever so slightly. His tense muscles start to relax. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this: your hands cupping water over his hair, fingers working over his scalp as you lather up the soap, lips pressing against his temple when he closes his eyes.  

Zevlor’s almost asleep when you whisper for him to lean back further so that you can rinse the suds from his hair. He’s never felt so relaxed in his life. Even as the water cools, he’s more than willing to keep still, indulging in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your hands smoothing over the plane of his chest.  

The water is too cold for you to properly bathe by the time he finally stirs. But you don’t mind, especially after seeing the serene look on Zevlor’s face as he relaxed in your arms. 

When he’s laying back in your embrace, eyes closed and breathing even, it’s hard to resist letting your hands glide down the lean muscle of his body until you reach his length. He twitches with surprise as you cup his balls in your palm, his cock hardening almost instantly.  

You rub your hand up his shaft and back down, taking him in your fist to work him over lightly.  

His hips buck haphazardly, too relaxed to control himself. You continue just like that, lips tickling the point of his ear as you whisper praise for how good he feels in your grip.  

It doesn’t take him long to finish after the intimacy of the bath and the practiced way you touch him. When you both are warmed up and dried off, he takes his time returning the favor.  

It’s not long before he asks for you to join him in the bath again.  

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #dammon #rolan #zevlor #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #dammon x reader #baldur's gate 3 #HCs #requests/suggestions #anon #bg3 headcanons #my writing

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #dark lloyd ranson #dark ransom drysdale #dark!andy barber #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!ransom drysdale #andy barber x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #multicharacter #multifandom #knives out #the gray man #defending jacob #series #three for one

[fcthots]

thinking about fake dating jason and falling in love.

it happens slowly and quietly, so slow you don’t even notice it.

and then you turn around and you’re head over heels for him, no idea how it happened.

-🍓

Anon, if i ever gain the ability to write full fics, this is the first thing i'm writing.

might turn this into an au and let y'all request scenes (tattooartist!jason style)

It started off simple. He needed a date to the gala. the press was brutal and he was a Wayne. He didn't want to put anyone in that sort of spotlight. He had a dark past and didn't want anyone to get dragged into it. You were bored, needed a date to a wedding, and you cared about your friend. Also, it helped that he was willing to pay you because he felt bad about the whole press thing. It was nothing more than an arrangement between friends, a way for you to help him out. He's always been there for you, no matter what. You didn't think twice about returning the favor.

He was sweet in public. Held your hand, kissed your cheek, always asked if you were up for a kiss when he thought it was necessary. His hand was always warm and comforting on your waist. It grounded. you, kept you in the moment with him. You loved hanging out with him. The arrangement had let allowed you to hand out with him all the time, anywhere and everywhere. There were some comments made about you in the press, but the negative ones didn't bother you (how could they think you were the bad influence, secret identity or not, he was the one with murders under his belt!) and there were some nice things. You ha your past delved into, which wasn't exactly fun, but Jason had warned you it would happen and oracle made sure everything traceable wasn't bad. Overall, it was fun. You got to hang out with your best friend 24/7 and you got some new instagram followers and fun edits made of you along the way.

When it did inevitably get a little rough, Jason was there for you, like always. He took care of all the truly nasty things the press had to say about you. He always respected your boundaries, and he took you on vacation when it all got too much, even if he had to leave early for a Gotham emergency.

Things had to be believable, of course, so there needed to be couple's pictures on your social media. He needed to lay down with you. He needed to press his body up against yours. he needed to wrap his arms around you. He needed to draw you so close to him that there wasn't any given one inch of space in between you. He needed to press his face to your chest and close his eyes.

Right?

He just needed the picture to look believable. That was all.

So why did he stay cuddled into you? Why did he fall asleep there like he was made to fit? Like it was the only place he's ever wanted to be?

And why did it make you want.

After that, you spent all of your time wanting. Wanting more. The arrangement was perfect. It gave you everything it was supposed to. So why did you want more? Why did you wish Jason would stop apologizing when he said he had to kiss you? Why did your heart sink when his hands left yours after you were away from prying eyes? When did the edits people made of you go from fun to painful, a reminder of the way you wished he really looked at you? Why did you wish he wasn't faking it.

And, fuck that hurt, because he was just faking it all, right? He only looked at you like you were his world when someone else was looking. He didn't want you.

Not like you wanted him.

"Why do you look like that?" His voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Your eyes drift to him where he's sitting on the couch, his phone long forgotten timing out and turning off in his hand.

"What?" Your eyebrows had just lightly drawn together, your voice duller than usual.

"You look sad. What's on your mind?" His face looks a little worried. His eyes searched yours. You hope he can't see the truth lying beneath them.

What were you supposed to tell him? That this wasn't just a game to you anymore? That you can't stomach him holding your hand not because he means it? That you're taking advantage of him? That when he kisses you, you pretend it's real?

You don't meet his eyes. "I can't do this anymore."

#fake dating au #fakeboyfriend!jason #fake boyfriend!jason #saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #saph’s thots #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader angst #red hood x reader angst #red hood angst #angst #🍓 anon

[judeswhore]

i wanna kiss your lips; mason mount

summary: your past relationships have been anything but giving and mason just has to change that

pairing: best friend!mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, oral (f) receiving

notes: you can find my masterlist here. uhm surprise? this was a half finished piece in my drafts and i thought teehee maybe i’ll post so here she is

“you’ve never had an orgasm?” mason’s tone was one of complete disbelief, the look in his eyes a perfect match. he gazed at you from the other end of the sofa, the movie playing on his tv long since forgotten.

“well, i have by myself, but not with anyone else.”

“never?”

“nope.”

“not even josh?” you snorted at this, gazed into the bowl of popcorn on your lap in search of a piece that looked extra sweet. mason was watching you with furrowed brows, his body turned to face yours, one arm against the back of the sofa. there was a pillow in his lap and he picked at a loose piece of thread.

“especially not josh.” you shrugged like it was nothing, curling your feet up under yourself as you matched his position. you stared at him head on, even as you spoke the next few words. “most guys only care about getting themselves off, half the time they can’t even tell if you’ve finished or not. they fuck you and take what they want and that’s it, sometimes it’s too much effort and to them where’s the fun in that?”

“too much effort?” mason was perplexed. too much effort is not a phrase he would use in regards to making his girl cum, in fact that was the best part, the fun part. drawing it out as long as possible, edging them with your fingers and tongue until they’re begging and falling apart from one simple touch. to him, sex is boring if the foreplay isn’t drawn out and full of teasing.

“it takes a while for me. i can’t-“ you shrugged again, heat blossoming over your skin because why were you talking about this with mason? the boy who’d put worms in your sandwiches when you were little? your friendship was open and carefree and yeah you’d often discussed your sex lives but this felt like a step too far. but you’d already started now, what would be the point in stopping. “i can’t just cum in two minutes. it takes more than just a couple fingers or whatever and the guys i’ve been with found that tiring. who wants to be with a girl who’s wound so tight it takes her forever to cum? they usually try for a few minutes, get bored and sometimes a little annoyed so i fake it, we fuck, they leave. i’ve learnt to take care of myself once they’re gone.”

you weren’t entirely sure how you’d gotten on to that topic, you’d been talking about your ex being back in town and one thing led to another until you were confessing your deepest, darkest secrets. well, it wasn’t exactly deep or dark but it was definitely a secret. twenty three years old and you were yet to find a man who could make you finish, over dramatic moans and fake orgasms had long since become your closest friend. it was this confession, and your best friends need to be good at everything, that had landed you in a pretty surprising position.

naked in his bed.

“y’can tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” mason was settled between your legs, his mouth hot on the inside of your thigh and all you could do was nod. you swallowed thickly, hands pressed into the soft cotton of his bedsheets because you didn’t know where else to put them. mason’s hair looked inviting but you were nervous, afraid you’d pull too hard, worried he might not like having the soft strands yanked. that on top of you usual anxieties over not being able to cum had your heart pounding in your chest. your best friend was no idiot and he could sense your inner turmoil from a mile away.

he propped himself up on his elbows and kissed your knee.

“tell me this is okay. if it’s not we can stop, pretend it never happened.”

“no,” you shook your head rather aggressively. mason hadn’t even touched you yet and you were soaked, wound up simply by thinking about what he was going to do to you. not a single part of you wanted him to stop. “this is okay.”

“yeah? you’re sure?”

“positive.” he blew out a soft breath, a half laugh, that hit your pussy, made you clench around nothing. you might find it difficult coming at the hands of someone else but you were always extra sensitive. the fact that this was mason was somehow intensifying that.

“good because i really wanna eat you out.” you had no reply for that but he didn’t seem to mind, he was kissing your thigh again, trailing his mouth to that hot spot between your legs but never actually touching you. he switched to your other thigh, nipped and sucked until you were shifting impatiently, subtly lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

“mason.”

“shh, m’taking my time. this is what you deserve.” he pressed a hand to your stomach to hold you down, his other hand hooking under your knee, pushing outward to open you up for him. you were completely on show to him, every inch of you and despite that initial anxiety, a larger part of you felt like this was meant to be. there was no one who made you feel safer than mason.

he kissed your hip, nuzzled his nose against the soft skin of your thigh before his mouth hovered over your pussy. his gaze flicked up to yours, a gentle smile curving his lips.

“you’re so beautiful, baby.” it took everything in you not to buck towards his mouth, your fingers twisting into the sheets. his smile turned dirty in an instant. “got the prettiest pussy, gonna treat her right, yeah? gonna show you how good it feels.” you could only nod, tummy twisting at his words. dirty talk always got you off, pushed you closer to that edge but again, some guys just don’t do it right. you could already tell this wasn’t going to be a problem with mason.

the second his tongue touched you a shaky breath blew past your lips, your eyes falling closed. he licked a single broad stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, tongue flat to cover as much of you as possible. he repeated the motion, humming at the taste of you, cleaning up the wetness that had gathered just from his proposition. the kiss he pressed to your clit had your thighs tensing beneath his hands.

“taste so good, sweetheart.” he teased the tip of his tongue against your hole, dipped inside just slightly before he was licking through your folds again. at your clit he stopped, pointed his tongue and repeatedly flicked over the swollen bud, grinning at the high pitched whine it pulled from you. “yeah? like that?”

“yeah, i-“

“shh, it’s okay, just relax for me.” mason’s hand smoothed over your thigh, pressed you open a little more and went back to flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. pleasure was curling low at the base of your spine, the very first sparks of fire. this was usually as far as it would get, your orgasm would build halfway before fizzling out of reach.

his lips closed around your clit, sucked softly until your hips were lifting off the bed, bucking towards his mouth and he was chuckling low in the back of his throat. the sound vibrated through you, made you half choke on a whimper, your fingers pulling at the sheets. he pulled back and kissed the skin around your pussy, ignored the parts which were begging for him. his hand was suddenly reaching for yours, fingers soft around your wrist as he pried yours from the sheets and guided them to his head. he pushed until your fingers threaded through the soft strands of hair.

“want you to tug on my hair, not my sheets.” you couldn’t reply because he was buried back between your thighs, tongue running through your folds, licking at your clit, pressing just slightly inside you before retreating again. he kept the pressure on your clit light, just bordering on teasing and it was driving you insane, the steady build up of pleasure growing heavier.

with your hands in his hair you pushed, urged him to increase the pressure. he caught on almost immediately, swirled his tongue around it before flicking back and forth, your mouth dropping open on a quiet moan. that moan turned into a soft yelp when his teeth grazed your clit. it was a foreign feeling but one that had you gushing with even more arousal.

“don’t hold back, i want you to be loud. want my neighbours to know how good i’m giving it to you.” you made some unintelligible sound, tugging a little at his hair in acknowledgment and mason sucked your clit in reply. he suctioned it into his mouth with a deep groan and your orgasm creeped a little bit closer. at this point, your past partners would have given up, would have huffed in annoyance until you faked your orgasm and they could fuck you.

mason, however, had lost no momentum and was showing no signs of letting up, his attention to your pussy and your reactions to his mouth keeping him going. he’d caught on that you liked teasing just a little, that you liked when he worked you to a point with the tip of his tongue before flattening it and letting it fizzle out. that was what drew out your orgasm, time and teasing. you were a wet mess, dripping down on to his sheets, stickying your thighs and the lower half of his face and you whined loudly when he pressed his tongue into your hole.

his nose bumped your clit repeatedly from the position, your pussy clenching with need and you couldn’t help the harsh yank to his hair.

“oh my god, fuck. don’t-don’t stop.” your head tipped back, a string of moans and curses falling past your lips as mason continued fucking you with his tongue. each time his nose rubbed over your clit a desperate whimper fell from you, your grip on his hair tight enough that it bordered on painful. he pulled back, gave one large lick up your pussy before meeting your gaze.

“tell me what you need.” you blinked at him, trying to clear the fog in your head. you were already so close, a feeling you’d never felt with anyone else bubbling in your tummy but even you knew you still needed a little bit more. true, you could probably cum from mason’s tongue alone if he kept going, but you wanted just that little bit more. you brushed his hair back with your fingers, focused your gaze on his mouth, lips plump and glistening and there was an overwhelming need to kiss him.

you were aware the two of you had crossed a line in your friendship, had done something you couldn’t come back from. but this was sex. unfeeling, detached, a transaction of sorts. mason can prove you can cum with other people, you get an orgasm when you’d only been expecting a movie and popcorn tonight. but kissing was different. kissing meant something to you and you couldn’t kiss him and move on. something at the back of your mind suggested you weren’t going to be able to move on from this, but that was for future you to worry about. right now you just wanted to cum.

“fingers, i want your fingers.” it was breathless, your voice broken and scratchy from your keening moans and whines. mason cocked his head, grinning slowly as he bent his head and kissed just above your clit.

“yeah? want me to fuck you open with them? bet i can have you coming in minutes, baby.” he shifted between your legs and brought his hand up, middle and pointer finger settling in front of your mouth. his grin turned into a smirk, eyes sparkling with heated lust. “be a good girl and get them nice and wet for me.” you were quick to do as you were told, lips wrapping around his fingers, tongue swirling around them until they were coated in saliva. you let them go with a dramatic pop, not once breaking eye contact, even as mason settled back between your thighs.

your legs had closed slightly and he nudged them back open with a chastising nip to the soft skin. the tips of his fingers teased your hole, circled it for a second as his gaze locked on your pussy.

“you’re making a mess of my sheets.” there was nothing to say to that and so you simply let your head fall back on to the pillow, eyes closing again when he pressed both fingers into you. he moved slowly, let your walls relax around him before he hooked them up and slowly retreated. “god, you’re so fucking tight, don’t even think my cock would fit.” it was a throwaway comment, actual sex wasn’t on the table but his words still made you clench, the thought of him burying himself inside you pulling a high pitched whine from your throat.

“make me cum, please. i wanna cum.”

“i know, sweetheart, i’m gonna, just enjoy it.” he started fucking you slowly, fingers pressing against all of your sensitive parts, hitting deeper than yours ever could. the thumb on his other hand had found your clit and was rubbing tight circles over it, the trembles in your thighs an indication to you both that you were hurtling towards the edge. the wet sounds of your pussy and mason’s low praises broke through your constant string of moans and whimpers. “that’s it. taking it so good, babe, look at you. pussy’s just begging me to fuck her, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

his tongue was on your clit again, flicking over it to match the pace and rhythm of his fingers and each time they hooked inside of you, you tipped a little bit closer. your clit was swollen and throbbing beneath his tongue, the feeling intensifying when he sucked it between his lips. he hummed against, thrust his fingers in a little harder, stretching you open to a point you wished it was his cock filling you up.

“such a pretty girl, you gonna cum for me? come on, i wanna feel it.” fingers in his hair, you pulled a little harder, legs starting to shake and your orgasm was only inches out of reach. the pads of his fingers repeatedly bullied into that sensitive spot deep inside of you, the feeling so intense tears had gathered on your lash line as your mouth dropped open, moans and whimpers of mason’s name filling the air.

“m’so close, mase, it feels so good.”

“mhm, being such a good girl, fuck i wish i could stay here all night.” you whined, back arching off the bed and his free hand had to press you back down, applying the slightest bit of pressure to your lower tummy. he could tell how close you were, knew your orgasm was just dangling out of reach and he took a chance as he pulled his lips from you clit. “play with your tits for me, babe.”

half delirious you did as told, one hand still tugging at mason’s hair but the other moved up to cup your boob, squeezing and massaging the way you did when you were alone. praises filtered up from between your legs and then he was back to tonguing your clit, his fingers fucking you a little harder. you pinched your nipple and mason crooked his fingers and your orgasm hit you like a wave.

a high pitched moan, one that definitely sounded like a cry, fell from your lips as your back lifted off the mattress, fingers tangled so tight in mason’s hair it was a miracle you hadn’t pulled any out. your pussy clenched so tight around his fingers, slick walls hugging them back in each time he pulled them out, working you through the most intense orgasm of your life. mason kept muttering praises the whole time, telling you how good you did, how pretty you were, how badly he wants to fuck you until you cry.

it takes a few moments, a couple slow pumps of his fingers and ever slower laps of his tongue before the waves of pleasure die down and the roaring in your ears subsides. you’d gushed around his fingers, made a mess of him and the bed but he didn’t seem to mind, eagerly cleaning you up with broad licks when he finally pulled his fingers free. you were too sensitive, clit pulsing and with a shake of your head you pushed at mason’s forehead, whimpering quietly when he pressed a final kiss to the little bud.

he sat back on his knees, watched you through hooded eyes as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, licked them clean of your cum while you watched with a heaving chest. your body was on fire, pussy sensitive but somehow feeling empty now and it was difficult to miss the bulge in mason’s joggers. he drew his fingers from his lips and flopped down beside you, his shoulder warm against your bare skin.

“so, how was that for a first orgasm?”

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #mason mount fic #mason mount one shot

[pocket-watcher]

I slowly opened the door. My roommates had been acting weird the past few days, but I’d shrugged it off.

There, leaning against his desk on one side of the room was Carter. Sitting on Carter’s bed, one of the few places there were to sit in the room, was Myles.

“Uh… you needed me?” I looked up at Carter. His usually playful demeanour was slightly off. I looked at Myles to see if he had any clue what was going on but he seemed like his usual smiley self.

“Yes… what do you know about hypnosis?” Carter asked.

My face felt hot, and so, I bluffed.

“Not much. I think I saw it in some TV shows?” I felt my voice go higher than normal.

His eyes lit up in challenge.

“Do you believe in it?” He asked again. Myles seemed confused too.

“Not really, I mean. It’s kinda sci-fi, right?” I laughed it off - pushing down any thoughts of he knows he knows oh god he knows-

“Maybe. What about you, Myles? Do you believe in hypnosis?” Carter had a mischievous look in his eyes.

Myles brushed it off. “Nah, of course not. It’s like flying or telekinesis or something.”

Carter locked eyes with me.

“Wanna see a cool trick?” He asked, raising his fingers to snap.

“No!” I heard my own voice ring out.

There wasn’t any fear or attempt to stop this from Myles. Just confusion. From me, however?

I’d just given myself away.

Carter snapped and Myles’ head dropped instantly, rolling back and forth before settling in the centre of his chest.

Carter grinned wickedly.

“What did you do?!” I gasped, running over to him. “Myles? Can you hear me?”

No response.

“What did I do?” Carter asked, still not moving from where he was leaning. I kept one eye on him as I shook Myles, getting more desperate. “Why, the same thing I’m about to do to you.”

The statement echoed inside my head. Fear. Dread. Excitement.

I slowly turned to look at Carter.

“Myles, stand.” Carter ordered.

Myles’ eyes opened, half-lidded, mouth agape. He stood and I backed away from him.

“Good boy.” Carter praised.

I started to panic. Shit. Do I run for the door? Both of them are faster than me. Stronger than me too, probably. Why the fuck didn’t I run more or go to the gym or-

Myles mindlessly lunged for me. I scrambled to get away but faltered as the only direction of escape was right towards Carter.

He was waiting there. Watching. Smiling. As if it was all going exactly to plan.

Myles grabbed both of my arms. I’d backed into him in fear, recoiling from Carter at the last second. I struggled but, just as I’d thought, I couldn’t break free.

For the first time during this ordeal Carter stood up and approached us. I looked away, getting a full look at Myles’ blank face looking straight ahead, no matter how much I pleaded with him to just listen to me.

“I understand.” Carter cooed. “You don’t want to submit to me straight away. You like the chase. The struggle. But I know you want to give in to me…”

I looked at him defiantly. The wrong decision. Maybe if I’d thought more about it I’d have realised that was exactly what he wanted.

Carter’s eyes were deep, swirling, drawing me in.

I’d always found him attractive, but now? Now it was like I was losing myself in his eyes. My thoughts slowed. My heartbeat quickened.

I felt my head begin to bow. I tried to look away. Really, I did. But Myles’ hand grabbed my chin and forced my eyes forward once more.

Carter looked at me proudly, as if he’d ensnared his pray. He looked hungry. Cocking his head from side to side and eyes shining as I mirrored his movements.

I felt a smile slowly form on my lips. I was drowning, sinking into his eyes. At some point Myles let go of my arms and began massaging my shoulders. Deeper, deeper. He must’ve known my legs were too weak to run.

It was all so meticulously planned, like a checklist.

Lure me in? Check.

Use Myles to stop me from leaving? Check.

Send me deeper? Check.

Make me lose focus? Check.

Staring into those gorgeous eyes? Check.

As simple and as easy as 1.. 2.. 3…

“You’re doing great. Both of you. Oh the fun we’re going to have with two of you now…”

#good boys make more good toys what can I say #it’s one of the hottest hypnotic situations out there #hypnosis #hypnok1nk #mind control #brainwashing #hypnotized #mindfuck #watcher writes #watcher’s stories

[vampbunnis]

boothill x writer&reading enthusiast!reader!!

wc: 680

tags - fluff!!!!!, hurt/comfort without the hurt, so just comfort, this is my first fanfic EVER!?!?!?, lots of projection, probably inaccurate portrayal of boothill srrie, boothill calls u darlin'/sugar, this is really really messy oops

a/n - the story kinda diverges into them just reading a simple book written by someone else but the idea was that they'd slowly work into reading more n more complex stuffs-- which eventually include reader's works !! tbh i like to think even if boothill doesn't fully understand yet he'd still wanna know what reader is writing. i'll probably rewrite this sometime in the future with the same concept, diff execution b/c this lowkey didn't turn out how i wanted it to ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

he feels bad and a little insecure about his illiteracy!! because he bets you're so so talented in what you do but he literally cannot appreciate what you write :((

sometimes he wonders if you'd be happier if you were with someone who was able to fully understand all of you-- all of your cute rambles about the usage of different literary devices in the books you were reading, all of the times you cried over dystopian novels and heart-crushing personal narratives and profound, emotional sentences that he just didn't have the capacity to understand.

when he sits you down one night and confides in you about this, your first course of action is to comfort him (obviously!!).

"trust me, i don't love you any less just 'cause you dunno how to read," you coo, peppering his warm face with loving kisses. "if i had to be with anyone else, i'd be sad forever knowing you'd still be out there. i love you, don't forget that, 'kay?"

you can see his worry-addled face relax a bit as you remind him of just how much you love him-- but you can still notice the crestfallen look in his eyes. you realize he has been worrying about this for a while; possibly since the first time you told him you were a writer.

you come up with a plan.

he's a little confused the first time you lay in bed earlier than usual with a book in hand, gesturing excitedly for him to join you under the covers. you usually read books on your own, no?

it didn't take him long to notice a difference between the book you were holding and the books you usually read.

he saw a few of the books you'd read previously-- they were thick, way thicker than the book in front of him now, and definitely way smaller in size. the covers also had pretty big differences. the covers of your usual books were much more mature-looking-- like they were meant to be read by adults. this book, however... had a fat, crudely drawn green caterpillar on the cover.

his metallic body slips underneath the sheets, relaxing on the mattress. he protectively wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"what's this, darlin'?" he asks, pointing to the book with his free hand.

"the very hungry caterpillar," you reply, a bright smile on your face. you pause for a bit before speaking up again.

"i feel like i've been making you feel bad by leaving you out of my passion for literature-- i mean, reading, and writing and whatnot. i'm not the best teacher, but i still wanna share this part of me with you."

he has to try his hardest not to explode on the spot.

"'s alright, sugar, 's not your fault," he murmurs, gently caressing your side in an attempt to comfort you. "did 'ya get this book just f'me?"

you nodded, the solemn look on your face suddenly being replaced with one of excitement.

"this book is real simple, so i can read it to 'ya and hopefully you might learn a few things," you smile, giving him a peck on the cheek as you open the book.

since he barely knows how to read, you have to read the entire book out loud to him. that doesn't bother you, not in the slightest. in fact, you'd say it's even more fun that way.

he starts to snicker as the drawing of the caterpillar slowly gets bigger and bigger, eating food in larger quantities as the pages flip.

after you shut the book closed and put it on the nightstand, you turn to him. "how'd you like the book?"

"it was so stupid," he grins. "that [beautiful] caterpillar was still hungry after eatin' all that?"

you burst into giggles, hugging him tighter as you laugh. "mhm, i guess so. it's like me whenever you take me out to get fast food."

"oh, don't compare your pretty self to that thing," he smirks, tucking the both of you under the covers.

#⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 별빛이의 글쓰기 #⊹.(⸝⸝ ˆ ³(⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)˚. byeolhill #boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

[bubblybloob]

There they all are in their feathery glory!

Explanations below

I didn’t want to do anything flashy for The Long Quiet, so I just gave him a simple scarf.

The Voice of The Hero I took a lot from my original design, I also kinda fused a cape with his wings? He can still fly? It’s just weird.

The Contrarian I gave a jester look, with a funky collar and some eye makeup

The Broken was one of the most interesting and fun. His wings have been cut off and his nails are broken beyond repair, as a representation of his lack of agency and readiness to hand his life over. He’s dressed in raggedy clothes with chains that he just can’t seem to pull off.

The Smitten wears a flashy, short cape, and flowers tend to bloom from his eyes and ears, he is blind and deaf to all but his love.

The Hunted is almost always puffed up, trying to look bigger and scarier than he is. His nails are long and sharp, and he wears camouflage to hide his bright white features.

The Paranoid needs a sense of security, and a cowl is the closest thing to a hoodie in medieval times. He’s so nervous that I feel he’d unconsciously pluck at his wings, they’re so disheveled that he can’t fly.

The Skeptic has this air of “I know more than you” to him? If that’s makes sense? So I gave him a poet shirt. Not much to it, I just really wanted to put him in a poet shirt. Oh and a ponytail.

The Cheated wears something a noble might, he has that sort of snarky attitude a noble might have. He also talks about cards and games a lot, so I attached a card theme to him. Sometimes they change card symbols, I don’t know if I’ll have it be mood based or not.

The Stubborn is wrapped up in a bunch of bandages, and the eyepatch and cleft ear is from that scene at the end with the Shifting Mound from the adversary’s perspective where your eye has been punched out and your ear looks like it might’ve been ripped.

The Opportunist I gave a thieving look, he has that attitude. As well as another ponytail, can’t have feathers getting in the way of the backstabbing move.

And that’s them! Now if you don’t mind me I’m going to go die now, my drawing arm hurts.

Edit: I forgot the Cold, damn

Someone suggested medieval assassin wear because he always insists on the princess being dead, and she usually is when he shows up. Also the wisps in his eyes? He has heavily impaired vision, because his worldview is so skewed.

#slay the princess #art #stp voices #stp the long quiet #voice of the hero #voice of the contrarian #voice of the broken #voice of the smitten #voice of the hunted #voice of the paranoid #voice of the cold #voice of the skeptic #voice of the cheated #voice of the stubborn #voice of the opportunist #my art #many thanks to those who gave suggestions #if you see this underneath the mountain of other tags

[gh0st-author]

dress.

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader summary: Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out.

tags: fluff, very suggestive (nothing explicit but it is heated)

warnings: as i said it is very suggestive, they also unalive a nobleman

A/N: so this wasn't originally meant to be posted, it was just something in my drafts, but since it happened to be William's birthday today i thought i might as well finish it. so happy birthday Liam here's your cake

Another glance in his direction, across the crowded hall. Another hidden smile from him. You knew you shouldn't; this game you were playing was too perilous, too dangerous. You weren't supposed to goad William like this. But you simply couldn't resist. Usually, you or Albert were the ones who found themselves at these events, because as the oldest brother he had too keep up the appearances most often, but this night was different. Tonight, William was present as well. He was right beside his brother, a picture-perfect gentleman, charming and captivating. It was an incredibly rare occurrence as he preferred to work behind the scenes, not really drawing attention to himself more than necessary. And unlucky for you, all your attention happened to be on him tonight, despite the risk of it endangering the mission. But it was too addicting. The music too sensual. The candlelight too dim. The perfumes too intoxicating. And the game you presented him with too enjoyable. Another taste of your wine. Another brush of his gaze. You needed to make sure that no one was the wiser to the desperation building beneath your skin. You were dancing around an open flame, stretching out your body above it, hoping to not get incarcerated by the proximity. Still, you couldn't be blamed, it was so rare for you to see your lover adorned so dashingly.

It was all subtle. Your glass against your lips. Your tongue lightly catching the droplets soaking them. His intense glance catching the act. And it was fun, so incredibly amusing to for once toy with him like this given the chance, to slowly gnaw away at his immaculate control that he prided himself on so and wore like a mask. You still remembered the words you whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom earlier today, the memory of them flashing through your mind making your lips stretch into a devious grin. This is a secret, but my gown for tonight... it was bought specifically with you in mind. Much more than wearing it, I am anticipating what you will do with it later tonight after we return. You could still feel the tremble that raced down William's spine, could still hear his low, tortured groan and uneven whisper of: Do not tempt me, darling. Being aware of the effect you had on your lover and feeling the desire simmering between you too was heady, to say the least.

Alas, no matter how much you wanted to give into your desires, you were a performer, both for him and for the Lord you were tasked with distracting tonight. And a performer had to play her role outstandingly. Your secret moments and glances would have to stay just that— secret. For no one could know you were affiliated with him. You were just another face in the crowd, an unassuming bejeweled rose without thorns. These glimmering banquets were your battlefield, your wit and your charm your weapons, which you brandished flawlessly with every new job you were assigned by the brothers. Meeting William and working with him only served to hone them more— a simple touch here, a sweet whisper there, and your targets were putty under your fingers, ready to follow you wherever you wished. Which usually happened to be their untimely but deserved demise at the hands of you or one of the others from the group. And for as long as they and William had any use of you, you would continue to play your part in their plans without a fault.

Deciding against continuing this game between you two for now, you downed your glass and set out to find your target— Lord Brownlow. He was a local aristocrat rumored to kidnap young ladies from such events and traffic them on the black market. In other words, a perfect target to be bewitched and disposed of by you. After a quick search, you found him, surrounded by numerous important individuals. Even from where you were standing you could see his false smiles and his calculating glances to the women around him. Your act already in place, you sauntered over to him, gown swaying with your movements, your practiced smile of awe and admiration plastered on your face. "Lord Brownlow, a pleasure to meet you."

You were a novelty, a new interesting toy for him to play with. The conversation flowed from your lips effortlessly, each word a careful trap meant to ensnare the Lord's attention, to keep him guessing and wanting more. Each move a thought-out maneuver to entice him and cloud his judgment. You listened to his stories attentively, smiled and nodded when expected, and stroked his ego when he so wished. And what an ego he had. He was so filled to the brim with his own self-importance that he steered you around forcing you into a conversation with any noble he could, no doubt to brag about his own status and to show off how well off he was. Still, you participated beautifully, never letting your true nature show.

After who knows what number of nobles, he turned to you, still keen on continuing. "Do you mind if I introduce you to another one of my acquaintances?

You smiled at him mindlessly, feigned admiration painted across your features. As if you were truly interested in anything he had to say, hanging onto his every word. "None at all, Lord Brownlow. Please, lead the way."

Pleased with your apparent high regard for him and your respect, he hurriedly led you through the throngs of people, seeking out the aforementioned noble. Your gaze darted around, attempting to pinpoint the person in question. Only when his gait hastened with renewed purpose, having found who he was searching for, did you manage to catch a glimpse of the man that had caught his eye.

And...

Oh, well, who would've thought? It seemed that tonight was indeed your lucky night, for he was leading you straight to the object of your obsession tonight. You briefly considered the possibility of William having arranged this beforehand, but the look of delighted surprise on his face as you and the Lord neared him convinced you otherwise. So, a lucky coincidence it seemed. Or a fate-given opportunity? No, of course not. Even though it might not have been planned for him and the Lord to converse like this, it was far from a coincidence. You knew William and him were acquainted, but by the genuine eagerness with which Lord Brownlow was leading you to him, it seemed as if William took the phrase 'keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer' quite literally. Always aligning and governing his pawns, that cunning mind of his.

The Lord halted right in front of him, proudly puffing out his chest. No doubt, hoping to impress you with his arsenal of connections— with his importance. "This is Lord William Moriarty. Second son of the deceased Earl Moriarty. We met a short while ago and happened to become quite familiar with each other."

William turned to regard you fully, his scarlet gaze bright but betraying nothing. As you stood before him like this, you felt weirdly exposed, despite the opulent gown— or maybe exactly because of it. You arrived separately so as to not raise any suspicion so he didn't have the chance to admire you from up close. His face was a perfect polite mask, but you knew he was drinking up your visage like a man starved. Everywhere his gaze touched burned so pleasurably you never wished for it to stop. In fact, all of this silence and patience, waiting and pining in anticipation, made you more eager— made you crave more. You wanted him to trace wherever he looked with his hands, his lips. Your own hands were shaking from holding back from touching him.

Acting like the perfect pawn you were, you buried your need deep beneath your vast experience in lying and deceit, using it as a cover to dampen the inferno in you, and held out your hand courteously for him to kiss. Not a trace of a woman currently longing, yearning, craving. "I don't believe we have been acquainted, Lord Moriarty."

Never taking his eyes off yours, he raised your hand to his lips, leaving it there much longer than necessary. The kiss was almost a promise— or a threat. You weren't sure which. "Indeed we are not, I would have remembered a woman as stunning as you are."

You fought your instinctive pull to draw closer to him, to see just how close you could slot your body against his. To get lost in his knowing gaze. Instead, you chose to slowly pull your hand away and giggle behind it. "Oh, you flatter me, my Lord. I am sure someone of your caliber has ample choice of ladies aiming for your attention."

The smile he gave you was pure serpentine curling of the lips, the look in his eyes pure hunter regarding his prey. "I assure you, my attentions lay elsewhere."

My attention is only on you, his look seemed to say. Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating so loud you were afraid he and Lord Brownlow could hear it. So careful. They had to be so incredibly careful. They were threading a fine line, one misstep and it could all come crashing down around them.

"His attention is only always focused on his work, he never entertains the women around him." Lord Brownlow sighed, seemingly unaware of the building tension between you and William. A perfect figure of an older gentleman concerned for the youth, as if he was giving sound advice out of genuine benevolence. "Honestly, Lord Moriarty, you should follow your older brother's example. Now, Lord Albert knows how to entertain a lady. It's not a good idea for a noble gentleman such as yourself to always keep his head in the books."

William diverted his attention from you to the Lord, chuckling gently as if this entire meeting was just a pleasant interaction. A born noble navigating the labyrinth of high society magnificently. The irony was not lost on you. "I will keep your words in mind, Lord Brownlow."

It was getting harder and harder to keep focused with him so close, yet thoroughly out of reach. It was due time for you to leave and initiate the next phase of the plan. Deciding that one last stunt was in order, you grabbed your target's hand, feigning interest in him, but you were only looking at the man in front of you. "Lord Brownlow, I am sure Lord Moriarty knows how to entertain himself. What do you say we make our way to the dance floor." You ran your hand down the front of your dress as if showing it off, but in truth, you drew attention to the way the corset hugged your curves. "After all, I just bought this dress today, it would be a shame for me to wear it and not be seen dancing in it."

It was a momentary weakness, a flash of that fire in his eyes gone instantaneously, almost as fast as it appeared. Oh, he looked so composed yet his self-control was frying at the edges, unraveling thread by thread with each passing moment. He, too, played his role of a respectable noble magnificently, only the slight sharpening of his gaze and an almost imperceptible sly curling of his lips betraying his rapidly waning restraint.

You offered him your most innocent smile. "Please excuse us, Lord Moriarty." Your words were the sweetest nectar, a saccharine phrase dipped in venom. Another one of your baits successfully eaten, another one of your hooks digging into flesh. You suppressed your giggle as you gave a parting bow and pivoted to twine through the dense crowd with Lord Brownlow, embracing him and slotting yourself into a waltzing position. Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out. Once again, this game you were playing was dangerous, but you were addicted to the thrill, and you suspected he was as well if the looks he was throwing your way as you glided around the room were any indication.

You felt his eyes on you even as you danced, gossamer and silk flowing around you in mesmerizing patterns. Even as you coyly slipped the slow-acting poison in the Lord's drink while no one was looking. Even as you silently snuck out of the room, vanishing as a phantom, before it took effect. You wouldn't be present when it all happened. A ghost, a shadow, leaving no trace behind. Exactly as William wanted.

Only when you finally arrived at their manor, obscured by the inky darkness of the night, did you let yourself breathe. The still air of your and William's bedroom greeted you pleasantly and you slowly made your way in, haphazardly discarding your numerous jewellery on the desk nearby along the way. Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from a successful mission, but even more than that it was brimming with something deeper— more desperate. William and Albert would soon return to the estate now that the ball had been interrupted, and the fire that you had been suppressing the entire night threatened to burst out. You had no doubts he felt the same. The fun dance you two have been trapped in the entire night has finally reached its conclusion. The most delightful reward or the most delicious punishment— you wonder which one awaited you upon his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, slow footsteps sounded in the hallway, unmistakably making their destination known, and the door creaked open almost soundlessly. Your spine tingled as he entered the room, yet you didn't spare him a glance, pretending to busy yourself with removing the accessories from your hair. "I assume everything went according to plan?"

His answering chuckle was accompanied by the rustle of clothes as he discarded his suit jacket. "Everything unfolded beautifully. No one seems to understand how the poison ended up in poor Lord Brownlow's drink." He threw you a conspiratorial grin. "After all, they were all too preoccupied later by the documents a servant managed to uncover in his room, detailing all his atrocities."

You nodded. The tension in the room was palpable, but neither of you wanted to interrupt this tentative stalemate you found yourself in. You were both content to wait the other out— another quick round of your game, this one much shorter and much less torturous. Only when the last accessory left your hair, the mass of it unraveling down your back, did you glance in his direction. "I seem to require some assistance with my dress"

With one hand you threw your hair over your shoulder, body trembling with anticipation as he leisurely made his way to you. It was almost agonizing really, the unhurried way in which his hands traced your arms and shoulder blades down to the corset, leaving in their wake a sea of goosebumps. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. "You looked ravishing tonight. I didn't have the opportunity to tell you sooner." His fingers made quick work of the lace and countless hidden clasps and buttons of your corset. "That was quite an ordeal you pulled."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Don't speak as if you didn't enjoy it."

William's lips pulled into a grin, lightly nipping your skin. "You wicked thing, I'm inclined to believe you enjoy tormenting me."

You gasped, leaning back closer to him. "Is it truly torment if I give you exactly what I promised?"

"After the torture you put me through I think I deserve at least some recompense for your actions." As you felt the dress slip from your shoulders, silky fabric sliding down and pooling around your feet, his lips caressed the skin of your shoulder. "And I must say the reward for my patience will be worthwhile indeed."

Delightful reward it was for tonight it seemed.

#moriarty the patriot #mtp william #mtp x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #william moriarty #yuumori #ynm #william james moriarty x reader #mtp

[beyondspaceandstars]

Paint 'n' Sip

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just all fluff! Summary: You convince your boyfriend Bucky to go to a paint and pour with you. A/N: so this is part of my attempt to post the writings I originally posted on ao3 before I made this account so this is a pretty old one-shot (ao3 says 2020 but I feel like I wrote this before that lmao) however I did go through and edit it so it's a bit stronger than it was before! please enjoy, it's a super simple little fluffy thing :)

Masterlist

"Doll, come on…" Bucky sighed as he gripped the event flyer in his hand. You were sitting on the couch, watching, while Bucky was planted in front the kitchen island.

You just came in the room minutes ago with puppy dog eyes in full swing and a pout as sad as you could muster. Of course, your boyfriend immediately knew something was up, but he gave you the benefit of the doubt and read the flyer you were shaking about. You had got yourself cozy on the couch and waited for his reaction. As predicted, he wasn’t a willing participant.

"What?" You frowned. "It’ll be fun."

He shook his head and turned to you. "Painting and drinking wine? Sounds more like a girls night activity."

"Well," you sighed and crossed your arms, "none of my friends are available, so I thought my wonderful boyfriend who loves me so much would go with me." You tried to keep your face as serious as possible, but it was difficult thanks to Bucky’s expression which told you he wasn’t that convinced yet.

"Doll, seriously, of course I love you, but I draw the line somewhere."

You groaned and got up from your seat, making your way over to your stubborn boyfriend. He placed the flyer on the counter and opened his arms to engulf you. Despite your slight annoyance, you accepted. You were always weak when it came to him holding you.

"You’re being a bit dramatic about this," you said as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. "It’s just a bit of painting paired with some wine sipping. What’s there to really hate?"

"Well, for starters, I’m not much of an artistic guy—," you rolled your eyes, but he continued, "and it’s gonna be full of moms."

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. "Moms? You think it’ll be full of moms?"

Bucky gave you a look, eyebrows raised. "Wine and painting? Sounds like a mom activity."

You shook your head. "I’ll have you know, this is a very trendy thing trendy adults do."

Now, Bucky was the one laughing. "Oh? And we’re so trendy?"

You lightly hit his arm for that comment. "Come with me and you’ll see that it isn’t so bad."

He truly couldn’t say no to you. And you both secretly knew it.

Saturday night had finally rolled around.

You sat at your vanity touching up your makeup while Bucky lounged on your shared bed. You kept sneaking glances at him through the mirror, taking notice of how he had freshened up a bit more than usual. His jeans hugged him in the right places and his hair was done well. It warmed your heart to see the effort he was trying to put in for you. Even if it was just a night of painting and drinking, it was still a night out with each other.

"You almost ready, hon?" Bucky asked as he kept glancing at the clock on the wall. Your reservation was at seven and you were sure going until the last possible second with your makeup.

"Oh, sure, sure," you waved a hand in dismissal. "Just let me put on lipstick."

"Lipstick?" Bucky frowned. "That just means you won’t let me kiss you."

You let out a laugh, trying to stead your hand as the scarlet color coats your lips. "You can keep your lips to yourself for a few hours."

Your boyfriend mumbled something under his breath then whisked you out of the shared apartment.

You both arrived in just the knick of time. After checking in and grabbing your drink, you two found the only open seats. They were in the middle of the room. And they were nicely situated between two groups of excited, bubbly women.

It didn’t go missed by you that Bucky was the only guy that and from the frown forming on your boyfriend’s face, you realized he noticed at well. You did your best to hold in laughter. He would probably bug you endlessly for this one, and you knew it.

"I think you owe me for this, sweetheart." Bucky muttered as he stared emotionless at the blank canvas propped up the table.

You glanced down at your sorted paints and brushes. "Maybe this will allow you to find your inner Picasso."

Bucky let out a humorless chuckle before taking a big gulp of his drink.

While your boyfriend stewed in his grumpiness, you decided to eavesdrop on the ladies around you two—partially desperate to prove it wasn’t just moms here. You quickly found out that the women on your side were college students out celebrating the end of finals. There was, also, what looked like, a bachelorette party going on a few tables in front of you. You were just about to tell Bucky he was wrong about the clientele when the women sitting closest to him started talking about their children's soccer games. As if on cue, Bucky shot you a look.

"You so owe me for this," Bucky whispered to you. You had to cup your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from roaring with laughter.

The room died down when the instructor introduced themselves and began the class. The painting on tonight’s agenda was a simple sunset with a forest landscape. It sounded quite cute and may even make a nice piece for over your dresser, you thought.

As you got into the painting, you kept glancing over at Bucky. To much surprise, he was extremely concentrated on his canvas. Every brush stroke was done such precision and no move was done unwisely. His drink was even going untouched, completely forgotten about as he was consumed by paint. Your heart fluttered at this sight.

Turning back to your canvas, you tried to match his precision. The blending of your sunset wasn’t exactly up to par, but you thought if your stubborn boyfriend could get into it, you could too. It was your idea after all. How were you doing to be shown up by Mr. Grumpy over there?

Eventually, the instructor concluded the session and everyone around you was quick to show their group what they had done. Plenty of wine had flowed as well, probably contributing to the frenzy.

You stared at your sunset and were a bit…unimpressed. It was alright for a beginner, you figured. You turned to ask how Bucky was doing but your words died on your tongue when you saw his final painting. Bucky’s was the completed opposite of yours… It was like a whole new world. The detail, excitement, colors, everything… The care and concentration he had put into it didn’t go unnoticed. Everything flowed so gently and beautifully. To say you were amazed would be an understatement.

"Buck, that’s…incredible." You were in awe. Bucky glanced at you and a slight blush creeped up on his cheeks.

"You really think so?" He asked.

You nodded. "We’re gonna have to hang it up when we get home."

He chuckled and asked if you ere ready to go. You agreed, deciding it was time to free home.

With both paintings in one hand, Bucky used his other to intertwine your fingers and swung your arms back and forth gently as you two walked back home.

"I’ll be honest, I had a good time tonight," Bucky admitted.

"Really?" You giggled. "I hadn’t notice at all. I thought the canvas would combust from your intense stare."

He bumped his side into you lightly. "I was just… really into it. We gotta paint more."

"Oh, no, not we." You shook your head. "I think this is your hidden talent."

Bucky started to blush again and looked away toward the street.

"I mean it, babe." You mumbled, rubbing patterns on his hand with your thumb. "I think it could be good for you. Therapeutic, maybe."

His walking speed was slowing down a bit. You were looking at him while his eyes were trained on the pavement.

"Only if you promise you’ll hang up every painting I do."

You smiled at the comment. He started picking that talent up from you—making some lighthearted comment even in the slight serious of times. The fact he even considered it made you feel all fuzzy. You couldn’t wait to see what he could do with a full set of acrylics.

"It would be an honor to display any of your paintings."

He gave you a peck on the cheek, now making you blush as you continued your way home.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fluff #one shot #writing* #fluff

[cordeliawhohung]

Golden Days

soap x pianist!fem!reader - written for @glitterypirateduck holiday challenge

A quiet coffee shop is the perfect place for Johnny to relax and get his mind off things. But he finds he enjoys it a bit more when someone starts playing the old, beat up piano.

masterlist

warnings: none! super fluffy! short and sweet. maybe slightly ooc soap because i don't write for him super often...

wc: 1.7k

a/n: inspired by the original lyrics to "have yourself a merry little christmas." i think that version deserves some more love.

Getting some R & R was always easier said than done, and Johnny found that he always had to keep his hands busy while he was on leave. Whether it was a quick skirmish of footy, hitting the gym, or even going for a walk, he was always in motion. But as the weather got cruddy with the bitter December wind and the pavement slick with what little snow dusted the lands, he found himself stuck to drawing. Simple sketches, he liked to call them. Silly doodles that meant little to nothing. 

A majority of his journal was full of fragments of the world. A favela in Brazil where the buildings and homes seemed to stretch forever; a watermelon with a knife sticking out of it; diagrams of various ships and vehicles; the works. And he’d write some snarky comment or make fun of his captain in the privacy of ink and paper. His home away from home, whenever he was feeling sentimental, anyway. 

Even as he enjoyed a fresh cup of coffee in his favorite mom-and-pop’s cafe, he drew. At first he started out with attempting to draw his cup of coffee, logo and all, until he realized that it would be lukewarm at best by the time he got the sketch how he liked it. Instead, he opted to drink his coffee while he scribbled down a Christmas tree. Might as well keep it to memory when the older gentleman who made his coffee had obviously spent so much effort into decorating it. Dazzling lights, gold tinsel and ribbons, and a glowing star at the very top. He wouldn’t be able to catch all the details, but it was enough. 

A cold chill blew past the exposed skin on his forearm as the door opened and closed with a ringing bell. By habit, Johnny quickly glanced up towards the entrance where he saw you, bundled up in a winter outfit. He had never seen you before, which didn’t surprise him because he was hardly home enough to recognize most faces anymore. Your smile instantly warmed the shop back up as you grinned at the old man behind the counter. 

“About time you showed up,” the old geezer teased as you approached him. “The usual?” 

Sweet, Johnny thought. There was always something endearing about the love elders held for younger generations. Their knowing gazes, their kind smiles, although usually mischievous too. The owner got to work on making your cup of coffee, and as you waited you began to wander around the shop. Decorated head to toe in pine and all the gold decorations in the world, it was a bright warm corner in the sleepy city. 

Naturally, you eventually made your way over to an upright piano pushed up against the wall next to the Christmas tree. Somehow, it was beautiful and ugly at the same time. Faded ivory keys, but a beautiful dark stained wood for the body, and it was also missing the upper panel, exposing the hammers and strings. It looked like it had been through hell and back, yet still stood proudly like the day it was made.

“Why don’t you play us something?” the owner suggested, his hands still busy with making your drink. 

You paused just as your fingers brushed against the keys before throwing a cautious glance around the shop. No one else was in the shop besides Johnny, who you threw a polite smile towards before your eyes settled back on the older man. 

“Maybe another time,” you deflected, eyes flickering over to Johnny. “Don’t want to scare away your customers.” 

“Aye, don’t worry about me,” Johnny spoke up. He waved a graphite covered hand at you, pencil still nestled between his fingers. “I don’t mind a bit of music.” 

The internal struggle was obvious in your eyes, and Johnny turned his attention back to his drawing in an attempt to keep the pressure off of you. Eventually he heard a slight creak of wood as the ancient stool settled underneath your weight. Johnny couldn’t help but glance back up at you as your fingers ghosted over the keys, petting them almost, before you dove headfirst into a dreamy chord. 

“What the hell?” you exclaimed, the music quickly cutting off. 

Boisterous laughter erupted from the owner as he leaned against the counter, your cup of coffee next to him. You looked at him with wild eyes and mouth slightly agape. 

“You tuned this piece of junk?” you questioned. 

The old man held his arms to the side and shrugged. “Merry Christmas.” 

With some newfound vigor, your attention returned back to the piano in front of you before you played that chord once more, that time with more confidence. It was such a soft, beautiful melody; something that reminded Johnny of his childhood somehow, yet he couldn’t quite place it. Some sort of nostalgia hidden deep in his chest that started to ache and burn. 

And then you started to sing. 

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It may be your last.”

That… wasn’t how he remembered the song going. Blue eyes tore away from his journal as Johnny looked up at you. With your back turned to him, it was impossible to see your face, but he watched as your arms moved and fingers danced, how your body swayed with the beat and your feet tapped on the pedals. 

“Next year we may all be living in the past. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Pop that champagne cork. Next year we may all be living in New York.”

So much for making the Yule-tide gay. There was something a little more somber about this version of the song you performed, something that had both Johnny and the shop owner completely enamored. Between your singing and the lights of the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over you, it was something straight out of an odd, demented Hallmark movie. 

“No good times like the olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who were dear to us, will be near to us no more.”

There was a slight pause in the music. A prolonged chord that rang on the exposed shimmering strings of the piano. The moving hammers fell still in the exposed skeleton of the piano. After a moment, your head fell slightly as you continued on to finish the rest of the song. 

“But at least we all will be together. If the Lord allows. From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow. So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.” 

Notes sang and died down into silence as the song ended. You sat there for a short while before sliding off of the bench and awkwardly facing the rest of the mostly empty shop. The owner gave you a few well-natured claps, to which you bowed sarcastically to before approaching the counter once more to retrieve your drink. But Johnny was still dumbfounded. 

“Beautiful. Haven’t heard that version before,” he spoke up, setting his pencil along the center of his journal where it rested between the pages. He leaned back in his seat, stunning blue eyes taking in the sight of you.

You turned to him with a sheepish smile, hands wrapped around the warm center of your cup. “It’s the original version Judy Garland wrote, actually. The one they deemed too depressing and asked her to change.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Really?” 

“Yeah. I always liked this version better,” you explained. 

Somehow during your short conversation, you had managed to meander closer to Johnny’s table, hand brushing against the chair across from him yet not braving to take the seat. He wasn’t ignorant to the way your eyes flickered down to his journal, or how your lips tugged into a small smile at the sight of it. 

“Pretty,” you commented, nodding towards the journal. 

Instinctively, Johnny glanced down at his work, and he could feel his throat grow a little tight. There was the luxurious Christmas tree he had sketched, with the dazzling ornaments, then there was the dimensions of the walls behind it, and then there was a half finished sketch of you, sitting at the piano facing away from him. 

“Aye, it’s something I guess,” he chuckled, hands playing with the edge of the paper.

He blamed the glow of the lights for making you so beautiful. Like some sort of angel that should have been sitting on top of a tree rather than talking with someone like him. But you are there, and you’re real, and you ask him his name and give him yours and he swears that whole conversation feels like coming home. Like he never belonged anywhere else except in that coffee shop with you. Maybe he was just feeling sentimental. 

“Well, I, uh, have to get going,” you said eventually, eyes awkwardly darting to the clock that rested above Johnny’s head on the wall. “But I’ll be back here around the same time tomorrow. I could… play you a happier song.” 

It was impossible for him to hide his grin as he stared up at you. Of course he agreed, and he found himself getting more excited for it than he should have been. You give him a sheepish wave as you exit the shop, the bell ringing with your absence as you dissipate down the street. Things grew quiet again as it was just Johnny and the old shopkeeper, who was busy cleaning his machines. He looked back down at his journal and fiddled with his pencil as he thought about how to finish up his sketch. A part of him wished you came into the shop earlier. He would have put you at the center of the picture rather than that tree. 

“She’s single,” the man suddenly spoke up. 

When Johnny looked up, he realized the man was looking at him, and he wasn’t all too secretive about the mischievous glint he had in his eyes either. Really, he wasn’t quite sure what to say in response. 

“Yeah? That’s some intel you got,” he said, slightly stiff and a bit sarcastic. 

“She likes the Italian restaurant two blocks down the road,” the man continued. “I’m sure she would say yes if you asked her to go with you.” 

At that, Johnny had to chuckle, and it sounded something like a warm grumble in his chest, as if he was actually attempting to entertain the idea. Still smiling, he glanced down at his journal again, finger tapping against the paper. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It may be your last. 

Well, perhaps he could entertain that thought after all. 

#soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #codholiday2023 #cod x reader

[missn00tson]

Yoo Wooin headcanons

Hi, the Wooin landscape is barren af, so Im here to offer my headcanons abt him.

Hope you enjoy!

Nb!Reader

Sfw:

He's Bi, or def fruity in some shape or form.

I once read abt him being in a poly relationship and it has been ingraved in my mind ever since.

Def the type of guy to do a lot of pda. He likes to slap your ass in public, a lot. He's not the type of guy to be gentlemanly and open the door for you, but when he does he will slap your ass as he enters after you.

How comfortable he is with you changes a lot about how he acts with you. When you've been a thing or sortof thing for a long time he will get less... annoying? Dont get me wrong, he's still a litle shit but shows more of a caring side of his. It also ups his aftercare, like, he doesn't leave u or kick u out right after sex.

True to the story he's a little shit always up to somthing, and up for anything. He'd prolly not think twice if you suggest to do smth strange or dangerous.

Would spoil u excessively w gifts. I cant promise u theyre pretty (you have seen his fashion style, its not for everyone) but they will be expensive for sure.

Buys you matching clothes and expects you to wear them so he can show you off.

Will ask you to draw anything and get it tattooed. No mater how good your drawing skills r, if u can hold a pen you're good.

He's pretty good at drawing himself, but just like the rest of him his drawing style is rather... unique. He had been interested in becoming a tattoo artist for a while, and would become one if he didnt get as much money from illegal activities as he does.

Would do drugs and other types of substances with you for fun. He especially loves doing it before and after you've fucked.

He has the most obnoxious alarm ever (if he even feels like getting anywhere on time) and takes too damn long to turn it off.

Types with the most incoherent text messages ever. His texts r abbreviations from hell and as short as they can be. The only emojys he uses r 😎 and 🖕🏻

If you use the middle finger emoji tho he'll tell u it means u have a small dick just to annoy you.

Leaves you on read when you dont ask for a specific answer. He wont answer with an "okay" or anything either.

Would randomly call u at 3am and ask u if he was with u last night when the cops ask him for an alibi. It doesnt matter if he did it or not, he'd lie.

Dont expect him to cook. If you're eating at home it's just simple cupnoodles, otherwise he goes to eat out for every meal.

The guy walks so. Tremendously. slow. Like, showing off walking all badassly but walking slow like a SNAIL

Has the most annoying morning alarm ever (if he even feels like getting somewhere on time) and takes an eternity to turn it off.

Doesn't include you in his job, but isnt super secretive or apologetic abt it at all either.

He's total shit at talking about his feeling other than "annoyed" and "horny", same goes for consoling you about yours.

When you're not close yet he will most likely leave you to yourself as he has no clue how to deal with it other than letting it pass. He might offer you to do something you like to put your mind off it.

If you're more of a serious (for how serious it can be) thing he will try to console u in his own way. He will stay by your side, most likely uncomfortably staring in the distance until u tell him what you want him to do.

Strangely so, these are the moments where he's uncharcyeristicallt distant. Usually he's a guy with 0 personal space but then he just lets you be until he gets told otherwise (sounds submissive to me ahEm-)

If your just a bit down (and he has outruled the possibility that you're mad at him, so you wont atack him outta nowhere) he will try to cheer u up with stupid dirty jokes.

Nsfw:

Would be into crossdressing. More so himself than his partner, but I can see him wearing a short skirt for shits nd giggles once and realizing things abt himself.

Looooves doggy style. Esp when he tops. He loves watching himself sliding in and out of you while you fuck, it just awakens something inside of him.

Would be the type to push u deeper while youre giving him head.

As an adrenaline junky he loves the idea of fucking and teasing in public. Even better if someone else watches.

Def some sort of sadist. He esp loves hour long edging followed by overstimulation. (I dont make the rules. I do but I dont :)

Loves the idea of phone sex, until he gets too horny and wants to do it himself.

But moments like those r the easiest moments to dom him. Yes, he's a switch, a brat for sure.

Even if he doesnt like to admit it, during spicy time is the only moment ur allowed to order him around and having a chance of him listening.

Dont overdo it tho, if he doesnt feel completely at ease w u yet he'll snap right out of it again (esp when he was planning on domming) and rail u even harder.

His rythm is slow and teasing at first, trying to tick you off, but as his own high nears he rams into you with short but quick thrusts.

Continues to fuck you even after you both came, enjoying the pain it gives him and the strangled moans and grunts tou let out.

Loves it when you beg. He loves feeling superior and being worshipped.

Though when hes subbing. Degradation kink. Im telling you. D e g r a d a t i o n

Hes not a gentle guy, he get turned on by seeing your tear stained face. He'd lick off the drops while he's pounding inside of you, wishing you'd cry more.

When he praises you he'll always degrade you at the same time, often using degrading nicknames. "Such a pretty slut for me" "This pathetic doll is taking me so well, aren't they?"

Loves when you bite and scratch him. It sends him straight over the edge when you scratch his back while he's fucking you.

Especially when he's bottoming he loves it when you leave bite marks allover him. On his neck, hut also his inner tighs make him weak in the knees.

You can bite down pretty deeply. If it draws blood, he'll slightly spread his legs further for you to lick it off.

Loves it when you moan around his cock.

Def a hair puller while recieving head, bobbing your head forcefully up and down making you gag.

He asks you to show your tongue after you've swallowed.

Loves calling you "my good slut"

Enjoys having his hands tied back while you ride him. He loves the way you body bounces while you move atop of him while he strains his hands in his cuffs.

He loves when you use him, ignoring his needs and pleasuring yourself.

The idea of his partners useing him while he's tied up and gagged, unable to stop them from edging and overstimulating him. One on top of him and the other eyeing them like a predator. Man that's maybe even better then drugs for him.

He loves hunting. Whether it's chasing you in a haunted house before taking you against the wall or you chasing him before making him crumble under your fingers.

Even though he's a shit, he knows the importance of knowing what your partner wants, and he'd make sure to get to know your prefrences beforehand. After all, what fun would it be if you're not up to do what he wants?

Aftercare after quickies is rare but when you have played a scene with him he will help you clean up and ask you about your opinion of the scene.

He knows no personal space. He cuddles with you until you both fall asleep, but leaves in the morning after showering and eating. (ofc depending on how close u are. If it's just a one night stand he leaves for sure, unless u put some magic on him. If youre more of a regular thing he'd make himself comfortable until u wake up and leave afterwards)

I have no clue how many words this is, but thank you for reading! :)

IHis lips also look so pink and juicy in the newest chapters, did he buy him some lipgloss or smthh?? I love itttt

#Yoo Wooin #Wooin #wooin windbreaker #Wooin headcanons #Woonin #windbreaker #windbreaker wooin #Windbreaker headcanons #nb!reader #Sfw