#i tried so hard to get the colors to coordinate

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 #miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spider man 2099 smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #edit: it's been two days and I'm STILL seeing grammar/spelling errors I'M SO FUCKING TIRED

[lucvly]

— boyfriend headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: the usual !! sfw and nsfw parts. not proofread my bad.

a/n: i love reqs helppp 😣 working on another one which actually involves writing as we Speak !! i had to reupload this because i forgot tags SORRY anon 💔

— this man is obsessed with you. literally doesn’t even find any other women attractive. he has the biggest heart eyes for you it’s insane.

— adores hyping you up on instagram. he’s the type to reply “alr i saw it you can take it down now !!” when you post a story. your posts are filled with comments from him.

— he’s an absolute sucker for grand gestures. asked you to be his girlfriend by decorating your room with balloons !! goes all out on your anniversary (buys you a dress, gets you new jewelry, etc.)

— loves to color coordinate with you. whenever you two are going out or just seeing each other he calls you to match outfits. he thinks it’s the cutest (+ chris and nick tease him sooo bad for it)

— always gets you your go-to drinks. you’ll mention an iced latte once and he’s getting one for you every single day !! he’s so cute bye

— secretly loves it when you take pictures of him like a soccer mom LMAOO. he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. you love taking pictures of him doing literally anything: driving, doing laundry, etc.

— loves sleeping on call with you. he absolutely adores hearing you rant about your day. + sleeping on call together him while he’s on tour and misses you so badly !! half of the call is just him complaining about how much he wishes he could see your face and kiss you.

— he may whine about how you’re stealing all his clothes and hoodies but secretly loves watching you in them.

— him driving is sooo attractive. he’s such a gentleman ughhh. this man will get out of the car and open the door for you, leans over and buckles your seatbelt, + always has his hand on your thigh.

— always kissing you. forehead kisses, neck kisses, cheek kisses, etc.

— soo good at comforting and reassuring you. he’s such a sweetheart it’s sickening !!!

— your personal driver. it’s 3 am and you wanna go out? call him and he’ll be there in 5. you’re drunk at a party and need a ride? your boyfriend’s there.

— replies to your texts at lightning speed it’s sooo embarrassing but cute !!

— updates you on everything that happens throughout his day.

— nsfw below!

— anytime you kiss him it ends up in a heated ass make out session. your hands softly pulling on his hair, his hands gripping your waist as you ever so slightly grind on his hardening cock !! lollll !!

— he leans more towards the gentler side in bed. cute pet names, makes it All about you and your pleasure– (though he loves it when you give him head).

— howeverrrr, he can definitely get mean during sex. i’m talking manhandling, shoving your face into the pillow, dirty talk. (“too big— i can’t–,” “i don’t care, you can take it. i’ll make it fit.”)

— loves it when you overstimulate him. it’s his favorite thing ever. have fun watching him squirm, hearing him moan and whimper your name.

— begs you to sit on his lap. he adores it. stroking your hair, kissing your neck, his hands on your waist as he tries his hardest to not grind his hips up or simply just fuck you senseless.

— he’s vocal. whimpering out loud, begging, groaning, grunting. all of it.

— extremely good at aftercare. he’ll immediately clean you up, get a bottle of water for you, cuddle, talk, anything you want and he’s completely at your service.

— he’s such a secret pervert !!! cannot see you in a skirt because he’s already hard. showing a bit of cleavage? hard. sees you in a bathing suit? it is over for him. he needs you.

— cockwarming him while he’s gaming <333. he’s all for it. one time you two made a bet that consisted on making the other crack first. spoiler alert: you ended up with your moans being muffled by a pillow because you just couldn’t let him finish his game, could you?

#lucvly #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[cinnamoneve]

𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐲.

idolatry \ īˈdälətrē \ (n.) - extreme admiration, love, or reverence for something or someone.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: your boyfriend just makes the perfect wedding date ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader is wearing a dress, is called beautiful, shorter than gojo, reader drinks alcohol ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1.8k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: you are all subject to me writing self indulgent fics ♡ currently stuck at an airport for a wedding tomorrow and this man would look so fine in a suit (also i Would Like to marry him). anyways i love you thank you for reading !!!

any excuse gojo satoru had to dress up and take the night off, he’d eat up.

you offhandedly mentioned to your boyfriend that you had a family wedding coming up. fortunately, you were given the opportunity to bring a plus one–and you knew just the man for the occasion.

“should we match? and coordinate our outfits?”

“it’s not high school prom, satoru. we don’t have to match”

he didn’t know. while his life had been very well lived in his 28 years, attending a wedding hadn’t been crossed off his list yet. he’d secretly hoped that the first one he would attend would be yours, with him standing across from you to seal in your devotion to one another for the rest of your lives.

but alas, he can’t get what he wants this time.

while he’s met your family here and there, this will be the first full-scale event where you’re hard launching your boyfriend into the family. it’s a lot at once. for a normal person, it’d be overwhelming. but most weren’t people-oriented the way your boyfriend was.

“can you at least tell me the color of your dress?”

“it’s green”

“green suit then. got it.”

reading your body language and glare burning the back of his head, satoru was quick to write it off as ‘kidding!’ of course you believed him, but half of your brain told you not to.

you had almost forgotten about it all until the day of the event, when satoru picked up his suit from the dry cleaner. you tried to steal a peek underneath the white bag, but he playfully swatted you away with a “nuh-uh.” you pushed it from your mind and continued to get ready.

satoru’s cologne was always the indication that it was time to go. subtle yet overwhelming, the musky scent filled the air of any room he walked into. it felt like he applied enough so everyone could smell it, but you could only appreciate it if you were buried into his neck. it sucked you in and was warm enough to feel like an embrace. when you could hear him applying his cologne, the scent came moments later, and so did the nerves.

usually in uniform or in sweatpants, rarely could satoru go all out and dress to the nines. you’ve only been lucky to see it once or twice, but never to this extent.

you walked out of the bathroom to meet him, and man, he looked good. it took everything in you to remember the commitment you made to your family and your rsvp instead of staying home and jumping him there.

in his black suit, he definitely cleaned up well. the black suit only contrasted his snow-white hair, which matched into the white button-up he paired underneath. after the first wave of nerves and infatuation passed, you were relieved to note he wasn’t wearing a full-green suit like he’d teased. the harder you looked, though, you could see glimpses of yourself and his love woven in the outfit. a green pocket square, a thin green tie, and even socks to match.

he even matched his cufflinks to the type of metal your jewelry was.

gosh, he was so perfect sometimes, it infuriated you. this time, you could let it pass. maybe just this once.

he let out a whistle when his eyes met yours.

“you look beautiful, love”

“you don’t look so bad yourself, satoru”

“oh don’t be mean, you were practically drooling over there”

“shut up,” you laughed. he pulled you into a kiss to meet your giggles halfway. he just loved to kiss you when you were smiling, just so he could taste how happy he made you.

satoru wore his happiness on his sleeve; probably more, if there was even a phrase for it. you could hear that he was smiling when he talked. he would smile while kissing you, which would always pull and curl his lips in a way that made you melt. he was so unapologetically and irrevocably in love with you, and the best way to show it was with his smile–in any way he could.

he pulled your hand close, placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, and led you outside to the car. opening the door for you like the gentleman he was, you feigned a “wow, thank you, baby” to make him feel so chivalrous, as if he doesn’t do it every time

and you did the same, as you always had, when he opened the door for you at the venue. he took your hand so tenderly in his as you walked inside.

the ceremony was intimate, so you and most of the party were only attending the reception. satoru was already confused by the proceedings and this didn’t help his case.

“so they’re already married? they already kissed the bride? we missed the vows?”

“yes, love,” was the only way you could answer. it was almost a soft launch into a wedding for him. no formalities of ceremonies that were following any specific practice or culture, just dancing and alcohol with a side of celebrating love.

boy, you needed a drink. gojo had a million questions about family members he hadn’t seen in a while, how they were, and if they would remember him.

you both made your rounds during the cocktail hour to greet old and new friends and family. always the social butterfly, satoru seemed to command every conversation and have everyone feel included and heard.

he had a certain air about him that made anyone he was talking to seem like the most important person in the world. he was an avid listener, eye-contact enthusiast, and lover of remembering details about people. oh, you told him you were looking to vacation in europe last time he saw you? best believe he’d ask if you’ve gotten there yet.

because he was driving, satoru drank just enough to get him loose. meanwhile, family events made you slam drink after drink. something about all your family in a dance hall with an open bar just spoke to you.

the rest of the night flowed as it usually did. you had found your seats with some of your favorite family members, and gojo made a point to sit as close to you as he could.

it was one of your favorite things about him. he unconsciously always scoots his chair closer to you, so at least your legs would be touching. such a clingy man–he’d die before anyone at that table but you knew it though.

so under the table his affection stayed, in the form of foot taps and unconscious shapes drawn on your thigh as he talked to one of your cousin’s boyfriends.

the alcohol had made you a little spacey before the reception truly kicked off. the couple had their first dance, and afterwards, all the couples in the room were invited to share it with them.

satoru giggled at you.

“why are you looking at me like that”

“i just think you’re pretty, satoru”

he slowly stood up and adjusted his suit jacket.

“if you wanted to ask me to dance, you could’ve just asked. there’s no need to be shy about it, baby”

maybe it was the alcohol, but something about satoru tonight made your heart skip a few beats. it did turn you a little shy, you realized. you felt the blush creeping up your face as he grabbed your hand.

“may i have this dance?”

so lame. it was so lame. so cliche, overdone, movie-esque…the list can go on. normally, you would’ve faked a gag at this line. he loved to pull out the cheesy lines to make you squirm.

nothing came out this time. you just looked at him with your cheeks hot, shyly looking away as you rose to meet him.

satoru led you to the dance floor before putting his hand on your waist with your clasped hands at your sides. you found yourself buried into his chest, listening to his heartbeat in line with the slow song playing in the background. the music seemed to fade out of your mind as it felt like the two of you were the only people on the dance floor.

he kept the pace (and kept you upright) as the two of you stepped back and forth with one another, bodies falling into each other to the tune of the song.

his cologne was intoxicating. something about it made your heart soar. you wanted to get ready with him for the rest of your lives. stupid how something as simple as whatever he decided to spray had you wanting it to be your reminder of plans every time you made them. you hoped that scent would be your own personal alarm every time you and satoru had somewhere to go. hell, you’d make plans if it meant he’d fill up the house with this little piece of himself.

“what do you think our wedding will be like?”

the vibration of satoru’s chest with his question pulls you out of your thoughts.

you think about it for a bit. you wondered what the two of you would be like by then. it could be tomorrow or in five years–either way, you wouldn’t be the same as you are now. just the thought alone made you excited.

you were in love with him, definitely. in love with who he was about to be, in love with who he was when you met him. who he was when he woke up this morning, yesterday, last week, and who he’ll be tomorrow. it was all unknown. but not a scary unknown, no; it was comforting that you two grew adjacently to one another, yet, together.

that’s love, you realized. maybe it’s not sharing your first dance among your friends and family, or standing face-to-face professing your vows, or wearing white or taking some seal to honor and love each other for as long as you live.

it was something in-between, something unwritten; hidden between open car doors and cufflinks.

you would dance with him as long as you could, though. at least you had known that for sure. happiness with satoru must be between slow dancing together, wondering when he’d pull you close and dip you, each time pretending he was going to drop you because he thought it was funny, just to kiss you when he pulled you back up. or maybe when he’d twirl you off his hand, stealing a glimpse at the way your eyes stayed on him while you slowly spun.

the rest of the night was incredibly uneventful. satoru danced with all of your aunties and your mother, stealing them away to tell them how beautiful they looked so they’d feel loved.

maybe it was the alcohol clouding your mind, or maybe it was the most sober thought you’d had all night, but like satoru, you found yourself wishing that the next wedding you go to would be your own.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #★ jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #if there’s any formatting issues #im posting this from a plane #pls forgive. Will fix when i land #thanks i love you #♡ satoru

[eldritch-spouse]

I need a threesome with Comie(?) and Pebble. Just I need to be knotted as I suck off honeyboi.

P. S Love you Pinnie. Thank you for your hard work 🙏

[It's "Colmei", but you got it basically. You didn't really specify, so I'm putting you in the "Admin" role. Love you too! <3 Fem reader.]

TW: Knotting; Food cum (as in, it's literal honey); Slight cultish themes.

The bug monster always intrigued you.

He wasn't made by The Clergy's Eye. Your lord didn't weave him into existence either.

That you know of, this... Man? Male. He just showed up. Installed himself in the garden. A ridiculous notion, it really reminds you of Fank-e.

You recall the initial commotion.

Krulu had been alerted to the entity's prolonged presence and effectively wanted to remove said unknown monster from his grounds. Because, after all, if he wasn't there to make some sort of exchange and be sapped at like the rest, then he was a waste of space and resources- Especially when the uncivilized monster decided to station his colony in the garden.

What stopped your lord from rightfully removing the witless intruder from his domain were the desperate plights of Patches and Nebul, both undead monsters exhibiting great fascination with the likes of Colmei, as he's come to be called. You don't even remember which of the two baptized him anymore... When push came to shove, you chose to voice an opinion, siding with your coworkers. Not to spite Krulu, never. You truly just shared their fascination with the bee man. Besides, the garden actively benefits from the actions of his well-coordinated bees, that can't be denied.

And he was left alone, begrudgingly.

"Bee man" is a misleading term. From what little of his body you've seen, he's nothing like a bee-based monster at all. If anything, you'd liken him more to a parasitic entity inhabiting the garbs of a medieval beekeeper, like a snail's shell. His sleeves are always long and down, like Nebul's. His mask is usually always in place, and although many people would wonder about the monster's ability to see, you know better. You've learned a lot in your time working here. Masks and lack of visible ocular organs means nothing. You know Colmei can see his surroundings the same way you can- And even if you didn't, Patches' extensive research on the specimen more than proves it. He can circumvent objects in his path without scent or palping, he can differentiate colors, he has depth and perception like a human's, a field of vision standard in your species. He's a little wonder, you've combed -Pun intended- through reports on him more than once.

And, although he's not officially recognized as a "garden anomaly" by anyone here, you lump information about him next to Hellion and Pebble's cases. In fact, now that you recall things, didn't Pebble form after Colmei's arrival? Probably, you'll have to check later. The two get along well enough, which already can't be said about Hellion's relationship with the bee caretaker. Then again, Hellion has a strong personality, to say the least...

Speaking of, you're sacrificing some of your free time this morning to satisfy one of Patches' requests. He needs a sample from Colmei. Saliva was easy enough to get, the monster does eat, and with those three slobbering tongues you've caught glimpses of, it was hard to miss a chance to get a swab of his drool. The problem came when Patches attempted to get a "seed sample". You've long since stopped questioning why he wants to work with reproductive fluids, and considering the stunts you've seen this dullahan pull using a variety of organic elements, you have to at least admit there's some merit to what superficially comes off as pure depravity. Even if you'd like it if he stopped obsessing over homunculi...

Patches is old, he knows what he's doing sometimes.

Point being, whenever the undead tries to get handsy with Colmei, the bug monster blatantly rejects him, buzzing angrily. He doesn't often fall for traps either. Relatively speaking, you'd assume Colmei would be very receptive to sexual attention ever since he discovered ejaculation is harmless, in much the same way Belo underwent a somewhat prolonged lustful fever the moment he was bedded by you and lord Krulu. And, effectively, Colmei spends an inordinate amount of time stimulating himself, perhaps in an effort to make up for all the times he was left frustrated and hopelessly libidinous for no reason. Although he frequently brings himself to completion, the garden inhabitant doesn't allow people to approach him sexually often. Santi was briefly allowed to stroke him through his garb, but the moment the demon attempted to get a better feel, he was quickly hissed and buzzed at.

You think the incubus is still a little sore over that. Heh.

Nevertheless, you've decided you'll get this over and done with it today. Because you're not just anybody, you're the Administrator of this establishment, and what needs to be done will get done, so help you.

It's all a matter of waiting. Colmei's going to get bothered at any moment, you know he has nothing better to do in the mornings, because his hive has adapted to The Clergy's Eye's schedule. His army of bees all remain mostly dormant within early mornings, because the garden's flowers too are dormant, meaning there's no pollen to collect. That's just how this tilted world is. Cleverly, they rest and save energy for the evenings and nights. Colmei wakes from slumber much earlier however, has to, acting as a guard for his smaller colony elements.

You've been sitting on a lonely bench (who, miraculously, isn't Sybastian) for a while now, bidding your time. Occasionally, you'll make conversation with your currently busy higher, other times you'll catch Hellion shift in his sleep atop a tree's fat branch. Generally, you don't have much trouble sitting placidly, rolling the tube-like vial in-between your gloved fingers. Some people get maddened by the waiting game, Krulu has taught you better.

Your first plan of action is simple, coaxing. If that fails, which it just might, there's no doubt in you something can be schemed. This is far from the most daunting of challenges you've taken on.

Time passes, the fog hugging your home's dark walls recedes ever so gently, some of the plant life sways and plumps, as if the building is yawning, waking itself up. The fountain comes alive, sprinkling water in all the wrong directions, as usual. Today, it sports a curious, hourglass shape, adorned with well-sculped crows seemingly flocking around it. Lord-Master would enjoy the sight of it if he was paying attention to your whereabouts right now.

From then on, it's fairly soon when you hear a more pronounced buzz coming from the sides of the establishment. Seeing as it's usually quite silent this time of day, it can only be the beekeeper. You smile knowingly, aware of what he'll most likely be doing in a little while.

Rising, measured, slow and muted footsteps carry you closer to the source of the sound. You trail the edges of your establishment, ears almost twitching with the way they're perked at every insect-like noise. When those sounds dip into a slightly familiar rhythm, strong but interspersed with breaks of abrupt silence, like gasping, your pace quickens.

Turning around the front left edge of the building, you see him there, predictably. Colmei leans against the dark brick walls of The Clergy, some fair distance away from the oversized colony structure attached to it. Monochrome robes pool messily around his hips, held there by pitch black arms that dip between full thighs and grasp a humanoid appendage with fervor.

It's a silly thing to say, but being that you've witnessed so many foreign genital configurations, it's become a novelty to find a "proper" set on monsters these days. You'd expect something as bizarre as Colmei to sport a wet and curling thing moving this way and that, but no- There it sits, humanoid balls beneath a humanoid shaft. Very odd indeed.

He's doing exactly what you predicted he would, somewhat clumsily palming and squeezing himself, grip on the base of his cock but mostly static. He may have learned to bring himself to fruition, but he's not practiced at it, perhaps that's why he spends so much time agonizing like this. Once more, you'd think masturbatory motions would come near instinctively to the parasitic entity, yet that doesn't seem to be the case. The head of his already slick cock drips something incredibly viscous to the ground, this darkened orange-ish string that, if seen from afar, could almost be mistaken for something else.

You've seen traces of it on the garden at times, spattered messily atop flowerbeds. Patches could just collect one of those and use it, but he insists they're not appropriate, have been tainted. Frankly, you think he just wants an excuse to make someone touch the garden monster.

Amused, you observe Colmei clumsily paw at himself, throbbing against nothing, chest filling out as he tries to angle his legs in a better position. He almost figures out how to cant them well, then gives up. It's as endearing as it is aggravating to watch. You think he made an odd droning cry at some point. You're getting as frustrated as he is just watching him try to find a good method. Part of you only wants to rush there and hold those meaty hands over his length properly, pump him decently, make him curl his grasp here and there, grab his full balls and slap his ass when he finally gets the gist of it. One would assume Colmei would get the hang of it by watching the drunk stragglers that stumble into the garden and beat off in their highs. Then again, usually something ends up happening to them.

Stepping into the very corner of Colmei's field of vision -Well, assuming his vision isn't totally tunneled, which it might be- You make a soft coo at the monster.

He heard it. Heard it very well. You commend his alertness even in a state distracted by arousal.

For a second, you wondered if the unknowable monster man was going to jump out of his robes, face swinging immediately in your direction and pitifully small wings spreading. It reminds you of Belo when he's upset, minus the parakeet fluffing. Whatever angry noise was beginning to rattle in his abdomen is halted when he realizes who's standing in front of him.

Garden anomalies have a primal, inherent understanding of the dynamics of The Clergy. They know who your lord is, can feel his work and his presence everywhere. They know to respect him, and they understand who his vessel is. As such, you're very often treated with less mischievous intent and never shown a wink of genuine hostility unless they're deeply aggravated by an exterior agent. Colmei isn't a garden anomaly however, which makes his similar reactions all the more interesting. He learned from the others that you're a figure to be cautiously regarded, to be mildly subservient to.

Maybe he can sense Krulu, maybe he can't- It's still hilarious that he treats you like an untouchable figure just because others are doing it.

Which is to say, your hypothesis here is that he won't deny your advances because he thinks more of you than he does the rest of the staff.

Colmei's buzzing is now muted and soft, uncertain. Incredibly enough, his static hand is still wrapped around a neglected member. Though you can clearly gouge he's extremely tense right now.

" Colmei. "

He reacts to the word, perking, knowing that's what he's called in these grounds.

" Come here. "

There's a communication barrier between you and the beekeeper, sure. But he's been learning the language ever since his stay here. He knows what those words mean, especially when you do a curt beckoning gesture. If your lord were available now, he'd facilitate the conversation, but alas. You're no baby, you'll get this done on your own.

When the beekeeper doesn't move a muscle, your first step forward is measured, the two of you watching each other like hawks in a standstill. That's definitely not the energy you're going for, so you put on a smile, glancing from his covered complexion to the treat he clutches and licking your lips. Come on...

Colmei's wings flutter, though stubbornly, he doesn't meet you.

Cautious steps turn to confident struts, unbothered by his evident turmoil. You halt right up close to Colmei, seeing the way he breathes faster, the noise of something wet shifting behind that grayed mask. Knowing he's clearly deliberating, you don't reach for the goal immediately, in fact, you just stare at him with a soft expression.

The pressure cracks him.

Colmei ultimately leans down, the bottom of his head garbs brushing barely on the crook of your neck. Whether it was done just to have contact or to somehow smell you, is irrelevant. Smiling, you gently crane your head, shifting to push cloth away, such so that the monster can see more of your neck. There's a sound by your ears, something being dislodged, pushed aside by a slimy protrusion that eagerly splays itself on bare skin, laving, relishing.

The noise you make in response is only a little bit hammed up. It does feel nice, but riling him up is more important right now. When the monster makes a strange rolling croon, soft and high, you inch closer to trail gloved fingertips on his right inner thigh, a teasing back and forth that might frustrate another male, but he seems content with it. Progress is made when the beekeeper's previously static hand jolts to life, stroking over himself more avidly than before, though still as clumsy. Another gross extremity comes to slobber on your neck, the two twining occasionally in the monster's enthusiasm. Drool is seeping into your clothes. Although your digits creep upwards just a tiny bit more with every to and fro, you bide your time.

He parts his legs further, almost imperceptibly so, and paired with his erratic wing flicking, you take it as an invitation. Colmei stiffens, in many ways, the moment you follow the curve of his balls and trace the root of him, hand venturing to join his and stroke his girth in tandem. It was sensuous, scrupulous, lazy.

But it was still too much.

The beekeeper jars, jumping away from your touch and presence in surprising speeds for such a large body. Monochrome robes are pushed down and he makes a distinctly hostile buzz much like the roar of an engine. Though, as quickly as it reverbs through the garden, Colmei appears to get a flash of self-awareness and strangles the rest of the cry into a high-pitched squeal. You raise an unamused eyebrow at him, watching incredulously when the hive guardian merely recedes into the distance, turning around the edge of the building to avoid you.

Hm.

Well that's a mission failed, for sure.

A bitter taste settles on your tongue. The defeat of sexual rejection is something you haven't had to deal with in a long time, although, Colmei's evident fear of being stimulated by another is amusing enough to wave that frustration away as you snicker to yourself. What is he doing now? Just sulking in the corner with a throbbing cock and tightened nuts? If he jerks off now and ruins your chance to get that sample, you're going to be so livid. What a pussbag.

...

Speaking of cowards...

A depraved little lightbulb dawns over your head.

You're going to lure Colmei into letting you touch him, by making him want to participate. But, for this next stunt, you need a volunteer. Not just anyone will do, criteria dictates said third element needs to have a moderately positive bond with the beekeeper.

You're not going to bother staff while they prepare for the day. Hellion is like a pest to Colmei, a nuisance in a good day. That leaves dear old Pebble.

Workable.

The fog that seems to poise over this infrastructure, shielding it, bathing the premises in properties you can't exactly comprehend, also affects plenty of the beings that inhabit this space. Naturally. The flock of gargoyles that's settled on the roof, the standard ones that is, seldom ever turns to stone in plain daylight.

You and Patches have conversed about this, it's likely due to the way the fog mutes some of the sunlight's qualities. Whatever sort of biological signals determine a gargoyle should enter "stone sleep" are filtered out. That's not to deny that there exist days where the sun is so potent it still manages to turn most into statues.

Pebble is odd. Of course he is, he's a mutant of the garden -Your sweet spawn of Krulu- But it seems he only partially turns to stone for a very brief span of time. You've caught him in states that weren't quite sleep nor consciousness, body shifting in jerky motions as he instinctively tried to stretch, looking around, but not able to move much aside from a step or two in ambiguous directions.

This half-awake half-asleep state appears to bother the gargoyle, so he's cleverly taken to nesting in spots that provide shade during the day, keeping himself mostly shielded and avoiding having his body paralyzed. In fact, you bet you won't have to search too much for him at all! Venturing to the opposite side of The Clergy's exterior, there's a flattish roof area there he tends to pick often. Although you could scale the building with your lord's arms, that likely won't be necessary.

" Pebble. " You call softly.

A few moments of silence pass.

" ... Pebble! " Comes out slightly more forcefully.

It's always a bit tricky with him. You don't want to raise your voice and make him accidentally interpret that you're angry at him. Having one monster run off is enough.

There's a sigh. " Damn it. Pebb- "

With a soft sort of click click clack of clawtips on darkened tiles, a paperbag clad head peeks out from the edge, followed by its twin.

The mutant offers you a confused, nervous glance, pinprick eye blinking tiredly before darting every which way. Yes yes, no one really likes getting woken from their beauty sleep. You understand him perfectly.

" Hi lovely. " Gentle gentle, he stares at you, still as quizzical as before. " Wanna come down here for a second? I need your help. "

The gargoyle hesitates. He always does, though you take no offense to it. That's just how he is. A good deal of time has passed ever since Pebble was welcomed into The Clergy, and the anomaly has come to trust some of the staff, you being one of them. If you didn't know better, you'd say he feels safe around you at times.

Making a brief come hither gesture, you wink cheekily at the blue mutant. " I promise it'll be fine. You can go back to sleep when I'm done. "

Another long pause settles, his arms steadying the monster on the roof. Patience is affordable today, you can't rush this plan, after all. So you merely stand there, silently and passively exerting pressure on the garden anomaly. It always works.

In a moment, robust wings stretch and flap, as if waking themselves up as well, and Pebble gets into position, leaping from the tall roof, down onto several sections, finally landing a small distance beside you with this ground-shaking-

THUNK

Yes, being made of solid, compact stone is quite perilous... Between him and the robot, you wonder which one's mass is more destructive.

Nevertheless, with the gargoyle now approachable, you calmly stroll over and smile, taking a rough blue hand onto yours. Pebble's fingers twitch a little and he makes a curious chuff, ruby eye ever trained on you. Twin tails lash behind him when you bring the stone to your lips for a chaste kiss, his breath hitches timidly.

" Thank you. " You start, softly leading the comparatively large monster back to where you were when Colmei rejected you. The longer you walk, the more antsy your friend seems to get. " I promise I don't want anything weird. "

Lord knows the dullahan and the wraith massacred poor Pebble for details when he was formed. Just as they did Hellion, though that aptly named scoundrel has always had a lot more swipe and bite in him.

As you halt, you sadly confirm that the beekeeper is nowhere to be seen. Something that won't matter in the long run, yet still manages to peeve you a tad.

" Pebble- " You turn to the gargoyle. " Do you want to fuck me? "

For all the gentleness you had been sparing him thus far, that was quite the bold invitation.

When that red pinprick turns into an even smaller little dot in the pitch black, jagged hole of his bag, it's hard to resist cackling. He was most definitely caught off-guard, hunching, letting out a breath he had been holding. Silence ensues, though he's not stepping away, so you'll assume his libido will overpower that cowardice today. There's something almost suspicious about the way he regards you. As if he can't quite bring himself to believe you've woken him from a dead sleep... Just to fuck him.

And he's right.

You have ulterior motives, but, even if he can't tell, there are virtually no downsides to it. So you might as well have just woken him for a romp, yes.

Pebble eventually makes an unintelligible garble and twiddles his thumbs, sparing you quick glances. A sort of "Are you sure I can?" if there ever was one.

Hah, cute.

Unable to hide the mirth in your smirk, you giggle and loop your arms around the monster's hard waist, observing the fascinating way an unholy union of stone and flesh mold when his chest heaves in surprise. He's gruesome and pretty all at once, the garden did exceptionally well when it created Pebble.

" Is that a 'yes' I see? " You mock, receiving shy, unsynchronized nodding from both heads. " Good, then let's not waste any time. "

You pull the gargoyle along while taking several steps backwards, until your outfit brushes against the building's wall. Although clearly interested, Pebble never usually takes much of an initiative. Not because he doesn't want to, you can see it in the way his extremities twitch and his tails impatiently sway, it's always that unknowable fear keeping him at bay, that insecurity. It's far from a turn off though, and such is seen when you slide your work dress up, hearing him chuff at the sight of your laced panties when the fabric gathers at your hips.

Poor little baby, getting bothered already.

You do like these panties, they've been a favorite pair of yours because of how transparent they are, and many of the staff members have admired them already. You don't think Pebble has though, so you drink in his witless arousal like an impeccable wine. A gloved digit unceremoniously peels your panties to the side, and you're sure he can smell the very first hints of wetness gathering on your pussylips, because he does that distinct sort of shnort that a lot of monsters do when they sense an easy hole.

Grabbing his hand once more, you first take care to bring those clawed fingers to your mouth. Sure, it's not exactly the softest sensation gliding on your tongue, but that doesn't matter. What you want to do is get him as slippery as possible to facilitate things, and rile rouse him further. It works wonderfully in your favor, the mutant huffing and making an odd sort of impatient whimper. Your motions are lazy, making sure you have some eye contact as you intentionally let yourself drool heavily on him, strings of it already coating your chin when you make a quiet moan around his digits.

Pebble showcases a rare display of assertiveness when he ever so subtly slides more of his two fingers into your mouth, and you bob to accompany him, flustering the anomaly to stillness again. You know he'd rather have something else in there. The look of mild awe that crosses his face when you release his now soaked fingers is borderline hilarious. He plays with the drool around his digits sheepishly and you only titter quietly as you lead that very same hand to the main prize.

The gargoyle grunts, more than enjoying the softness of your already mildly interested pussy against himself. Sometimes you wonder what he thinks of others, who are so much softer than him. Does he enjoy that, their comparative warmth? Is it something he wishes he could have? You bet it feels really nice for him to lean onto his partners, sink into plush, giving bodies such as yours.

With a soft pat to the back of his palm, Pebble grasps the signal that he's meant to move, though only tentatively strokes over the length of your entrance, afraid it'll bite or something. Your patience wavers, gripping him and making harsher motions, letting him know you like to get your clit rolled hard. The mutant purrs when you let out pleased sighs, dipping into soft moans. Finally, he starts moving that big hand on his own, offering as much pleasure as he can in a slightly clumsy but very eager to please way. There's another frantic growl-keen when you buck against him. Humorously, when Pebble sinks one of his fingers into you, knuckle deep, he makes a sound as if he had sunk his whole cock into your walls, shuddering and everything.

This time, your laughter is loud and hearty, startling the mutant. " No no- " You stress when it feels as if he's going to pull away. " You're doing so well, please keep going. I can take more. "

Praise, ever the fuel for the hearts of the devoted, gets him to resume, curling his finger slightly and delighting in the unflattering wet noise that follows, before squeezing a saliva-soaked twin inside as well. You fear he's going to melt, at this rate. The small stretch has you groaning and squeezing, encouraging him to plunge into your cunt to his heart's content.

" Fuck yeah, open me up for your fat cock. "

That one apparently sent him wild, because he does just that. The haze of sleep vanishes off his body instantly, and the monster curves to be closer, watching his own blue digits get swallowed by your sweet hole, coating him in slick the harder he gives it to you. It's always a treat when Pebble's brave enough to be remotely dominant, because his natural density adds a weight to his every motion that easily rocks those subjected to them. Your head leans back and you fully give into the stings of pleasure that pierce you every so often, mouth open in a satisfied expression he's likely eating up right now.

When the gargoyle's noises become frequent and louder, you have the wherewithal to glance down, seeing the growth throbbing between his legs, dripping precum along its length and almost twitching in tandem with every clench of your cunt. He's beyond needy, and in a short span of time, which is ideal. Reeling at your own filthy little ideas, you shove his hand out of your opening and pull the monster closer. It takes a little bit for Pebble to get it, but he eventually hunches enough to make up for the height difference, such so that you can grab the head of his red, knub-adorned cock and press it to your soaked pussy.

Pebble groans incomprehensibly, immediately starting to hump, gliding that hot length across you in a way that allows you to feel every slight protrusion. You cry out and grind against each other for a couple of disgraceful, horny little moments, with you mischievously tugging at the roots of his tails just to feel the gargoyle's ass flex briefly. He's adorable.

The moment the winged monster tries to angle himself differently, obviously seeking to penetrate, you lightly push him off. Don't want to ruin the best part of the plan just yet now, do you?

Pebble whines, the spare head growls.

" Oh shush. "

You don't want to do this here, in the pavement. You're sure Pebble won't give two shits about how hard the ground is, but you'd rather not ruin your outfit or scrape yourself right now. Instead, you lead him to the closest flowerbed. As much as you'd like to playfully throw Pebble onto it, he's pretty immovable in his default state, so you can only push and ineffectively try to tickle your winged lover boy until he gets the message.

Twisted, misshapen and teeth-clad flowers unroot, scattering on strange hidden limbs with startled squeaks when the gargoyle lays on his back, wings spread and member pointing upwards. You're quick to jump onto him, and even if you spare the mutant some loving moments full of pecks to his chest and belly, even allowing him to feel your tits when you begin undoing the top part of your dress, you very quickly turn around on his lower abdomen.

He gets a fantastic view of your full ass as you grind generously over his girth, teasing the two of you further. When trembling hands scheme the globes of your behind and settle on plushy hips, you let the gargoyle ground himself, rising slightly to line yourself up with him. A tongue flicks over dry lips, eyeing the not yet fattened knot at the base of his length.

You make sure every soul in this establishment hears it when you slam yourself onto Pebble's cock.

" HNN OHHN- "

It rings out just as loudly as you wanted it to, followed by Pebble's strangled garble before he audibly gulps and seems to pause from the reaction he ripped out of you. The silence around you becomes bashful, like you rattled the building and its residents to stillness. If Santi was here, he'd commend you for the pornstar moan.

You've no doubt you've roused a couple of peepers. There's a faint tingle in the back of your mind, Krulu now tangentially paying attention to what's happening. You suppose hearing his vessel cry out like a bitch in heat out of nowhere is more than a little curious.

After that little break where you watch Pebble disappear almost entirely into you, squeezing around his hardness, feeling him buck his hips softly in desperation, you smile and let yourself go, riding him to your heart's content.

Leaning forward, hands planted firmly on his legs, you use as much force as you need to make each pound downward really count. You're not afraid of being too rough, Pebble's sturdy, he can deal with the slap of your ass on his body, with the mad squeeze of your spasming pussy around those perfect bumps, stopping periodically just to grind and rip more filthy noises out of yourself.

He tries, boy does he try to do anything, but you're too much for him. Too confident, too hot, too wet and welcoming. Pebble can only whimper out nonsensical pleas, heaving and panting hard enough you can hear his paper bags crumple when his teeth accidentally catch them. He groans and drools, not that you can see the small pool of it between his tits as he watches your gorgeous form bounce, fruitlessly attempting to feed into your merciless rhythm but getting completely overpowered in seconds.

You almost wish you could see his fucked out state for yourself, the mental images accompanying each frantic little noise of his having you gasping and crying out.

" Fffuck yes, you're such a good boy for me, aren't you? " You coo in-between pants of slight effort. " You'll let me ride you anywhere, won't you, sweetheart? Anything to get your cock wet, huh? "

Pebble's responding sound is like a slurred, low moan, legs jerking and tails spasming while the dick inside you throbs so hard you thought he was going to cum for a second there. In fact, for a couple of completely lust-drunk moments, you totally forget what you're doing. Sure, you're ridding the lights out of this gargoyle, but what for anymore...?

As if fate heard said thought, a soft buzz jolts your memory.

In the very same corner he had once disappeared to, stands none other than Colmei, watching like a little voyeur. And you don't doubt he's not the only one right now, but he's the peeping Tom you were specifically looking forward to.

The beekeeper stands warily, wings moving rapidly behind his back in what must only equate to excitement, claws tugging anxiously at his own garbs, which happen to be hilariously tented where his engorged cock bulges with need, already staining those ash-colored robes into a depraved wet mess.

Although you can't tell for sure, you'd bet that mask-clad gaze is fixed on the sway of your tits and the sight of your hungry cunt swallowing Pebble without rest. You make it a point to sit up slightly so he can see better.

Good, perfect, watch and drool, little freak. This is what he declined. It could be him beneath you now, if he wasn't such a dumbass earlier. It could be him twisting and arching like Pebble on the ground, warbling for more and more and harder-

You force yourself to think clearly, halting things to a crawl.

The gargoyle's infuriated snarl dies into a miserable sob, one of his arms leaving you to punch down on the grass beside him. He makes another distressed bray, and while you understand his pain perfectly, you need to focus now.

" Quiet. Patience. " It was an order. And, admittedly, he's very obedient about it, murmuring his displeasure when you slap his thigh softly. Ouch.

Your previous hammering becomes a slow, luscious roll of the hips, gloves removed so you can feel yourself up for the peeper's viewing pleasure. He takes a small step forward, clearly wanting to approach, but still held back by something that is honestly starting to infuriate you.

" Colmei... " You moan at the next surge of pleasure.

The beekeeper shivers and seems to wake at the call. You don't miss Pebble's confused grunt at you calling out someone else's name.

In a vaguely childish gesture, you pout and make grabby hands at the darker monster, stopping to play with your breasts, rolling them together just to thrill, casting Colmei the most needful look you can muster.

His resolve visibly falters, the clear invitation having him frozen mid-step.

" Please... Comei. "

Oh, nothing can curb the Cheshire grin that spreads so eagerly on your cheeks, splitting them, when the insectoid monster caves.

He does the walk of shame over to you, as he should, arm over his blatant erection and posture like that of a bashful mutt getting caught in the trash can. Only now does Pebble, still impatiently trying to get some friction started, realize someone else is getting closer. The gargoyle lifts his heads behind you, offering a strange sort of snort-chuff at Colmei.

" Hey now. " You warn.

The two of them have gotten along on several occasions, though the mutant is clearly interpreting the beekeeper's presence as that of a challenger. As if Colmei's going to yank you off him and dash away. You suppose this can be new for them both.

" I'm not going anywhere. " You assure Pebble, tossing him a look. The gargoyle murmurs, slightly placated.

When Colmei halts in front of you, it's not too hard to get him to roll his robes up, his pretty pitch black cock bobbing in anticipation, the male's breath clipped. Before even so much as reaching for him, you offer a skeptical, challenging glance.

Are you going to be difficult now?

Colmei appears to interpret the basic gist of it well-enough, buzzing quietly and bending big legs slightly so his offering is properly reachable. If that's not a pathetic beg, then you don't know what is.

" Mmm, are you sure? "

He makes another droning noise, this one climbing to high sputtering, almost like an apology, regret. Good. In his desperation, Colmei allows his tip to poise on your lips, spreading a bead of something so sweet your eyes widen when you swipe your tongue across it. Huh. You pat the small pocket on the side of your bunched up dress, finding the small vial still secured there.

Beneath you, Pebble seems about ready to burst out crying, hips starting to buck uselessly even if he's been told to behave. Poor thing, you figure you've tortured him enough. Knowing it's going to take a bit of coordination, you reach around to find the blue monster's hands, urging him to bend slightly so he can grab your waist, moving them, letting the gargoyle know he should use you however he pleases. Immediately, he starts bouncing you quickly, little rabbit thrusts that have you rocking slightly and laughing amidst the jolts of sensation now reawakening.

Redirecting your attention to Colmei, you make sure he's watching when you lace both hands on his length, motions a lot more practiced than his, letting him know that ambiguous pawing won't get him anywhere. The beekeeper's whole body rattles in a visceral shiver, you're able to see the muscles of his legs tense and his lower abdomen tighten as he discovers a brand new world of pleasure. Hopefully, he'll learn from this. The monster coos something in a fast staccato, a lot more active than Pebble, thrusting into your grip and huffing every time you stop to circle cruelly over his tip.

With so much curiosity biting at you, it doesn't take long before you're putting soft lips against him again, trailing a stripe from the root of his dick to the head, marveling at the slightly musky taste of his skin. The beekeeper instinctually holds onto your head, making a low, shocked sort of hum the second you take him in properly- Treated to the view of you slowly sinking more of him into your mouth, a playful tongue feeling around as he gets into your throat.

Thank Krulu for his training and body modifications. You'd be a little upset if you couldn't take him all in.

Colmei rattles with pleasure the moment he's fully enveloped by the warmth of your gulping maw, twitching inside you, shuddering when his balls brush your chin. Speaking of, might as well play around while you can. One hand grabs his leg for support, the other thumbs and rolls his nuts, if only just to hear his breath hitch again. Pebble, who unbeknownst to you has been watching the entire exchange, finally starts fucking you onto him properly- Perhaps out of jealousy that his neighbor is getting twofold your attention.

It's very easy for him to lift you, most monsters find the majority of humans easy to maneuver, though being made of such hard material definitely helps. The pleasant surprise of getting hammered onto his length has you moaning gleefully around Colmei, who begins moving as well, careful enough not to let you slip off him. While the gargoyle seems to be quickly recovering that previously lost climb, making self-satisfied noises at the vocalizations he elicits from you, Colmei is only starting to get into what might be his first oral servicing, snapping angrily at the blue mutant whenever he gets rowdy enough to nearly displace you.

" Hahh... Getting close? " You call to Pebble, able to slip off Colmei's cock for a moment to catch your breath.

Strings of drool mixed with excessively viscous precum cling to your jaw, the beekeeper's too restless to stay still, rubbing his wet cock on your cheek while you wait for a response. Your stone-hard sybian nods feverishly, a guilty noise echoing.

" That's fine, sweetie, don't hold back. "

You can barely finish the sentence before Colmei's trying to angle himself into your mouth again, throwing a glare at the beekeeper. Nonetheless, Pebble understands, and he rumbles out in delight, now pounding you from below with a vengeance that has you comically bobbing and gagging onto the insectoid without much work. Between the slap of your ass on him, the wetness of your cunt getting bred and the slurp of your lips around the other's cock- You don't even know which is more obscene.

It's easy to slip into a pleasured trance, skin erupting into goosebumps as you're used and loved on by the two, hands dropping to feel your own breasts and glide down your inner thighs, rolling your clit appeasingly. There are many, many benefits to your job, the best of them of course being fulfilling Lord Krulu's will- But sometimes, you think getting to service and show love to those sworn to him is up there in terms of reward. The rush of your approaching orgasm has you mewling sweetly, clenching increasingly hard around Pebble in an attempt to keep him snug inside you, kissing all the deepest parts of your core.

Apparently, that does the trick for the gargoyle.

Because he strangles out a snarl of rapture and sinks you fully onto him, claws tightening on your skin in pure instinct, keeping you screwed onto his fattening cock as that delicious knot begins to swell to its full potential. The stretch is harsh, unforgiving and burning hot but so, so worth it just to have it crush your most sensitive spots, pressuring, throbbing. You come hard the moment a burst of thick steaming gargoyle seed paints your walls, coating you, claiming you, filling you so nicely. The weight settles on your lower abdomen and you drool on Colmei's thick cock in glee, pussy pulsing for more. Pebble purrs loudly, previously clenched claws now stroking lovingly over your sides, tails swatting as he relaxes, with his still weakly spurting shaft lodged firmly within you.

" Good boy! Good job, you did so well! " You praise him, feeling his thighs flex briefly while he murrs and croons his gratitude.

That leaves the bee collector, who you can now focus fully on, lavishing him from top to bottom like the sweetest lollipop out there. And, admittedly, he is quite sugary to the taste. There's a playful perking of your lips as you teasingly mouth around his head again, flirting with his hole, leaning away when Colmei tries to push more into you. The male grunts, then makes a sound like a dying keen, cock jumping and balls tightening.

It seems maybe he does have a thing for edging. Perhaps that's why he takes so long to bring himself to orgasm, he does it deliberately, the little pervert. And now he's loving it when someone else does it to him. Hah.

Now that Pebble's down for the count and you've had your fun, you can afford to play with Colmei like he's no more than an interesting toy. He'll twitch and beg in that ceaseless humming, but all you ever do is lick, kiss and nudge at him, occasionally dipping to take some of his length down- You make the beekeeper belive that you'll swallow him to the base anew only to pop lewdly off him not even halfway there and chuckle.

He pulses so hard you're impressed he didn't climax right then and there.

Enough is enough however, you're starting to get sore from having your knees bent for so long. In a gluttonous fit, you suck Colmei down like he's the last male on Earth, ripping a grunt-hiss of shock out of him before he grabs your head sternly and fucks into your face with enough strength to hurt your nose briefly.

The hive guardian begins cumming down your throat alarmingly quick. The resulting substance is extremely thick and hard to swallow, sticking to your throat in a way that forces you to instinctively cough and sputter globs of his own jizz back around his member. Colmei only appears to thrill further at the sight.

With a couple of sharp jerks and warning sounds, you're finally able to rip your head off the beekeeper's grasp, tasting his seed for the first time. And even though the distinct flavor of what can only be honey is quite surprising -If not ironically hilarious- You're hurriedly fishing the vial out so you can collect a fair amount of Colmei's seed. A somewhat contaminated sample, sure, but it's better than nothing.

In his post-nut bliss, the monster doesn't really care as to why you're gathering his fluids, merely buzzing pleasantly, wings erratically flicking. His last few shots drip down your neck and coat your exposed tits. The cheeky fuck has the gall to try to wipe his cock on your face, met with a cautionary pinch from your part.

It must be some kind of honey. It tastes exactly like it. Even the color is that of a rich, glazed hue. Maybe this can even be profitable!

The vial is lowered to the ground, all three of you relaxing in the relative silence of the garden under a satisfying haze. Colmei pulls his robes down and squats before you, mask set aside safely so three roving tongues can weasel across your skin, licking the side of your neck and chin, cleaning you of his own savory mess. Behind you, the gargoyle rises as well, with a slight wince from the jostling of his sensitive cock in you, a fatter and less slimy muscle laving at your shoulder and dipping between your stained tits.

You sigh happily, slumping onto Pebble and letting the two sweethearts take care of your tired figure.

Mission accomplished.

#Beekeeper boie #Pebble oc #monsterfucker #terato #monster x reader #monster smut #terat0philliac #monster boyfriend #MINORS DNI #not sfw

[daegutowns]

svt as new dads

tags: dad!au, svt are new fathers with infants, mentions that the reader was pregnant, references to fem!reader, babies, i’m crying hot tears right now, urin drop it like hot hot, i’m a strong believer in svt’s families agenda

seungcheol: girl dad alert! cheol is a sucker for his kids, and you know it. your baby girl is going to grow up as a daddy’s girl no matter how hard you try to win her over to your side. cheol wants to spoil that baby silly. no worries -- he spent the entire time while you carried her making it the easiest time for you. no stress, no heavy lifting, no bad thoughts! “baby, you need something?” and he’s there. even during the early days, he always tells you to go back to sleep when the baby’s crying because he’ll take care of it. he doesn’t really trust the other members with his baby (because he watched them drop kick each other -- no way he’s going to let them hold his baby), but seeing you laugh and hand her off to them melts his heart even more than before. he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. and he’s willing to put everything into taking care of you and your baby girl. 

jeonghan: he’s the type of dad that loves spending time playing with the little kiddies. his humor is sometimes right around theirs, so no matter what they do, he’s always giggling with them. it’s very endearing. your tired body spending time with your lovely husband who’s struggling but successfully entertaining a baby. this is your family, and it warms your heart. jeonghan might not know all the ins and outs of childcare, but he loves carrying the baby around and laughing at all the things your baby finds interesting. he just has a certain laugh that’s reserved just for them. 

joshua: another girl dad! he has been hoping… praying… begging, even, for a girl. he’s been preparing very meticulously. he learned how to braid hair, how to do pigtails, and how to color coordinate outfits. knowing josh, he’s pulled all the stops. after learning about your pregnancy, josh was the most excited one about it. every day, he goes to sleep with a smile on his face knowing he’s going to be a dad! he grew very close with his mom after talking to her a lot about how to take care of one and how he was as a kid. much to your surprise as well, josh also became close with your parent(s)/caregiver(s) in the same way. you just know you’ll find josh singing sunday morning to your baby girl more than once. 

jun: he hard carries your post-pregnancy days. baby crying? no worries. he’s already on it. many days, you find him sleeping on the couch with the baby in his arms. they’re both so cute that you fill folders full of those photos. a lot of times, seeing the baby sleeping makes him tired too. it’s cute because that baby gets the same droopy eyes as him, so it’s very easy to tell when they’re sleepy. the baby sleeps in a cradle next to his side of the bed. later on, sometimes you catch him eating some of the baby’s food in between spoonfuls of feeding them. you scold him every time (because “that food’s for the baby, jun. you have your own!”) but he just grins at you and continues feeding your kid. you just know the baby is going to be just like their dad. 

hoshi: this one is a bit funny. he loves babies and he’s definitely interacted with them before, but he’s never had to really take a good look at a baby. not gonna lie, fatherhood is a steep learning curve for hoshi. his first times changing a diaper (what am i supposed to do with this?), burping the baby (what if it breaks?), seeing you breastfeed (because what do you mean you have to pump? what about the baby?), and putting them to sleep really brings him more appreciation to you (who will end up doing most of the baby caretaking) and his mom who took care of him. to make it easier on you, he tries to do whatever he can. he lets you take naps throughout the day by playing with the baby and feeding with the bottles to give you the space you need. he likes talking and singing with the baby because it gives him time to bond. you let him decorate the baby’s room. it is tiger/jungle themed. the baby wears a tiger onesie. he teaches the baby how to horanghae. your baby is horanghae. 

wonwoo: he’s a dad who shows his love through his actions rather than his words. after finding out you were pregnant, he bought a lot of parenting books, took a lot of notes, and even studied baby nutrition so you can be as prepared as you can be. wonwoo is always overjoyed with the idea of being a dad. after you had the baby, his favorite activity is seeing how the baby loves when he laughs and they’re laying on his chest. the vibrations of his dad’s laugh soothes him into giggles and smiles every time. you tell wonwoo it’s because it was their favorite thing to hear while it was in the womb -- its own beethoven symphony. with his love of filmography and editing, that baby is going to grow up with a bucket full of flashdrives about their life. after all, there’s nothing more endearing to wonwoo than you growing as a mother and his baby, who has many more amazing memories to come. and he’ll be there every step of the way.

woozi: this is a dad who has been possessed by the ancestors to become a dad full of wisdom. you don’t even really know what happened, but you had a baby and now your husband walks around like the most dad-ful dad of all time. he likes walking around with the baby and multitasking. the baby carried with pats on the back while the other hand is still producing music… mark his words, this baby will be the next genius producer. he is enrolling that baby in piano lessons as soon as they can run around. but for now, he’s gained a lifetime of dad wisdom and even makes funny-not-so-funny dad jokes too. he’s truly just a born dad. 

dokyeom: he cried. seriously, every single big moment of this baby’s life, dk has cried. you’re pregnant? tears. baby is born? tears. baby is named? tears. announcing the baby to his family, your family, and seventeen? still more tears. dk’s baby is his lifeline, and he is obsessed with being a dad. he loves carrying his baby to the hybe building, because it makes him proud when other idols and hybe staff compliment him on how pretty his baby is. his answer is always, “it’s all from the mom,” but you can always tell he’s brimming with pride. but if you thought dk was loud, you’d be sorry to hear that your baby has inherited his very spacious lung capacity and vocal chords. good luck hearing ever again between dk and your baby. 

myungho: somehow, he makes parenting look so easy and cool. he likes when everyone in your little family is wearing matching clothes. he’ll buy himself and you a matching sweater. and then he’ll also get one for your baby, too. it always is such a hit whenever you all go outside together or meet the family. hao calls your baby his little bao bun, since their cheeks are so squishy like bao! sometimes he doesn’t know what to do with all of the cuteness overload. at the end of the day, he likes to sit there with a smile on his face and watch you talk to the baby as you put him to sleep. 

mingyu: there is not one person who loves being a dad more than mingyu. seriously, he is so in love with this baby. he is so in love with you for making this baby, too. the first time seeing the baby laugh make him burst into giggles so hard, and you’re glad you filmed it on your phone. mingyu is into scrapbooking, and he likes sitting with you at the table while your baby is sleeping to arrange the photos and create scrapbook upon scrapbook of your kid’s early days. mingyu loves playing with the baby, and you know he’s already plotting and scheming on ways to have more kids. the more the better for him. your family’s first halloween had to be a puppy-themed one for obvious reasons. mingyu screams girl dad, but you know he would love your baby regardless of if they were a girl or boy. (but he would be so happy doing their pigtails and buying them little bows for their hair.) mingyu loves when the other members come over and play with your kid too. his heart is just so full of love to give. 

seungkwan: another girl dad alert. but, he wants at least one boy and one girl. he’s very invested in the entire girl dad vibe. his idea of speaking with the babies is spilling tea with them. your baby is always so enthralled by it, like they know what he’s saying and they want more. it amuses seungkwan to no end, so he always looks forward to his nightly debrief when he comes home and he sits down with you holding the baby to spill the tea. he was always very nervous about holding the baby, because babies are fragile and get hurt easily and have soft bones and cry a lot and-- yes. he was definitely very nervous about being a dad, but he likes singing them lullabies to sleep and taking them on walks outside. 

vernon: honestly, he didn’t see himself as a dad until he became one. he was very surprised about the pregnancy (“oh, wow. really?!”) and he spent a lot of time bragging about how he was going to be a dad. he’s excited, and you can tell because he came home with some new idea or new item every day. after the baby is born, he found out that the baby loves seeing his facial expressions. sometimes, you can find the baby mimicking him, which is so funny. vernon enjoys the simplicities behind fatherhood, and always offers to help you out in many roles. he changes the diaper (though learning how to do it the first time was crazy), prepares the bottled milk, and reads the baby stories in his downtime. he loves the slice of life type of activities. 

dino: surprise, he’s a boy dad! he is always jumping off the walls about how he wants to teach his son how to dance, just like how his dad taught him how to dance. all throughout the whole process of pregnancy and birth and beyond, he was very attentive to what you needed. he made sure to pay special attention to the baby’s birth certificate, because you both didn’t need a lee jungchan junior. he likes playing with the baby and being someone you can lean on. just like his group calls him the super maknae and the future of kpop, you like to call him a super dad and the future of your baby’s childhood. 

#daegutowns #svt as dads #svt dad au #svt father au #svt families #svt au #svt girl dads #svt boy dads #svt x fem!reader #svt x reader #svt x y/n #svt x you

[cheolism]

for you, the world

seungcheol x gn! reader

summary: feeling as though seungcheol's feelings towards you had changed, you confront him.

wc is approx 2.4k

genre: angst and comfort. idol au.

warning/notes: a reference to the feeling of being choked. depression and anxiety from both cheol and the reader. mentions of depression and anxiety. serious discussions of feelings, feeling vulnerable, being honest even though it's scary.

request: how do you think scoups reacts when the love of his life asks him to love her more than she loves him

author: i realized you wanted a reaction and not a oneshot too late!!! but here's the requested reaction

You were twisting your hands, wringing your fingers and scraping your nails against your skin. You refused to look at Seungcheol, staring at his feet where he still wore the sneakers he had hurriedly put on before going to practice that day, having had no time to do much else after waking up late.

It wasn't hard to see the weariness on your face, not when you held your body away from him, as if he was a stranger you were about to bare your heart to and not the man you've been dating for four years.

You were wearing mismatched socks. Your sweats were uneven, one leg having rolled up to your knee and the other bunched loosely around your ankle. The hoodie was his, and Seungcheol knew that if he were to press closer he would be able to smell his cologne.

"Baby," Seungcheol began, hesitant.

You shook your head roughly, cutting him off. "Wait. Let me get all this out first. I'm trying, Cheol, it's just -- it's hard."

He nodded. Seungcheol smoothed his hands over his pants, trying to rub off the sweat that had begun to collect there. He would be lying if he ever tried to say he wasn't an anxious person, but concerning your relationship? Seungcheol always thought navigating your relationship was like sailing a under the brilliant sun, using its brightness as a guide.

But all of a sudden he felt as if the sun had given to darkness and rain, thunderclouds cracking overhead and stirring the sea; he was in uncharted territory, and he felt as if time was beginning to work against him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, composing yourself. "I'm just -- it's hard. Being honest. Not in the way that people think. If someone asks me my opinion on something I'll give it, but this. Being honest like this is hard."

That's what Seungcheol liked about you. You were honest. It dripped off of you just like your sweetness did, just as thick as honey. You were honest with your words, but with your expressions moreso. More than once, when Seungcheol pointed out a certain look or expression you got, you would explain that your face was your weakness; even if you had ever managed to tell a lie, your face would give it away.

But this honesty, the honesty you were trying to give to Seungcheol, was different. It wasn't telling Minghao that his brightly colored outfit wasn't coordinated, no matter how Minghao would try to convince you otherwise. It wasn't your look of disgust when Mingyu tells a joke that doesn't land.

It was the honesty of taking your soul out of your chest and revealing it. It was showing someone the deepest, darkest thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind, in hidden corners that no sunshine could ever reach.

It was, Seungcheol knew, the same honesty that had him calling you at three in the morning, sobbing, as he felt his depression grip him around the throat and squeeze to the point of no return.

So he was still and silent, observing you. Letting you speak.

"I think --" you tried once, twice, voice and heart rebelling against one another. "I feel. I feel, wrongly, horribly, that -- that you don't love me anymore."

For a moment Seungcheol didn't understand what you were saying. It was like when someone suddenly speaks about something that happened long ago, a veil of fog over the memory before it was revealed.

But then the accusation filtered through his ears, through the fog. It pierced through his brain and landed in his heart, digging into it, puncturing.

He opened his mouth immediately to protest. Seungcheol loved you. He loved you.

When he was younger and still bright-eyed, when he sang about first loves and flower paths, when it felt like it was him and his members against the world, Seungcheol hadn't really taken much stock in the words he sang. They were words that Jihoon so eloquently wrote, each holding the considerable weight of their future success and whether it was worth it -- whether Seventeen was worth it. But they were words.

But then he met you, dated you, fell in love with you. And he understood what it meant when they sang about feeling clumsiness around a crush, when he had the irresistible urge to tell you about his adoration for you. Every single word he ever rapped or sang seemed to have made sense. Every single word, from the first ever song to now, was for you. It was all for you, even if he didn't know it at the time.

And now --

Now you were saying --

"I know -- I know what you'll say," you rushed on, having seen his bewildered look. "I know it. Seungcheol, I know you love me. I know it. I know, I know, I know.

"But at the same time --" Your voice cracked, and you turned your head sharply. Your arms moved to cradle yourself, squeezing your shoulders. "At the same time I have this voice. This thought. And of course I was able to ignore it, for the longest time I did. But now --"

Seungcheol watched as you took one deep breath, lungs filling. You held it for three seconds; released. You did this twice more, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders rising and lowering.

He immediately recognized it as something he taught you. He had researched ways to soothe oneself and had stumbled upon this breathing technique. Seungcheol remembered your wide eyes as you looked up at him, awed with how well it worked.

"Now," you said, voice calmer. You still didn't look at him. "Now it's like you don't even want to be around. Around me. You get home late from practice, getting stuff to eat with the guys after. And that's fine! Of course it's fine for you to hang out with them, of course it's fine for you to hang out with your friends. I'm not saying that. I'm not.

"But you come home late, past the time I can stay up because of work. And then I wake up and you're still asleep. And on the weekends you wake late, because you're exhausted, of course. But you wake up late and have no time for anything other than a shower and a meal before you go running off to practice. And it repeats."

You reached up, rubbing at your nose. You had been crying, Seungcheol realized. "Or you go and hang out at Hybe with the boys. And I can't go there. You know that. Or hang out with them and their friends, their expensive and shiny friends, and you know how I am with strangers. You know what it's like to be the only dull thing in a room of shining people."

And he did. Fuck, he did.

"You don't even text me," you cried, your voice finally giving out. Your hands went to your cheeks, furiously rubbing. Seungcheol wanted to cross the room to you in that instant, to take you into his arms and press kisses to your forehead and tell you to save it, that surely this conversation could wait for another day.

But he knew it couldn't.

Not when you were crying over it, not when it was so obviously driving you to exhaustion worrying about it.

"I text you all the time. I text you about every single fucking thing that makes me laugh or smile because I think it'll make you happy. I tell you about whatever dog I see, about whatever kid I see running about. And you just -- you don't even respond.

"And I know the messages usually aren't about anything important. But I just -- you can't even acknowledge it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. But it was no use. You were sobbing. You were sobbing like your heart was breaking, and Seungcheol knew his was.

"It's like you won't even acknowledge me," you sobbed, chest heaving. "You won't even look at me, it feels like!

"Seungcheol," you slapped a hand over your mouth. You weren't even stopping your tears now, not even wiping them away. It was just as bad as seeing you trying to hide them, Seungcheol thought.

It was like you were giving up.

"Seungcheol," you began again, voice thick, "why can you love me like I love you? Why can't you love me just even a fraction more than I love you?"

It was like you had been preparing him for the plunge. You put him in lukewarm weather, then cold. Each and every word of yours was preparing Seungcheol, was giving way to some horrible truth that was clawing out of the back of your mind, leaving its dark corner. But then you picked him up out of that cold water and plunged him into Arctic water, the temperature shocking him and electrifying his body.

Because nothing, nothing, could ever prepare him for that.

There were a few things Seungcheol couldn't imagine you ever saying. He couldn't imagine you ever saying that apple juice was better than orange; that football was better than basketball. Just like he never, ever, could have imagined you saying that you doubted his love for you.

It was like you and Seungcheol were standing in the rain. It was soaking your clothes, making your hair cling to your head. There was no sun, it being hidden by thick dark rain clouds. Both of you could hear the rain smacking against the pavement.

But, nonetheless, you were turning to him and saying how you liked bright and sunny days like this one.

Then, Seungcheol realized, the two of you weren't just standing in the rain. He was being pelted with it, his love so obvious for you that it seeped into his clothes and in his very being. But, even though you were standing beside him, you were holding an umbrella, protected from the rain.

You were quiet in front of him, shrinking back into yourself. You were turning your shoulders from him, clutching at your elbows as you hugged yourself. Still you were hiding your eyes from his. "I'm sorry, Cheol. I know it's ridic --"

Unable to help himself, Seungcheol was shooting off the couch. Your body was in his arms before he really realized what he was doing. He was pressing your body into his, feeling your elbows awkwardly dig into his chest, your face dig into his collar. Almost instantly your tears were soaking his shirt.

"Listen," he started, voice thick and stern. "Listen to me, baby. I have spent every day of the past three and a half years loving you. I have loved you through some of the worst fucking days of my life."

Seungcheol pulled away, his hands going to your cheeks. He wiped at your tears, your eyes shining from them. You sniffled; he echoed it.

When had he stared crying?'

"You listen to me," he said, feeling his jaw clench. He didn't let you look away, turning your face to keep his eyes trained on yours. "I have loved you even when I hated myself. Even when I didn't know how I could love anyone or anything, I loved you.

"I loved you when you showed up for our sixth month anniversary wearing that cute smile and the little cherry earrings. Remember them? I loved you when you took me to meet your grandparents, loved you when I brought you to mine and my grandpa couldn't believe how I managed to find someone as sweet and kind and clever as you to call my own.

"I loved you when you got Josh to teach you how to make bracelets so you could make one for me. I loved you when you sat with Jeonghan and made me that silly Lego flower set. I loved you when you stayed up far-too-fucking-late to FaceTime me on tour. I loved you when you got me that silly little fucking bear at the Airport Giftshop for way to much money just because you said it reminded you of me.

"I loved you when I did nothing but sit in the dark. When you would show up with food and love and just hold me.

"That doesn't just go away," Seungcheol breathed, blinking to try and see you through his tears. "I've always loved you. Always. Nothing can change that."

You burrowed into him, your hands clinging to his shirt. Seungcheol squashed you against him, feeling as if even a centimeter of space between the two of you was too much.

"I'm sorry." He licked his lips, pressing his eyes shut and laying his head on top of yours. "I'm so fucking sorry. You should never, ever, feel as if I don't love you. As if I won't fucking climb Mount Everest naked for you. As if I wouldn't give everything I am to be the one privileged enough to spend the rest of my life beside you.

"You are so important," he said. "You are so important. To me, to the members, to your family. To my family. To every single fucking person you've ever met. You are worth so much more than I could ever give. But I will spend the rest of my life giving, giving you my love and adoration."

You nodded against his chest. The two of you stood there in the dim light of your living room, arms wrapped around one another. Seungcheol sighed, squeezing you.

"I will send you texts every fucking minute of every hour," he vowed, as if such a thing could mend your broken heart and erase the past hour of tears. "I'll send every bird, dog, cat, mouse -- everything. I'll make you show up to every after-practice dinner. I'll drag you out of the apartment in pajamas if I have to. I'll wake up bright and early and make you a gourmet breakfast."

"No, you won't."

Seungcheol laughed weakly. "You're right. I can try, though." "I'll appreciate whatever you give me," you murmured into his clothes, voice still small and weak from crying. "Even a bowl of cereal."

But you didn't deserve a bowl of cereal, Seungcheol thought. You didn't deserve a text every minute, didn't deserve a picture of every fucking animal on Earth. You didn't deserve dinners after midnight, didn't deserve omelets or bacon or sausage.

You deserved the world.

And Seungcheol would spend the rest of his life giving it to you.

#svthub #svt angst #svt fic #svt oneshot #scoups angst #scoups fic #scoups oneshot #s.coups angst #s.coups fic #s.coups oneshot #my writing #choi seungcheol #scoups #s.coups

[starcrossedxwriter]

Date Night (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: it's just our favs being horny as hell lol NSFW

A/N: Fluff was requested because of what I put y'all through in Part 9 lmaoooo so here you go! Enjoyyyyyyy!

“What do you think?” Charlotte spun around in her third outfit of the night. She did a couple fake model poses as if she were in front of a photographer. 

Michael glanced up from his cell phone, a whistle escaping his lips. He was already dressed, a graphic tee, black jeans, jacket and boots. He had been ready for the last 30 minutes. His girlfriend, however, had brought half her closet to his house and between those clothes and the ones she kept there, she still could not decide on an outfit.

“Sexy as fuck… just like the last two outfits. We gotta go soon if we actually want to make the game.” 

She turned in the mirror, ignoring his urges to hurry. “None of these are good. I dunno. I think this makes me look a little pudgy. These jeans barely fit anymore. Look at my legs… short and stubby… And my waist is huge.” She gestured down at her body, which had gotten a bit thicker since Michael first met her. But unlike Charlotte, he loved it. Relationship weight, happy weight, looked damn good on her. 

“I like it, your body looks great. Just gives me something good to grip when I’m fuckin’ you from the back.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him, “You are so vulgar for no reason,” she laughed. “Ugh.” She stepped out of her jeans and threw the sweater onto the bed. 

“And you won’t be saying that when I get fat… then you won’t be attracted to me anymore and you’ll be dragging me to the gym with you,” she mumbled as she walked into his massive closet and went to her side. Michael had cleared out a nice section for her to keep clothes there, making it far easier for her to stay as many nights as she wanted without having to pack a new bag. “It’s just our first date at a public event since the premiere. I wanna look nice.” 

“That’ll literally never happen. You’re sexy at any size and every outfit you’ve put on since you started getting dressed an hour ago. But if you need help choosing,” he jumped off the bed and jogged to her side, pulling out a black mini dress she had in the closet. “This dress with those thigh high boots, andddd,” he jumped off the bed and jogged to his side of the closet before pulling out a dusty rose colored bomber jacket that matched one of the many colors in his t-shirt. “This. I bought it during filming so it’ll be oversized.” 

She raised her eyebrow before stepping into the fourth outfit. Even she could not deny that she looked damn good. The dress accentuated her shape and curves, the boots made her legs look longer, and the jacket pulled the whole look together. It was clearly a men’s jacket, which she knew would turn a head or two, but its oversized nature made her look chic and cozy. And their coordination was just subtle enough that it wouldn’t look like they tried too hard.

“What do you think?”  

“You look better in that jacket than I did,” he remarked as she stood in front of the mirror. “Sexy and sleek. Comfy and will look good in photos court side.” 

“Look at you. A secret stylist too?? I might have to keep you around, Mr. Jordan,” she mused, her hands working to put on her earrings. with a playful smile as he grabbed her hips and watched her.

“That’s the plan, beautiful. You know what would look good with that dress?” 

“Hmm? More of your clothes?” 

Michael produced a thin Tiffany blue box, a perfectly tied white ribbon and bow surrounding it. 

“What’s this?” Charlotte moaned pitifully, her heart soaring at his thoughtfulness. “It’s not my birthday o-or Christmas or anything.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need a special day to give you a gift. I just saw it and thought you’d like it.”

You couldn’t have wiped the smile off of her face as she opened the delicate box to reveal a rose gold necklace. The diamond pendant set at the center was large and beautiful but the whole piece still had a certain understated quality about it. It was not gaudy and loud but it still drew your eye like moths to flames. She was surprised at how well he knew her style. She was not even a big jewelry wearer on an everyday basis but it fit the simplistic vibe of the jewelry she did own and was subtle enough that she did not need a special occasion to put it on. 

“Bakari,” she took a sharp breath. “I-It’s beautiful. Bu-” 

He immediately shook his head. He was still trying to get Charlotte to accept him spoiling her without questions. “No buts. You like it?” 

“I l-love it. It’s amazing and so timeless. It’s perfect.” 

“That’s all I need to hear. Turn around for me.” She turned to face the mirror again, her eyes trained on his hands as he placed it around her neck and fastened it for her. 

Her hand immediately went to caress the pendant, studying the most expensive piece of jewelry she had ever had in her possession. 

“It’s…” she was at a loss for words as she looked at herself. 

Michael pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck before he let her curls fall back into place. “Perfect.” 

She turned back to face him, his hand adjusting the piece on her chest. 

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” 

His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment, her breath hiking slightly. She leaned in and kissed him, the pair’s lips and hands exploring each other as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed. 

“W-what about the g-game?” She asked in a teasing tone as he tossed her down. “Weren’t you j-just rushing me about being late?” 

He smirked at her as he hooked his hands on the fabric on her thong and pulled it to her knees. 

“You want me to stop?” 

Cocky mother fucker, she thought to herself. He knew exactly what she wanted him to do. Feast on her, love on her, send her to other dimensions. However, she merely gave him a noncommittal shrug that she knew would rile him up, pretending she did not care if their quickie continued or ended. 

“Oh really? Aight, ma,” he muttered as he dove between her legs. 

Charlotte’s thighs clamped around his head as he slid two fingers into her pussy, which was already dripping with need. 

“F-fuck!” She cried out as he curled his fingers into her g-spot, his tongue spelling out his name against her clit. He pulled out every trick he knew, every action he knew turned her into a blubbering weeping mess. And it was not his usual slow build, he hit the gas pedal hard, going 0 to 100 in seconds. “J-just like that… fuck. I l-love it.” 

However, Michael was, too, in a teasing sort of mood. The moment he noticed her telltale signs of cumming, he slowed down, stealing her orgasm from her. The first time, she merely groaned, realizing his game fairly quickly. An expletive or two might’ve slipped, her words calling him a few colorful names. But she refused to back down. She knew what he wanted and she was convinced she would not cave. 

However, what she did not account for was how much stronger the sensations would feel every time he restarted. Each flick of his tongue and stroke of his finger felt amplified by 10. She bit down on her lip to keep the pleas from falling from the tip of her tongue. 

She knew when he finally let her cum, it would be heavenly but the build up was nothing short of torture. Glorious torture… the type she would gladly sign up for again and again but torture nonetheless. However, when he stole her orgasm from her the third time, all that ego and pride flew out the window. 

“B-Baby, p-please,” she begged as he brought her to the edge and slowed for the third time. Tears started to spring to her eyes as he detached his lips from her clit. 

“You want me to stop?” He asked again as his hands continued fucking her, slow and deliberate, this time knowing exactly what the answer would be. She rocked her hips to meet every thrust, her mind wishing she would will him to speed up, add another finger, or fuck her harder. However, it wasn’t enough. She knew she would have to give in. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“N-No. D-don’t stop… P-please don’t stop,” she begged, a loud sigh of relief escaping her as he devoured her clit once again. And this time, he did not stop. 

Her hands gripped the comforter on his bed, the fabric bunching up in her hands as he finally took her all the way to her peak. He was a God carrying her to Mt. Olympus and she wished she could stay in that moment forever. 

A gentle tap to her thigh brought her back to Earth and reminded her to release him from the confines of her thighs. 

“S-sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head as he leaned over her lucid body and kissed her. “That’d be my preferred way to die, if you were wondering.” 

“Noted.” His hands grabbed her arms and helped pull her up so she could stand. 

“You ready?” 

Her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell. She assumed the game was a thing of the past. “You still expect me to go to the game after that??” She gestured toward the bed.

“Yes, and there’s more of that when we get back.” 

She wiggled her eyebrows. She did not much care about this basketball game but she most certainly liked the sound of that. 

***

Charlotte stayed close to Michael as he weaved them through the crowded stadium. She had never been to a basketball game in person but she had certainly never expected to go to one like this. Security escorted them through back doors and hallways directly to their seats, they did not even get to see the stadium. She had to keep reminding herself that while the perks of fame were new to her, they wasn’t to her boyfriend. 

She appreciated that Michael could tell she was a bit overwhelmed. Their hands stayed interlocked, his body close to hers as security directed them. She did not think his sexiness could increase in her eyes but in this light, it did. He was a true Hollywood star. It radiated off him, seas parted as he walked, she watched as he drew the eye of almost every woman they passed by. And it was effortless for him. 

By the time they reached their seats, Charlotte was so taken and turned on by his energy that she did not really care to watch the game at all. She wanted to drag him back to his place and finish what they started before they left. 

She tried to resist it, resist the way lust always curled in her belly at his smirks and playful glances her way and his touch. Fuck… his hands. Even the most mundane, chaste of touches sent jolts of pleasure and longing through her body that made her want to rip his clothes off. She was just overwhelmed at times by her lust for him. It seemed to never end and was never satiated. But thankfully, she knew it was not one-sided. He seemed just as smitten and taken by her, just as turned on by the simplest of tasks, looks, and touches. 

However, one downside of fame was that she had to, at least, appear as though she was not fucking him with her eyes every five seconds. She knew they’d be on camera throughout the night, which meant a level of decorum was required of them both. However, in this honeymoon stage of their relationship where lust and longing were at their peak, decorum was a feat in and of itself. 

“This your first Lakers game, right?” 

“My first NBA game at all, any team. Another first for you to collect. I’m excited. Don’t really understand it though…” 

“Well good thing you got an expert with you.” 

She nodded and pecked him on the lips. “Good thing I do.” 

Charlotte’s body leaned into his as they settled into the game, one of his arms on the back of her seat while the other rested across her thighs. His hand gripped the meat of her outer thigh and rubbed the soft exposed skin throughout the game. Every so often, he’d lean over and whisper facts or explain things in her ear, his basketball and Lakers knowledge appeared limitless. 

She settled back and watched the game and watched Michael and Kevin Hart who sat next to her. They were both thoroughly invested in the game in a way Charlotte was not but found more entertaining to watch than the game itself. They were hilarious and animated, acting as if they were coaches on the sideline instead of spectators. But she imagined it felt that way to them watching from their seats, up close and personal.

Michael’s tutorials throughout the game did not stick, Charlotte too taken by his voice and the discreet but sensual touches on her thigh to retain any of the information coming out of his mouth. By the time halftime started, she realized she had little to no idea what was even happening in front of her as her mind had floated away thinking about the bliss that awaited her when she and Michael finally got home. 

They both started chatting and joking around with Kevin Hart and his date as halftime progressed, their conversation cut short by cheering throughout the crowd. The two couples glanced up to find the Kiss Cam on the Jumbotron. It caught a few unsuspecting couples, each one playing along and offering a very cute but conservative kiss for the cameras. 

“Awwww… they’re really cute,” Charlotte whispered to Michael, pointing at one elderly couple.

However, she was shocked to look up again and find the camera suddenly on them, the Jumbotron already having their names across the bottom of the screen.

Michael leaned in and whispered, “What do you say we give ‘em a show?” 

She pretended to contemplate as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to kiss him, which made him scrunch his face up in faux offense. She laughed and gave him a quick peck before the announcer called out their chaste kiss. 

“You two can do better than that!” 

Michael’s finger went to her chin, lifting her gaze to his, before he grinned and pressed his lips against hers. It was sensual and slow but still tamed as he knew the entire stadium watched. However, she savored the few seconds it lasted. His lips lingered against hers for a moment, such a featherlike touch that let her know he was exercising extreme control and restraint. 

Her legs tightened together as they pulled away, offering a polite wave to the crowd before the camera moved on to spotlight another couple. 

“What’d you say we get outta here before the fourth quarter?” He whispered in her ear, his intentions clear with every word. 

“I’d say even that’s too long but I’ll manage.” 

“Y’all two are nasty,” Kevin remarked, teasing the couple, which caused both of them to turn their heads in embarrassment. “Been a couple in public for 10 minutes and don’t know how to act. Get some couth about you, damn.” 

What came next were the longest 12 minutes of Charlotte’s life. Followed by the longest car ride of her life and the longest walk into Michael’s house. By the time they entered, they did not even make it to his bedroom. They just stumbled into his kitchen, their limbs moving on pure muscle memory through his dark house and into the kitchen. As soon as his hand met the counter, he hoisted her up and got on his knees between her legs.

However, before he could hook one leg over his shoulder to continue worshiping her, she sat up. 

“No,” she shook her head, pulling his face to hers. “I don’t want that. I want to taste you.”

He stood up, allowing her to fall to her knees below him, licking her lips as she unbuckled his jeans. She had been dreaming about this for the last hour. It had taken her a few days to get over her own hangups about giving head. She was good at it but it was a chore to her. Now she laughed at how nervous she had been the first time, surprised that Michael laid back and gave her complete control. Control over his pleasure and the pace. Since then, she found the act made her feel powerful and sexy. She had control, his pleasure at her mercy, and she loved every second of it. And she could tell he did too. It was far from a chore to her now, it was something she looked forward to and craved almost as much as Michael did.

She started off slow, the tip of her tongue lightly licking the underside of his dick. She basked in every moment of it as if he was the best lollipop she had ever tasted in her life. She gathered all the moisture in her mouth and spit on his dick, her spit sliding down his shaft. She slid her lips over the head, just taking the tip of him and sucking lightly as her hand massaged him, spreading her spit along his length. She could feel him twitch beneath her, a groan escaping his lips. 

“Don’t tease me, baby.” 

“Not enjoying a taste of your own medicine?” She asked, reminding him of his little game earlier that almost had her weeping for release. 

He chuckled, nodding. “Aight. But when you don’t get a break later, I don’t wanna hear shit.” 

“I think you’re underestimating how much I like a challenge, baby.” 

She grinned before enveloping his length into her warm, wet mouth. Though she wished she could tease him, the reality was… she lacked his patience. She wanted to feel him cum and not even proving a point would stop her. She kept her eyes trained on him, loving his facial expressions as she sucked him. His eyes were the most expressive, windows into his soul. And when she was on her knees beneath him, she saw it all: desire, bliss, pleasure, pride, and love.

Her eyes watered as she worked to accommodate him, light and lewd gagging noises filled his kitchen. She was thankful for weekends like this when his parents went back to New Jersey because they could utilize the many surfaces and rooms throughout his house with no fears of interruptions. Lazy sex on the couch while watching a movie? Say less. A quickie bent over the counter while they cooked dinner? More of that, please. 

“You take me so well,” he moaned, his hand twisted in her curls. As much as he wanted to take the reigns and fuck her throat, he restrained himself, allowing her to maintain the pace and control she wanted. “You like sucking this dick?”

He could tell she lit up at his praise, a moan vibrating around him as she nodded.

“You look so fuckin’ sexy… that’s right, Els. Take all this dick, baby.” 

He panted lightly as Charlotte increased her efforts. Her gagging and slurping sounded filthy as it grew louder and louder as she sucked him, sneaking gasps of air every chance she got. 

“I’m g-gonna cum,” he warned her, Charlotte increasing the intensity for a few moments until she felt him bust down her throat. He held her head against him for a moment as she swallowed before releasing her, both of them panting for a moment. However, he did not give her much time for a break. 

He did not even give her a chance to strip down before he helped her to her feet and pushed her, face down, onto the counter. She hissed as her bare arms came in contact with the cold granite, thankful she still had her dress on though it was now bunched around her waist. He did not even take her thong off this time, he just pushed it to the side.

She moaned as he filled her, his nails digging into the skin of her hips. There was nothing slow and sensual about it. This was pure fucking. Fast. Rough. Uninhibited. Their bodies were the other’s drug and they were in an outright chase to get their fix of each other.

She used her forearms as leverage to throw her ass back to meet every thrust, not allowing him to do all of the work and proving she still had some stamina to play with. However, Michael would never be outdone so he lifted one of her legs and pressed it against the counter. 

Charlotte let out a gasp at the position, the stretch of her hips and how deep she could feel every stroke. All she could do was pant and beg for more as he fucked her fast and deep, her one leg almost giving out beneath her as she came around him. But his grip and strength kept her standing as always. 

“I’m cl-close, baby. You want me to cum in this pussy??” 

Lost in the clouds of lust and desire, Charlotte did not quite calculate the long term implications of that statement. She could only think minutes ahead and she wanted to feel him fill her.

“Y-Yes,” she moaned. 

She let out a content sigh as she felt him fill her, warmth spreading inside her. Her arms collapsed beneath her for a moment as Michael leaned against the counter opposite of her, his eyes never leaving her ass, which was still perched high in the air for him. 

As the haze left them both, realization seemed to hit them both like a train. 

“You took your birth control today, right?” He asked, scratching his head as Charlotte immediately busted out laughing. 

“You know, I feel like it would’ve been smarter to ask that before you came inside me?” She joked, pushing her dress back down her thighs and adjusting her underwear. “But yes, I took it. We,” her voice dragged out the word as she contemplated before deciding it was better to be safe than sorry. “Should still probably pick up some Plan B though… unless you want an oops baby?” 

He let out a belly laugh. “If I’m gonna have an oops baby, I’d want it to be with you.” He kissed her on the cheek. 

“Awwww,” her lips twisted into a little pout. “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She kissed him. “But we are definitely going to get the Plan B,” she whispered against his lips. “Can’t have your mom and the rest of the world thinking I’m a whore trying to trap you. Put on your shoes.” 

He groaned, his body exhausted, “We gotta go right now?? Isn’t it a ‘morning after’ pill? Like it’s still gonna be effective in the morning right?” 

She nodded, teetering on her heels. “Yes,” she admitted. “But… I’m starvinggggg. So on the way back from the drug store, we’d already be out and we could stop by… In & Out Burger?” 

“I can’t eat that stuff… my diet remember, babe?” 

“Come onnnnnn… one cheat meal for me?? We just put in serious work just now, Bakari. We earned a few extra calories.” 

He laughed, knowing his trainer would not accept such flawed logic. “Fine but when Calliet gets on my ass tomorrow, you’ll owe me.” 

“Deal.” She pulled him in flush to her body. She nippled lightly on his ear, teasing his favorite spot for a moment before whispering. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you a massage.” 

“I dunno if that’s gonna be enough.” 

She offered him a sly smirk. “Well, I’m sure I can get creative about how to make these calories worth it.”  

He nodded and grabbed his car keys. “Come on. I already got some ideas I can tell you in the car.” 

Tag list: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: I hope this helps ease the pain! And I'll go ahead and write some fluff to accompany part 10 cause y'all are just gonna hate me again lmaooooo

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

#black writers #michael b jordan x oc #michael b jordan #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #adonis creed #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

[lanawinterscigarettes]

requesting fluff with dhawan!master x their gn! companion

I tried to make this extra cute and fluffy because I'm such a sucker for those kinds of things (also shout out to my bestest bud @your-next-daydream for helping me come up with this corny ass pun of a title. I love you sm <3)

The One Who Rocks My World (Dhawan! Master x reader)

Warnings: soft! Master (he might be slightly ooc due to a part in this where he gets a little emotional), teeny weeny bit of hurt/comfort, but mostly just lots and lots of fluff

"Ooh, let's go there!" You said in excitement, pointing at a random alien marketplace that popped up on one of the TARDIS console's many screens.

The Master merely sighed, knowing you wouldn't stop pestering him until you got what you wanted. He usually wasn't a fan of random, one off trips (he wasn't The Doctor) but something about you always made it so hard for him to say no.

"Fine, but we're staying for no longer than two hours, three tops. And I'm not buying you anything there." He said sternly, glancing up at you while he punched in the coordinates. "Do you understand?"

You simply squealed happily in response, clapping your hands together. "Yay! I knew you'd say yes!"

Less than twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the marketplace. You'd grabbed The Master by the hand and were already starting to drag him towards it before the TARDIS had even landed properly.

"Slow down, the market's not going anywhere in the ten minutes it'll take us to get there," he grumbled, though he made no real attempt to stop you, something he could very well do if he so pleased.

He lingered a little behind you, following you around from vendor to vendor as you oohed and awed over the different wares being sold.

"Remember, I'm not buying you anything, so don't pick anything up if you don't have the money to pay for it," he called after you, watching as you picked up a piece of fabric that was similar to a scarf.

You frowned slightly before putting it back down, knowing full well that even if you did have the money, you most likely wouldn't know how much to give them, and you had no interest in being scammed by some random alien seller, again.

The Master shook his head at your antics, smiling softly to himself. As irritating as you could be sometimes, he did have to admit he found it to be pretty endearing.

He turned to say something else to you before realizing you'd run off again, though to where he wasn't entirely sure. He was about to start tearing apart the entire marketplace looking for you before you suddenly popped up again, this time holding something in your hands.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to figure out what you had. "What's that in your hands?"

"Oh, I found it on the ground over there!" You said while pointing to a beachy area that was littered with small, multicolored stones. "It's for you."

He looked at you in confusion as he took the stone, not quite sure what to say. "What is this?"

"It's a rock." You stated plainly, doing nothing to actually answer his question.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." He did his best to supress an eye roll. "I mean, why are you giving it to me?"

"Well, because I care about you," you stated as though it should've been obvious. "And you give gifts to people you care about."

That made sense, he supposed, though The Master never really did view himself as someone other people would care for. But, still. A rock?

"Why a rock?" He asked curiously, turning it over in his hands.

"Because it's purple," you simply replied, an unwavering smile on your face. "And you wear purple a lot, so I figured it must be one of your favorite colors. Plus, it reminded me of you."

Your words made him want to cry. You thought about him enough that you were reminded of him in even the smallest of things?

"It's- it's very nice," he choked out, blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears.

You frowned slightly, your forehead creasing in concern. "Aw, don't cry." You immediately wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a comforting hug.

He wasn't nearly as stiff as he was the first few times you showed him physical affection, but he was obviously still a little awkward about it, holding his arms out to the side while you hugged him.

He glanced yet again at the rock in his hand, watching as the mixture of colors shined brightly in the sun, like his very own kaleidoscope.

The purple color of the stone made him smile, and he very slowly did his best to hug you back properly, not missing the way you seemed to hold on for a bit longer after that.

If this was always what happened when you went on trips together, then he'd have to make sure to plan them more often.

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🏷 taglist: @theonetruepotato87

#gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #doctor who #doctor who imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fluff #the master #the master imagines #the master imagine #the master x reader #the master fic #the master fluff #dhawan!master #dhawan!master imagines #dhawan!master imagine #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master fic #dhawan!master fluff #dhawan master #dhawan master imagines #dhawan master imagine #dhawan master x reader #dhawan master fic #dhawan master fluff

[starscelly]

what do i have to do to make non starsblr ppl understand the importance of roope and miro's relationship. like i work so hard to spread the good word.

they actively have matching 8x8.45 contracts. which is the most insane thing you can do with a beloved teammate

they played for the HIFK together for a season before miro even got drafted. roope only got moved there AFTER he was already drafted to the stars. so there was an overlap of time there together pre-star miro and post-star roope. they didnt even Know

julia (miro's long term girlfriend) once commented on roope's instagram "@/miroheiskanen, you can date him and i'll take his girl". and then miro Liked The Comment.

they took their rookie laps Together. Because They Played Their First NHL Game on the Same Night.

they were also road roomies their rookie year. which. you Know.

they often do events or just generally hang out over the summer. so it's less than during the season obviously but its Year Round from them. no breaks.

when miro got drafted to the notoriously finnish nhl team he was asked if he tried to talk to any of the finns already there and was like. well obviously roope i know him so good. but nobody else (:

roope. and i cannot stress this enough. takes miro clothes shopping. that is a real thing!

possibly less of a real thing but very often they ARE color coordinated. so..

the stars had to tweet a picture with them with the caption "they're not holding hands." like maybe they should stand farther apart then

miro compliments roope's defensive capabilities and roope compliments miro's offensive capabilities. Okay.

have you seen roope try to look miro in the face without pulling out the fondest look. he's never succeeded. this is well documented.

overlooked because it's not towards the back/front but miro always goes out right before roope when getting on the ice. girl they're in each others rituals.

and many more i am sure i'm forgetting ...

#like baby this is just off the top of my head #someone... someone out there please care... #Theres a Web Weave About This. Wonder Who Made It #424 #yap yap yapping #i didn’t tag this with their names initially but this is actually. a good source of info for those unaware #so #miro heiskanen #roope hintz

[gottagetback2u]

✰ stray kids doing ur makeup!

warnings: some lighthearted jokes, emojis used, cursing. established relationships! don’t wish for too much with these boys. inconsistent use of correct spelling.

my bestie gave me this prompt when we were texting 🤭 hope u guys enjoyy

-✰ chan

he’s so giggly with it the entire time. u ask him and he’s like “u want me to? 😀” he asks u in between laughs “is this product right?” and when u don’t help him, he gets whiny bc he at least wants to make ur makeup look good!

-✰ minho

a menace most times, but a soft expression appears on his face when u ask him. he gets that lazy, soft smirk, his eyes squinty with an obvious twinkle in them. somehow, instead of purposefully messing up, he tries his best, actually doing a good job! (he secretly memorized the order of ur products from watching u get ready <3)

-✰ changbin

“awwwww~ u want binnie to do ur makeup huh?? u want ur sweet cute talented bf to do it?” kick him out. take it back 😭 but honestly, he wouldn’t do terrible… he’s just not very coordinated with his hands. application of foundation and blush are so patchy. PLEASE DONT LET HIM NEAR UR EYES

-✰ hyunjin

he wants to be good. like i have said, he loves that aesthetically pleasing, pinterest type relationship shit. once u tell him how to blend, he gets pretty good. downside, doesn’t want to do anything except foundation, concealer and blush. says he’ll “mess it up” 😑

-✰ han

no mirrors involved. he’s gonna, quote on quote, “blow ur mind”. ends up using every single product, continuously confused about which each of them are. not like he gets his makeup done every single day 🤨

-✰ felix

u would expect him to be the best… surprise, he also has no hand coordination!!! he might build pcs, but that has nothing on makeup application. does powders before foundations, wants to do ur eyeshadow, and if he doesn’t like a color he will just cover it up with another one. help him.

-✰ seungmin

okay… hear me out… he’s actually really good at eyeliner. but that’s all he’s good at LMAOO. u tell him that u do ur eye makeup first, and he spends 45 minutes doing the wings, always reaching back with a q-tip to fix it. once he’s done tho, he tells u it’s too hard 😐 this lil bitch

-✰ jeongin

gets all shy and blushy. he feels like this is the boyfriend duty out of boyfriend duties. bUt, once he starts, he realizes how hard it is and starts to mess around. “ya! i don’t care if it’s wrong! u asked for this-“

masterlist!

taglist: @strawberrimarchi

#sapphire’s log~ #🎧 #stray kids #stray kids soft thoughts #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #yang jeongin #skz #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz headcanons

[thebest-medicine]

Lustige Geschichten

..a Crit-mas Story for @amazingmsme for Squealing Santa 2k23!!

A/N: Happy Holidays, Merry Chrysler, and Happy Critmas to the amazing @amazingmsme!!!!!! I absolutely loved all your prompts so I tried to combine a few, I hope you enjoy this lovely holiday gift! 💚 (and shout-out to @hypahticklish for organizing and coordinating and presiding over this year’s @squealing-santa)

Critical Role - Mighty Nein - ticklish!Caleb, featuring an assortment of very mean, lovely friends (most of the Nein)

[AO3 Link]

Words: 6.8k

Summary: Jester enjoys a nice story time, and Caleb, despite himself, has a fun evening under the persistent affection of his friends. Errrrybody hops on the tickle-the-wizard-out-of-his-keen-mind train. 

...

Caleb stretches his back a bit uncomfortably as he shifts in the wooden chair, having spent the last few hours in more or less the same spot —posture curled forward around the desk.

A cheerful, curious little ‘murrp’ catches his ear. He glances over to find one of the tower cats, Rudi, strolling toward him. 

“Mm, guten Abend, Rudi.”

Rudi trots over and rubs up against his legs. His whiskers tickle at Caleb’s ankle. 

He smiles, eyes still on his book. 

The light, fluffy feeling trails away a few moments later when Rudi pads over to the nearby sofa in the study outside Caleb’s bedroom. Rudi circles a few times before plopping himself down comfortably on a cushion. He ‘mrrow’s and chirrups a few times, tail flicking impatiently as he looks over at the wizard. 

“You know, if you wanted some attention you could go find Jester, you know how she loves to cuddle with you at night.” 

Rudi meows and rolls over, rubbing his head into the couch cushions. 

A few more minutes pass, not without an array of ‘meow’s calling to him, inviting him over. 

Caleb exhales, blowing a loose wisp of hair out of his face. “Mmm. You are making it rather hard to concentrate.” 

Rudi responds in kind with a trill, rolling back onto his belly. He stretches, then flops onto his other side again in a move to beckon the wizard over to the soft cushions next to him on the couch. He purrs loudly, and then lets out another trilling meow, looking expectantly at Caleb.

“Very well then.” Caleb sighs. “But I’m bringing my book.” 

Rudi wiggles, baring his belly as Caleb sits down, a fair bit more comfortable than the wooden chair. Caleb holds up his book in one hand and pats Rudi with the other. He still often denies himself comfort and kindness out of habit — but, it can be nice to be pushed into it by friends (and cats) around you.

“Thank you for the company.” Rudi’s resonating purr sends a wave of calm through Caleb where the cat is pressed up to his hand and thigh. 

“Hiiiii. You guys look cozy. Room for one more?” With a colorful blur and twirl around the corner into the doorway, Jester arrives on the scene, a cheerful smile apparent in her voice as she says. “Hey, Caleb.” 

Caleb hums in acknowledgement, turning the page in his book. “Hallo, Jester.” He says it without looking up, a dusting of pink on his cheeks at his unexpected guest.

In a few strides, the blue figure in his peripheral gets closer until he feels the couch dip next to him on the opposite side of where Rudi is curled up. “What are you reading?” 

“A book.” 

Jester harrumphs, shouldering against him with a pout. “A book about what?”

Caleb fights off a smile. He is already thoroughly distracted —so he’s made peace with ending his studies early. 

He pretends to turn the page and continue reading, and Jester lets out a whine in a pitch befitting Sprinkle. 

He lets her fester a few moments longer before he answers, failing to fully fight off his smile. “Just some texts on Pre-Calamity Exandria I borrowed from Essek’s library— well, it delves into some history as well as specifics on the spells and magic of the time, the ideas behind it, and the history of uses within various schools of the arcane.”

“Oh..” She scrunches up her nose. “I wanted to see if I could read with you. But that sounds pret-ty bo-ring.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

Jester’s tail lashes side to side, impatient and bored —two qualities that, when found in her, tend to lead to an afternoon of mischief. 

She sighs dramatically, leans her head on Caleb’s shoulder to look at the book.

Caleb hums again, turning the page.

“If I find you something more… fun to read… would you read it to me and Rudi?” She asks a few beats later.

Caleb’s eyes flick sideways to her, a soft smile on his lips. “Ja, sure, of course.” He turns the page. “None of your smut, though.” He adds, fighting down a smirk.

She sticks out her tongue, and he has the good graces not to call her on it. 

Getting up and roaming about his bookshelves, she begins. “Okay, okay. What’s a good one— ummm.. Let me look!” 

Caleb marks the page in his text as Jester fingers through his books. 

“Oh how about this one! Look at this guy, he’s so scary!” She makes a face, holding up the book. There’s a tall figure with wild, wiry, mad-scientist looking hair sprouting in every direction from his head — his face outstretched in a foul scream. His fingernails are longer than his hands themselves, and scatter, crooked, every which way from his hands. 

“Ah, that’s a Zemnian children’s classic.” Caleb sits fully upright on the couch, closing his book. 

Jester laughs out loud at that. “This is for kids?”

He sets his book down on the table beside him. “Ja. Der Struwwelpeter.”

Jester bounds over with a giggle, repeating the title in a silly imitation of Caleb’s accent. She plops down and quickly snuggles into the corner of the couch, then turns to Caleb, making grabby hands in his direction. 

His cheeks flush a little — as they always do in the face of such open affections — as he leans to sit closer to her on the couch. It’s not a moment before he feels her arm loop around his shoulders. 

“Oh— hi, ok.” Caleb lets out a nervous little laugh as she draws him closer. Rudi stands with a stretch.

“I wanna see the pictures- here, like this!” 

She shifts him, which he allows with a tired smile, until she’s laying against the arm of the couch and he is dragged back against her, back to chest, his legs over hers up on the couch cushions. Her head comes to rest gently on the mop of his orange hair.

“Perfect! Are you comfy?” Jester asks brightly.

Caleb snorts a little, settling in to his new position practically lying down on the couch. He pretends to be a bit put out, but sighs and stretches one leg out and it bumps into the other arm of the couch. He puts one ankle up on the arm and bends the other leg at the knee, getting comfortable. Rudi find himself a comfortable spot across Caleb’s thighs and plops down, continuing to purr.

“Alright, well let’s see,” he brushes off the cover. “‘Der Struwwelpeter, oder lustige Geschichten und drollige Bilder von Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann’ — this book is a compilation of funny children’s tales and illustrations.” He explains. 

“Which word means ‘funny’?” 

“It’s this word here, ‘lustig’.” Caleb points to the cover.

“Lustige,” she reads and then laughs.

He reads each of the two first pages in their original form, a cadence coming to his lips at the familiar text. She doesn’t understand what the words all mean, but it still sounds lovely, like an old song from far away. 

Then, the story putters to a stop as he pauses to explain to her what it says. 

He continues this way, reading, explaining, reading, explaining, holding up the book so Jester can look more closely at the pictures, scrutinizing.

A few pages deep, when he finishes the Zemnian, she suggests. “Hm.. When you tell me what it says… Can you do it in a silly voice?”

“Um-” Caleb is a master of changing many things, but his accent is not one of them. He laughs again, a little sheepish. “Okay…” 

He clears his throat and then —in a terrible, silly imitation of Jester— he explains what the passage says in Common. 

Jester laughs in delight and follows along. 

She ooh’s and ahh’s as Caleb reads each of the next pages in Zemnian and then explains what it says in his decidedly silly voice. 

Jester lets out a gasp at the next turn of the page. “Oohhhh my gosh, Caleb, it’s the guy from the front, look at his nails.” She grins, observing the full page of artwork depicting a large child —or, maybe, a small man— with wild hair that looked like it had just taken a bit too much lightning damage, and with fingernails grown out much longer than his fingers. They stretch wildly across the page. 

Caleb huffs out a little laugh. “Mmhm.”

And then, because she is Jester, she continues.  “Don’t you think they would be..” She brings her own nails up to trace gently along the shell of his ears. “Reaaaaally tickly?” 

A shiver runs down his spine. “Heh- ja, yes.” Caleb shakes his head a little, brushing off the flutter in his chest and flare of embarrassment. He takes one of his hands off of the book to swat at her hands. “You would love them, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I really would…” She smiles and wiggles a bit. “I would use them for so many pranks.. ooh and tickle fights. Oh, I would win every time.” 

Caleb’s hand has successfully deterred her fingers from his neck. 

But, he notes with a shiver, she just reaches down to pinch at his sides a few times instead. 

He squirms, readjusting. “You don’t need any extra help. You already do.” His elbows don’t quite clamp down to his sides, but come down enough to gently push her teasing fingers away. 

Caleb feels the energy of the evening beginning to shift. There’s something flittering about inside him at that, but he presses on with the task, and the conversation, at hand. 

But, a few more pokes and Caleb’s arms press down harder on instinct. “Jester— the book..” He reminds her, voice light with almost-laughter. 

The cat shifts in his lap, giving Caleb a look that perhaps on a human would look annoyed.

Jester pulls her hands away from his sides, but quickly redoubles her efforts back up on the side of his neck, quick and gentle. “Mmm. Right, right. Tell me more about ‘dar Schtruvvelpater’.”

“Hey- ehe- hey.” He snorts again, scrunching his neck. “Would you stop it— I-I’m trying to read to you.” His voice is light, fluttering, and it cracks with a laugh around the words —it all comes out a little more high pitched than he intended.

Jester lets out a whine, clearly wanting to continue both. “You can keep reading!” She giggles, pinching down his shoulders and around to the backs of his armpits.

“But—” He pleads, but then Jester’s hands are down around the bottoms of his ribs again. “Ah! Je- Jester I can’t—” He chokes out, snickering and wobbling back and forth between her pokes on either side of his rib cage. His elbows squeeze against his sides, trying in vain to protect himself while maintaining his hold on the novel.

Rudi yowls at them, indignant, and turns to plop up onto the back of the couch, curling up in the middle.

“Oh sorry Rudi!” She chuckles. “But, seriously Caleb—it’s fine, I don’t mind if you laugh!” Jester adds, and wiggles her fingers around and over his stomach. 

Laugh he does, pressing the book against his middle in a poor attempt at defense. His arms do their best to attempt to cover a few of his weak spots, but Jester doesn’t seem to mind the obstacle, easily finding others. She tuts at him and crawls her hands back up his sides. 

Jester’s fingers work their way up and then jump to his neck again. Caleb clings to the book for dear life, pulling it up to cover his face as he fights a continuous, losing battle with the giggles that Jester is keen to draw out of him. 

“Wait— hehe wait I- heh- I thought you wanted— aha- ah— y-you wanted me to read to you!” Laughter cracks through every word, climbing to the surface like weeds sprouting forth between the bricks of a worn path.

“Well I did—I do, but now—” She shifts her legs, wiggling to get them out from underneath Caleb and then wrapping them around his middle to block him in against her chest and the couch. “I thought of something else I wanna listen to.” 

Caleb cackles when Jester scribbles, unexpected and intently, over his lowest ribs. “Sch-scheiße! Oh noho- ahaHA NAHA-NEIN JESTER!” He nearly squirms out of her grasp, giggling and chasing her hands with his elbows —but, he’s no match for her leg muscles —plus, he’s still trying to hold onto the book. 

He just about jumps out of his skin when he suddenly picks up a green figure in his field of vision —Fjord, who somehow made it halfway across the room without Caleb’s notice. Shit.

Blushing further, the wizard closes his eyes and tries to hide his face between Jester’s shoulder and the couch. “No— don’t!” Caleb squeals between laughs as Fjord approaches.

“What are you two doing in here, hmm?” Fjord asks casually. 

Caleb shivers, envisioning the grin on his face. He sucks in a breath and clamps his mouth shut, convinced that maybe he can avoid getting someone else involved if he holds it together—if he just doesn’t laugh again for the next few seconds.

“He’s reading me a story!” Jester responds, chipper. 

“Oh, that sounds nice.” And then, closer. “Can I listen too? How can I help?” 

Caleb’s heart spins in a swirl of excitement and giddiness and nerves. “Nooooohoho.” He responds, unable to hold back the giggles from his words.

“Shh— I wasn’t asking you.” Fjord scolds. 

Caleb whines, a little indignant, with a laugh into the crook of his elbow.

“Oh I know!” Jester gathers excitedly, pointedly ignoring Caleb. “I’ll hold the book and turn the pages, and you can hold his hands because they are probably, like- so, so tired from holding the book up this whole time, hmm?” She nuzzles against Caleb’s ear then, teasing. “Right Caleb?” 

Caleb squirms, his legs kicking against the couch. “Mmmmf nooooo—”

“Great idea, Jes.” Fjord answers just as Caleb chokes out another desperate little sound of protest as he breaks down into laughter.

“Here, give me this.” Jester commands, ceasing her light, tickling pokes and reaching to take the book from Caleb’s hands. 

He shakes his head, curling his upper body inward protectively. “Nohohoo—” Caleb cries as she pokes at his neck with one finger, bringing his hands back in toward his face. 

Fjord’s hands wrap —firm and unyielding as any proper sailor’s knot— around Caleb’s small wrists. 

Caleb keens forward desperately with a high pitched laugh, and Jester pulls the book the rest of the way from his grip. “There we go! Okay, okay, now then...”

Jester holds the book up above them, flipping to the page they left off on. Meanwhile, Fjord, standing beside the couch, gently tows Caleb’s shaky arms up over red and blue mops of hair. 

Caleb giggles, a few anxious little sounds of anticipation making their way out in between. He tugs weakly at his arms as he is brought back down against Jester’s chest. “Hnnnmf— Fjord,” His voice is light, nervous. “W-wait—”

“Can you see okay? Keep reading, keep reading, go on!” Jester draws the book in toward his face. 

A few quick, giddy breaths, and then he manages to read the next line of text between little laughs, his voice shaky, before it’s cut off with a squeal. “und die —CH AHH AHA HAH— NEIN!” Jester has one hand off of the book and wiggles her fingers, close but not quite touching, just above his rib cage. He shakes his head. “Don’t- don’t tease! Bihihitte!” 

“Ha!” Fjord laughs at that, squeezing at Caleb’s wrists gently in comfort. “Oh? You’re asking Jester? Not to tease?” 

Caleb whimpers, shaking his head more. “I- I..”

Jester grins, pulling her hand even further away and dexterously wiggling her fingers at him. “If I was ‘dare Schtruvel Peter’ I could tickle you from all the way up here!” 

“Jester—” Caleb sounds like he’s about to die, his voice strangled.

“Are you gonna keep reading or are we just gonna have to put the book down and focus on tickling you?” She asks, a faux impatience in her voice. 

“No! HA NEIN DON’T! Please— I can’t!”

“Sure you can, go on then!” Jester teases, her fingers wiggling threateningly above his rib cage. 

Caleb shrieks and hides his head against his shoulder again.

“Alright… well, I guess you’ll have to finish the story later, then.” Jester sighs. “Fjord, can you—” She moves the book up over Caleb’s head, wiggling it in the air. 

“No wahahait! Wait—” Caleb shakes his head, trying to wriggle his arms free.

One of Caleb’s wrists is released so that Fjord can safely grab the old book and set it next to his other discarded pile on the table beside the couch. Immediately, the freed arm shoots down and presses against his side, blocking his ribs and armpit from Jester’s teasing. His hand then comes up to cover his red face. 

“Oh no you dont.” Fjord says with a sternness as he grips Caleb’s wrist once again, gentle but strong, and pries it up away from his face. 

Caleb struggles, he fights him on it with a smile on his face, despite his show of protest. 

Well, he struggles for all of three seconds before Jester pinches at the soft spot just under his ribs twice and Caleb flails, melting, and his already limited strength is rendered useless. Fjord gets both arms comfortably back up and pinned and leans over, smirking down at them. “Does that book have any stories about……… tickle monsters?” 

“Nein—” He snorts, giggles coming out faster as Jester wiggles both hands toward and away from his prone middle, never quite touching. “But I- I think I could heh—send in ideas for their nehehext publication.”

Fjord agrees with a hum. She is rather terrifying. 

“What’s that called in Zemnian, hmm Caleb?” Fjord asks.

“Ehehe— what?” 

“Yeah, yeah! How do you say ‘the tickle monster’!” Jester asks excitedly.

He thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hehe it would.. it would be ‘das Kitzelmonster’—” He snickers as he says it, blushing a bit more.

“Aww, that’s so cute. ‘Das Kitz el Monstar’.” Jester pokes at his ribs, whispering a quick, teasing ‘kitz kitz kitz kitz’ with each poke. 

As soon as she does this, Caleb jolts. He realizes, too late, that he’s just supplied a new and dangerous fuel for the already devastatingly effective teases they both are. His back rockets up and away from Jester, face flushing hot. “Staha- stop- no! N-HNN DOHOHON’T!” His legs kick up and in toward his middle, but are blocked by Jester’s legs wrapped around him. 

With nowhere else to go, they start kicking wildly into the air and at the couch. “BITTE! Don’t— don’t say that!” His voice cracks on a loud laugh, neck and ears red hot with embarrassment. 

Jester is known for her teasing and taking apart of defenses, and she’s unmistakably the resident tickle monster of the group. She’s tickled and teased Caleb more times than she can count. He is always a sucker for it —never fails to make things a little worse, a little more sensitive, a little more effective. 

But, this time, she notices, he seems even more desperate to get away from the teasing. “Aww, I know how much you looooove it when we talk about how ticklish you are…”

“B-Bitte— HAHA DON’T— don’t!” Caleb wails. 

“Is it even wooooorse when I say it in Zemnian? Heehee! What was it? Kitzelmonster? Kitzel? Aww are you too kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish Caleb?” She scratches gently at his sides.

Caleb does his best impression of a contortionist, wailing and struggling against her in a way that seems more keen to actually get away than just for show. 

“Did the Kitzelmonster get ya?” She giggles.

He’s taken much harder — and much worse — tickling before, and never reacted quite so viscerally to teasing. Jester feels an evil, delighted little twist in her stomach at the knowledge. 

“Eheehee no! HAHA JESTER— Please!! N-not that —don’t say it! Mist, stop it —please.”

“HMMMMmm.” She ponders loudly, gently fitting one unmoving fingertip after another into the grooves of his ribs. With his squirming, he’s essentially tickling himself at this point. “How about… if you ask me to tickle you, I’ll stop saying how cute and kitz kitz kitzel-ish you are!”

“NEIN!” Caleb shouts, indignant.

“I’ll even give you a little break first if you ask nice!” She offers with a laugh. “Because like, you kinda seem like you’re gonna die.” 

He says nothing, just laughs and shakes his head.

“Okay then.” He feels her shrug underneath him. Her hands pull away from his ribs. 

He takes a nervous, shaky breath —just in time for her fingers to walk up to Caleb’s rib cage under his shirt instead and start doing something very fast and very effective. 

He shrieks and breaks into desperate cackles. His laughter pitches up to a scream —and, just as quickly, she pulls her hands back out from under his shirt.

“Now, wanna try that again?” She opens and closes her hands like little claws, a few inches above Caleb’s sides. “Or do you want me to keep talking about how kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish poor little ticklish kitzel-ish Caleb is?” 

Caleb shakes his head with a surprising voracity, his body flailing and jolting. Fjord nearly loses his grip on Caleb’s wrists. 

Still not touching him, she wiggles her fingers, and Caleb laughs as though her claws are already taking him apart. 

“BITTE— NEIN!” He pleads. “AHA— STAHOP!”

She persists, voice dark and scary. “Oh nooooo, Caleb! The Kitzelmonster’s almost got you! And it brought its fri-ends!” 

As she speaks, teasing and throwing in every silly variation she can of the word that she can think of. 

Her voice gets quieter from Fjord’s perspective as she leans in close and continues, whispering into Caleb’s bright red ear. 

Jester teases in a way that should be outlawed, truly a cruel and unusual punishment. It’s— he’s… laughing and squirming so hard already, and- and no one’s even tickling him right now. 

Tears in his eyes, face red and blotchy, Caleb eventually whimpers out —his voice desperate, breathless, “Jester- enough, STOP stop- stop saying it, plehehehehease! Okay! Okay— ehehe! Stop!” He groans. “Just- just tickle meheHEHEEHEE—” 

Her fingers zip in to do just that as Jester giggles triumphantly. “By the way, next time we do this, I’m gonna make you tell me how to ask for it in Zemnian.” She adds casually.

Through silly giggles, he asks. “NE-NEIN- Jester, ahaha, wh-why?” His eyes flutter shut.

Fjord laughs, the sound radiating warmth into Caleb’s skin. “She really is an evil little ‘Kitzelmonster’, isn’t she?” 

“Fjord!” Jester scolds with a giggle as Caleb lets out a pathetic squeal in protest at his words. 

Caleb’s legs fly into the air, kicking at imaginary targets yet too uncoordinated to hit even those. His laughter rings out loudly in the room as Jester pokes and scritches under his arms.

“You look like you’re ready to try out for the circus.” 

The sudden appearance of Mollymauk’s voice sends a chill down Caleb’s spine. 

His head snaps over to confirm that, yes, Molly is leaning casually in the doorway. Smile on his face. Mischief in his eyes. Fingers twitchy in a way he gets when he really wants something (and that ‘something’, often, is to draw lovely laughter from those close to him). 

“But really, Caleb, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep floundering about like that.”

“Hi Molly! Oh, you’re right. I did say I’d give him a break,” Jester smiles, bringing her hands down to rest on his thighs, not tickling.

Caleb’s deep breath out is fizzling with anxious snickers. “Ehehehe M-Mollymauk.. Molly. Molly—” How long has he been standing there? 

“Yes?” Molly purrs, drawing into the room. 

Caleb looks up at the ceiling, whimpers. “Please,” a breath, “you’ll— ehe they’ll— you’re killing mehehehee.” 

“I’m killing you? Ha. Well. It’s a good thing Jester’s close by.” Molly smirks, then, dramatically winces with a waiver of his hand. “Mm. Well, I bet Caduceus isn’t far anyway.” 

“Hey! Rude!” Jester shifts to stick her tongue out at Molly. “Anyway. Don’t you think he’s had enough of a break? Go get his feet!” 

“What? No wait! But you barely—” Caleb cries out, drawing his legs as close to his chest as possible. 

“You bet-ter put those back down…” Jester threatens, tracing featherlight circles into the skin of his sides, just under his shirt. 

“No!” Caleb wails in protest. His flailing kicks begin anew.

Well, if he’s going to be stubborn about it… Molly strolls to the other end of the couch, chuckles, and then, like a cat watching a flock of birds, begins batting at Caleb’s legs and dodging kicks, hunting for the perfect in.

Uncoordinated, tickled, and giddy with laughter, Caleb doesn’t make it long before Molly’s towing one of his ankles down to the end of the couch with a victorious snicker. 

“Got one!”

His other leg keeps kicking wildly, still unclaimed. 

There’s a mixture of Common and Zemnian (or at least an attempt at them) in between loud, boisterous, shrieking laughs as Molly swipes a finger up and down his sole.

Jester moves her fingers up, two on each side, scritching lightly into Caleb’s armpits. 

Meanwhile, Molly fully disregards the free foot in order to devote his focus to holding down Caleb’s ankle and wiggling more fingers under scrunched toes. 

Molly gets a claw under and between some just as Jester adds more fingers to his underarms, and Caleb makes a sound so loud and desperate that he’s glad —somewhere in his mind where he can remember to be— that they is in his tower and not in the middle of a tavern room, surrounded by other rooms, with people around. 

In the moment, he fails to consider, however, that there are in fact still people in the tower. 

Caleb’s not thinking about that, though. In fact, he’s not thinking about much at all right now, other than how badly this tickles. 

“You have ten seconds to put your other leg down, or I’m gonna have Molly come up here and help me get your ribs.” Jester offers as a threat, pausing her tickling, as does Mollymauk.

A beat of silence aside from quavering laughter, then Caleb asks. “Wh-when… when did you become so evil?”

Jester giggles. “Always been!” And then she blows a raspberry on his neck. 

“AAAII— OKAY!” 

She stops —and then, denying his better instincts, Caleb brings his other leg down shakily. He allows Molly to wrap both ankles up in the crook of his elbow. 

The free purple hand wiggles delightedly, a few inches away from the trapped soles before him. He looks back over his shoulder at Caleb —who looks absolutely lovely when he’s devastated in this way.  

Caleb protests without any conviction. “This is— very unfair.” 

Jester pokes down his rib cage and over to his tummy. 

“Plehe— oh nohoh-AHA haha noooo—” Caleb squirms, his head rolling back with laughter. 

Just then, she starts to lightly spider her fingers over his stomach, while Molly does the same technique, alternating over each foot. Fjord watches each of them fondly, Jester clearly having the time of her life — she really is a ‘Kitzelmonster’. They take turns, not wanting to completely overwhelm the tired, scrawny wizard, with Molly and Jester each watching the other and commenting on Caleb’s reactions.

When Caleb opens his blurry eyes again, a few minutes and endless laughs later, he sees Veth, looming over the back of the couch next to a curled up Rudi. She gives him a smug, knowing little smile. It can be intense, electric, unbearable at times —being tickled —but Caleb has confessed under the influence of alcohol and ticklish duress that he doesn’t hate — or even enjoys, much to his chagrin — the opportunities that come up in his life for his brain to slow down and fog up a little bit, til there is no room for guilt and worry. He is in (many) good hands, after all. But, it’s nice to know she knows, she’ll be there, she’ll help take him apart a little too, if she likes, and, eventually, she’ll help reign in the tieflings if he needs her to. 

Caleb can’t hold her gaze for long, his eyes close just as Jester’s fingers start poking into his sides repeatedly. 

A moment later he gasps, curling his head and neck sideways at the first flutter of a light, fluffy edge of a feather along the shell of his ear. 

“Ehe- staha— Veheheheth!” Caleb stutters out through laughter. He attempts a peak at her and finds one of her feather-fall feathers held neatly in her mage hand, twirling about just beside his head. “Ahaha— nein!”

“What is this? You guys threw a wreck-the-wizard party without me?” Beau’s voice cuts through the already overwhelmed sensory input in Caleb’s brain. 

His voice is shrill, desperate in response. “No— hehehe nononono— Beheheheaureagard! Aha gehehehet out of hehehere! NOHOHOHO!” 

“Oh, please. Don’t bother.” Beau’s response is rippling with smug laughter as she waves dismissively at him. 

Caleb soon becomes aware of a hand wrapping around his shins a few moments after she speaks. He curses between laughs and hopelessly tries again to kick his legs. 

Beau moves one arm behind his legs and squeezes at his calf muscle once, twice, an attempted scolding for his jolts and kicks of protest. Caleb shrieks. Everyone freezes — it almost feels as though time stops for a moment. 

Caleb yelps when she does it again, his breath sucking in a half-second later. 

Jester peaks over Caleb’s shoulder. “Oooh, what did you do?” Her hands idle over Caleb’s sides. 

Molly looks over his shoulder, smug and grinning. “Look— I knew your knees were bad… but.”

“Looks like someone’s a little ticklish here.” Beau smirks, letting out a little evil laugh. She squeezes the back of Caleb’s leg again, a few inches below his knee. 

“No!” He cries out, laughing. “Dohohon’t—”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? Laugh?” Beau snickers and begins squeezing the back of each of his legs, up and down the calf muscles. She kneels down beside the couch, finding the perfect angle. Meanwhile, Molly keeps Caleb’s ankles locked up in a solid, tight hold, enjoying the show. 

Caleb wails out a few more wheezy protests between cackles as Beau tickles up and down his legs. “Don’t! Beauhoho— hahaha stAHAHOP!” 

Jester wriggles underneath him as she repositions and trails her hands down.. down.. down as far as she can, lightly tickling down his ribs and sides as she goes, squeezing his hips, past where her own legs are wrapped around his middle. She reaches out, grabbing in the air at Beau’s hands —fingers still a decent distance from tickling anywhere near his calves or knees. “Ha! You’re ticklish everywhere Caleb!” Jester giggles into his ear. 

“Yeah, how’d you manage to hide this spot from us for so long?” Beau asks. “Are your legs this sensitive all the way up and down?” She pinches at the backs of his ankles all the way up to his knees, then continues up, squeezing around his thighs. 

“Ehehe- no! Leheheheheave them alone!” Caleb cries. 

“Not a chance, man- ha! They so are— look at you!” She pinches at a spot a few inches below his knee that gets him kicking — or, well, trying his best to. “You’re fucking ridiculous!” She laughs.

Caleb lets out a noise somewhere between a snort and a plea. His laughter and thrashing continue to grow frantic. 

Beau leans against the couch and wraps Caleb’s knees up in one arm. She pinches and squeezes the backs of his calves with her free hand, a smug grin on her face. 

Mollymauk’s tail joins her hand and tries to wiggle against the backs of his legs and knees. Meanwhile, his fingers keep up a quick tempo fluttering across Caleb’s wiggling feet. 

“Eeheehee whahahahah-why are you tryhihing to kill mehehehee!?” Caleb cries out. 

Jester watches delightedly as Beau and Molly drive him up the wall. She holds tight with her legs as he squirms and wriggles, desperate for escape. 

“Aww, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” Jester answers him, wiggling her fingers in a tease a few inches above his armpits. “We wouldn’t do it if you weren’t having fun!” 

Caleb turns somehow even more red at that and lets out a pathetic little peal of laughter in response to her teasing.

Veth’s mage hand moves down to start poking at his top rib just under his armpit on the side nearest the couch. 

“Ehe— no! Neihihein! Bitte!” He squirms to the side, only to meet Jester’s finger on the other side.

Molly and Beau pause to rearrange a bit, trying to figure out the best way to hold his legs while also watching his helpless little squirms. 

Caleb sputters out giggles and half-worded pleas.

Jester ponders aloud. “I should probably call Yasha and Caduceus… I feel like they’re going to be preeeeeetty bummed if they miss this. I know I would be.” 

“No— no!” Caleb squeaks. 

Molly wiggles a finger up and down Caleb’s arch while Beau squeezes just above his knee. 

“Ugh. You’re right, Caleb. There’s barely any room for us. You need to make the couch in here bigger next time you bring up the tower.” Jester chastises, poking at his side in light, random patterns. “There’s not enough room for everyone.” 

Caleb whimpers into his bicep through laughter. 

“I have an idea..” Fjord grins, transferring Caleb’s wrists to one hand and reaching down with the other to squeeze and tickle at both his and Jester’s sides below. 

Caleb cackles with a renewed desperation, while Jester cries out. “Hehehee- hey! Hah-” She gasps in fake offense before breaking into giggles.

“Let’s move ‘im to the bed.” Fjord finishes his thought with a few pokes under Caleb’s arm. 

“Mmmf— nooooo heh—” Caleb protests weakly, his face tingling with a happy, giddy silliness —sweet and warm under his skin like fresh honey. 

Fjord releases his wrists and reaches down with both hands, and —easily besting the now flailing arms— hooks his hands underneath Caleb’s shoulders and around to his armpits. He lifts up. Caleb squeals. Fjord wiggles his fingers a bit. Caleb makes some kind of choked laugh. 

Then Caleb is shaking his head more fervently as Beau reaches to lift him under his knees.  Mollymauk releases his ankles with a grin.

“Bitte, you-you’ve had your fun! Y-you’re killing me! Mercy!” Caleb pleads, his eyes wide as Beau and Fjord make quick work of lifting him up.

He scrambles for any sort of anchor or purchase —a steady moore out in the sea of giddiness and laughter he’s found himself caught and floating in. 

“Hey!” Almost on cue, a familiar sensation of Jester’s claws make their reappearance on his sides. “That’s mine! Give him back!” She scolds.

“NAHA— ehehehee, don’t!” Caleb can’t stop himself from squirming and flinching away as Jester’s fingers prod and tickle at the wizard above her. 

She snickers, delighted, and her fingers follow along for as long as she can reach him. Noticing this, Fjord and Beau seem to take an extra long time moving him up and away from the couch —and out of tiefling range —over to the bed. 

Finally, he’s out of Jester’s range. His breath comes in shakily as they deposit him gently on his mattress. He’s red-faced, tears welling up in his eyes with a few running messily down his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut to hide from the scrutiny and knowing smiles of his companions above. 

“Hee- oh nohoho—” Caleb whimpers with a smile. He reaches up with a shaky hand and grips one of his pillows, dragging it down over his head to shove his burning face into. 

“Aww, Caleb! Are you hiding from us?” Jester’s voice alone draws an extra giggle from him behind his pillow. 

Caleb shakes his head behind the pillow.

“Come onnnnn, where’s that smile?” The mattress sinks as she climbs onto it near him.

“Nooooooo..” Caleb whimpers, wrapping both arms around the pillow and smushing it tighter against his face. It doesn’t do much to muffle his anticipatory laughter. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Jester scoffs. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Caleb’s legs kick at that, drumming against the bed as it dips a few more times —Molly and Veth, he concludes, since Jester is already looming next to him and Fjord and Beau still have hands on his shoulders and knees. 

“Alright, come on, let’s get him already!” Beau declares impatiently. 

“Ah, I love the spirit, Beauregard, but it can be so much fun to drag it out —build him up, topple him over…” Molly traces a delicate nail down Caleb’s chest. Caleb shivers deliciously. The claw lifts away.

Jester snickers. “We already tickled him like soooo much on the couch, Molly, he’s already all mush-brain. Come on!”

“Oh alright —you’re right, you’re right.” Molly shrugs, crawling his way up to Caleb’s other side.

Caleb wails into the pillow when two sets of tiefling claws touch down gently over his midriff with purpose, leaving teasing trails down his sides and over his stomach and lowest ribs. “Mmpppph- n- nahaha- oh nohohoho— eheh oh dohohohon’t! Bitte! Mmmf-aha ahahaha! Please— please!” 

Fjord leans down, taking Caleb’s hands with ease into his own and pulling them up over his head. He adjusts, laying on the bed while keeping Caleb’s arms trapped against the mattress. He shifts the pillow over and off of him so that he can get in close to Caleb’s pink face, then nuzzles into the side of his hair. 

“Mmm. It’s too bad I can’t use my hands.”

Caleb feels some quiet relief at that. Maybe a little disappointment too, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to focus on that. 

Still, some sliver of Caleb’s mind registers the rumbling chuckle Fjord gives as dangerous as he continues. “—I guess I’ll have to improvise, then.” 

Caleb’s voice catches in his throat as Fjord’s words take on meaning just in time for lips and scruff to brush right up against Caleb’s ear. 

“Eeheehee- ah! Yeehehehee- you— aha- no NO plehease!” 

“Aww, he’s soooooo cute!” Jester squeaks with a few pinches to his ribs. 

Caleb jolts under them with a whine. “Ha- aha I- noooo— I’m —ahahaha I’m not!” 

“Yes! Yes you are!” She pinches his cheek just as Fjord sucks in a breath. Helpful little Kitzelmonster she is, Jester brushes Caleb’s hair away from the side of his neck.

“Nein!” Caleb cries as the breath comes out as a vibrating, ticklish, raspberry on his neck. 

Caleb is soon lost to cackling laughter as Molly and Jester prod and tickle at his middle while Fjord mouths along his neck and ear. And it isn’t too long before he registers two sets of blunt nails —Beau and Veth, his mind helpfully provides— that have touched down on his feet. He doesn’t even try to kick beyond the instinctive flinching away —he knows he’s not going anywhere. 

The feeling— a mindless bliss not unlike that of an evening spent polymorphed —builds slowly. But, soon enough, Caleb’s mind feels light, unbothered and untethered, as his thoughts swirl and spark with the ticklish input from what seemed like every nerve. There is a… a warmth that accompanies it, one that Caleb comfortably slips into with a strange familiarity as though it is where he had always belonged. 

Jester’s voice cuts through the sound of Caleb’s laughter as she begins her sending spell.  “Hey, Yasha? Are you with Caduceus—” Fjord briefly gets a panicked look in his eye as she starts, jerking his head back and realizing he can’t count her words out as easily. He taps his fingers into the skin of Caleb’s wrists one at a time in counting as she continues, “you guys should come up to Caleb’s room, we’re having a lot of fun! Hurry up you don’t wanna—” 

Caleb feels Fjord’s fingers wiggle individually against the thin skin of his arms. They aren’t the only ones —all in all, he registers Jester’s fingers fluttering around under his arm and pinching at his lower ribs with her other hand, Molly’s claws spidering menacingly over his belly, Beau’s arm tight around his ankles, her fingers pulling back his big toes while Veth wiggles her nails all over his feet. His mind feels dizzy and fizzling —some kind of gelatinous consistency, perhaps. 

One of Caleb’s last coherent thoughts is that it was at least a mercy (or… was it a tragedy?) that this hadn’t happened in Beau’s room, where he could have ended up having to watch this giggling, disheveled vision of himself taken apart in the mirror over her bed by his friends.

As it is, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be lost, swimming safely in the sea of hands poking at him from every direction. 

…

Zemnian (German) | English Translations: von - from bitte - please nein - no der Struwwelpeter - the ‘shock-haired’ Peter (book) lustige Geschichten - funny/amusing stories drollige Bilder - funny pictures Scheiße - shit  Mist - crap/shit  das Kitzelmonster - the tickle monster guten Abend - good evening Mm yeah ..and I’m just going…to include these… kitzeln - tickle (verb)  kitzlig / kitzelig - ticklish  das Kitzel/n - the tickle / the tickling (noun)

…

ADDITIONAL AUTHORS NOTES:

A/N: And now friends and readers who are still here, if you look to your…down — what you’ll see are some fun notes I did and things I learned while researching things for this story — also side note — it’s been about 10 years since, but I took 5 years of German from middle to high school, I’m not by any means fluent but I remember decent enough (and I had the power of the internet and search engines on my side)!!: 

ANYWAY — I wanted to figure out some strange quirky little Deutsch storybook that I could have Caleb have in his library, something with a catchy (see also: silly) cover or title that would draw Jester’s eye..

Found this very quickly with a search for German children’s stories. &lt;— yeah, my silly little lee brain was like “lol those nails” immediately — had to use. 

Fic title was inspired from the book cover and title / description

Link to the book on Amazon 😆 

Did a decent amount of skimming and looking over, I was immediately thinking German fairy tale / kids story, and they’re usually kind of brutal in Germany. 

Did cross my mind to use der Katzenprinz or not go into as much detail on the book, or have her try to convince him to read Tusk Love… 😏 😈  

Oh great! (affectionate) now am I gonna have to write that? (compulsive)

Yes! 

I was conflicted on which translation to use to refer to Jester in ‘Zemnian’. I saw Hoffnar (court jester, king’s fool) , Narr/Närrin (fool, jester, joker), and Spaßmacher (joker, jester, clown) but literal translation of this one is fun-maker which I feel fits Jester very well. She makes fun, is fun, joke, jests, and is all around silly and teasy the whole fic so. Yes bby girl. In the end I ended up scrapping this longer title but it was essentially gonna be "Lustige Geschichten von der Spamacherin" but twas shortened.

Moving on from the language and literature … the em..um… erm.. position was inspired from this lovely video (also recently found out she’s very happily lee and I’m like YES GIRL. ITS SO MUCH MORE DJFJFJJG TO SEE AND KNOW THEY LOVE/HATE/LOVE IT hsjsjdkf. Truly inspiring. What good friends. Caleb deserves to be in her position. 

List of some of the lovely prompts / ideas that inspired parts of the story - original prompts in green:

Critical Role c2

1. Caleb & anyone

2. Fjord & Jester

3. Caleb & Fjord

4. Essek & anyone

5. Any combo of the mighty nein you’d like

me: yess. yes. now that I’m making this I realize Essek isn’t there. (Neither are cad or yasha, they’re… meditating and drinking tea). Essek needs to have a turn helping them melt Caleb.

A has noticed that B is acting much sadder & moody than usual, little do they know that B is hamming it up in the hope of getting cheer up tickles. Whether the beans are spilled or not is up to you ;) (by beans I mean the fact they were trying to fake it)

me: I had a few ideas from various prompts floating around in my mind but also sometimes these fics just flow out of my brain — they go where they decide they’re gonna go! I’m sure you know! Anywho, it doesn’t exactly go into sad and moody but stoic and boring and drawing the silliness out of them. 

We love a good flustered blushing silly Caleb, we also love a stubborn little journey to get there while slowly losing his composure. 

I feel that Caleb knew what would happen as soon as Jester 

a. sat on the couch with him

b. picked out the book

c. asked him to read to her, or

d. pranced into the room.

But either way he was #ready to be silly as soon as she came in - some serious #leebehavior immediately winding her up 

A has really ticklish calves & B finds out while pinning them to tickle their feet, & they immediately switch targets

me: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR VERY OWN BEAUREGARD LIONETT PLEASE!!! 

TICKLISH CALVES! TICKLISH LEGS! AHH!

I love this so much fr fr fr fr 

See, but…. What if you have multiple friends and multiple hands… :D

A has been trying to get B’s attention when it becomes clear they’re deliberately being ignored.

me: love this trope so much

Caleb’s brain: I MUST ANTAGONIZE JESTER IMMEDIATELY. BUT SWEETLY.

Caleb’s brain: tells Jester how to say ‘tickle’ in his native tongue

Caleb’s brain a few min later: in turmoil over why he makes it soooooo much worse for himself — well for a few more minutes until he gets all wobbly and brain-buzzy

A either has something B wants or won’t do their job & need some convincing in the form of B’s tickling fingers

me: inner Jester monologue ‘Come on Caleb. Read the book. Read it. Do a silly voice. Read while I poke at your ribs. I don’t mind if you laugh. Come on keep trying. Okay I guess Fjord and I are just gonna drop the playful ruse. But you’re finishing that book for me later.’

Final Author's Note —

I hope this holiday gift pleases you, my dear @amazingmsme! Happiest Squealing Santa to Thee! 2023! I’m so happy I got you for the exchange and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and new year!!!!!!!!!! 

#amazingmsme #squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #critickle role #lee!caleb #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT PLS ENJOY #IT WAS A BLAST TO WRITE AND TO SEND YOU LITTLE SNIPPETS THROUGH THE DAYS LEADING UP TO CHRISTMAS #I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL HOLIDAY #ticklish!caleb #gives me life #tickle fic #tickling #mine #critical role #fluff #funny stories #ler!jester #ler!mollymauk #ler!fjord #ler!beauregard #ler!veth #poor bb caleb #its ok he has fun #mage hand tickles #tickles #teasing #story time #lustige Geschichten #cr #cr fic

[brokenanxiety]

Can you write something where Mat Barzal fell in love with the team physical therapist and she also fell in love with him ?

as an occupational therapy student this pains me...

you begin working for the islanders organization at the beginning of the 2022-2023 season

the first time you meet mat is at a preseason team dinner where the medical team and the players all attend

mat noticed you right away and was def chirped by marty and zeeker for staring too long

"who is she? havent seen her around."

"thats y/n. shes the teams newest physical therapist. she will be with us at home and on the road if needed."

fast foward a couple of months, you and mat are joined at the hip

you spend all your free time hanging out with each other: early morning coffee dates, late night drives after games, movies nights cuddled up on the couch

you werent sure after which of your countless platonic hangouts did you start to look at mat differently

maybe it was after matt martins 2023 poker tournament or maybe it was after a long road trip where he came over and demanded you cuddle him until your arms went numb

mat knew from the moment he saw you that he would fall in love with you

falling in love with you was the easy part, not showing it was the hard part for mat

he tried to remain subtle but every cuddle sesh had him wanting more and it takes everything in him to not kiss you after a home game win when he sees you walking in the hallway back to your office

without fail, mat will visit you in the physical therapy room at least twice a week

he doesnt even need anything most of the time, he just wants to chat. he wants the chance to be in your presence and just admire your beauty

the first time mat admits, out loud, that he loves you is when you are asleep in his arms (or so he thinks) and he whispers "im so in love with you and you have no idea. wish you would let me call you mine some day."

although you are not an official wag, sydney martin always makes sure to include you at wag events

the girls are so invested in you and mat getting together

they are the first people you admit to that you like mat, maybe even love him; but they already knew that

"girls, i cant. im the teams physical therapist. plus he only sees me as a friend. he would never see me like that."

mat takes you as a plus one to a wedding during the offseason

of course you color coordinate (mats request) and the other guests cant help but comment on how cute you two are

during the bouquet toss, you stand in the back hoping that the bouquet wouldnt come close to you

you were wrong as it lands perfectly in your hands

you run up to mat all excited and gushing about how pretty the bouquet is and how unexpected it was to catch it

in the middle of your ramblings mat mutters "fuck it" under his breath and pulls you in for a passionate kiss

"wow. that was just..." you say breathlessly

"yeah. ive been waiting to do that for months."

not really physical therapist specific but hope you enjoy anon

#rebecca's neurons are firing #mat barzal #answered

[ttoadsandsnails]

Alien x reader

This is an old request where the reader wanted an alien like you see in old sci-fi.

Please enjoy!

Word count: 2528

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

“I trust the preparations for your mission are ready K’utzar?”

“Yes sire. All needed materials are accounted for, and the ship has had a proper inspection. I will depart within the hour.”

“Good. You are dismissed. Good luck on your travels.”

“Thank you, sire.” They bowed before turning to make their leave. 

The journey down the corridor to the docking bay was a quiet one. K’utzar being lost in thought and worry. It would be the first mission they even have gone on by themselves. 

Wringing their hands they attempted to calm down. Everything would be fine right? It’s just a simple sediment and life information retrieval. A routine procedure. What’s the worst that can happen?

 At the end of the corridor they place their palm on the scanner causing the doors to slide open revealing the massive room busy with the hustle and bustle of others working on their assigned duties. They catch a few knowing glances from those they pass. Everyone was nervous about their first solo mission. Knowing this gave K’utzar some comfort.

There it was, gleaming like a beacon in the dim sector of the bay. The place they would call home for the next twelve days. The ship was beautiful for a lack of better words. A light blue meshing with white the further you looked up to the nose. The structure, large enough to be a temporary living space as well as hold research materials, but not large enough to draw the attention of locals. K’utzar willed themselves to calm down as the nerves started rising again.

“Let's just get this over with” they said as they entered the open hatch and settled in their seat at the controls. With a firm grasp on the steering mechanism and a few switches being flipped they speak into the comm.

“G-491 ready for departure” they say as the ship whirrs to life, the interior lighting up making a soft glow cast over their grey complection. 

“All clear. Proceed with take off” a voice crackled over the speakers. With that they took off out of the bay and on to their destination, a little planet in the Milky-Way. Earth. 

With the coordinations set they relax a bit. The trip will take about twenty minutes, giving themselves some time to reflect.

“Everything will be alright” they mumble to themselves what they said earlier, glancing out at the stars whizzing past. “What’s the worst that can happen?” 

-

The sun almost fully set as you got your daily duties finished. You were spending the summer helping out on your grandparents farm while they were away on vacation. It was hard work, but thankfully, most of what you had to do was care for the animals, and keep the plants watered. Avery trailed behind you as you gathered up the tools to store them away in the small barn. Avery was your massive five year old sheepdog who was just a big sweetheart, so when she suddenly halted facing the small dense forest that surrounded the back of the barn with her fur standing erect and her lips drawn in a low growl, you were more than startled.

You whistle for her to come, thinking maybe she just saw a deer, but she didn’t budge. At this point the sky was a deep blue, making it hard to see anything other than what was illuminated by the lights of the barn. Grasping the pitchfork you stamp the handle and whistle once more calling for her. “Avery! Come on! We need to feed the chickens before we head to bed!”

A blinding light pierced through the dark foliage, bright and green in color. It made you drop your pitchfork as you tried to shield your eyes from the intensity of the beam. As sudden as it came it was gone, replaced with a soft glow emanating from far in the forest. A noise much like an air valve being released could be heard. With this Avery bolted in the direction of the light, her barks bouncing off the trees. 

“Avery!” you yelled, gathering up your pitchfork and chasing after her. It must have just been another group of teenagers going in because of a dare. You’ve never seen her react this way before though. The light quickly got closer and you saw her standing there barking at the source. Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed upon a…..ship? You were astonished by its appearance. It was like nothing you had ever seen. The light seemed to be coming from inside of the strange vessel.

You swallowed thickly, mind quickly coming to the conclusion this had to be a prank. Whoever set this up had to still be nearby. You furrowed your eyebrows, upset with the situation they had put you in. “Avery heel!” you call to her. She obeys this time, coming to your side but with sharp eyes still fixed on the vessel.

“Whoever put this here needs to show themselves immediately! This is private property!” you demand tightly gripping the handle preparing yourself for the group of teens you always catch out here to come out. What you weren’t prepared for was a small figure to come out of the open hatch of the ship holding up two, three fingered hands. Shock shot through your body as you looked into abnormally large black eyes that were placed on the smooth grey skin that made up this creature's face. It looked like something straight out of a horror film.

Losing the initial shock you roll your eyes. “I’ll admit, that’s an impressive costume, but you need to remove the mask now or I’ll do it for you” you insist with a few steps in their direction. A quiet mumble can be heard but it is indistinguishable. “What was that?” you pause about ten paces away. They twist a knob on the front of their jumpsuit and mumble again. 

“Not- costume. No- not- costume.” comes a gabled voice.

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean not a costume? Of course it’s a costume!” 

Then they blink.

You gasp and stumble back, ankle catching on a tree root causing you to fall. Avery quickly stands in between you two. The combination of your reaction and Avery's snarling appearance causes the alien to start waving their hands in a plea.

With a slap to the dial on their chest they blurt out, “Please! I come in peace! I am just doing a sample retrieval!” 

“A sample retrieval!? Are you here to abduct me!?” horror washed over your features.

“No of course not! I’m here to take samples of soil and plant matter to see if there might be something beneficial in the chemical and structural make up of this planet's matter in comparison to other planets! I have no desire to harm you!” they say stumbling over some words with how quickly they are trying to speak.

It feels like ages pass before either of you make a move. You sigh and slowly pull yourself up. Why me?

 “So.. let me get this straight. You’re here to take some dirt and leaves back with you on this” you gesture to the vessel behind them, “spaceship, so you find out if you could maybe use it for something?” They nod quickly. “And you aren’t here to take people?” This time they shake their head side to side.

You let out a small chuckle. A stroke to Avery’s head pulls her guard down and you tell her to sit. Sensing your sudden calmness causes her to calm down fully.

“Alright then. I don’t know why but I believe you. You got a name?” you say with a small smile on your lips. They visibly relax at this, smiling back “I am called K’utzar.”  

“K’utzar huh? Well K’utzar, why did you pick here of all places to do your research?” you questioned looking around at the surrounding forest. “To be honest, there isn’t much here but firs and branches.”

“I was told to conduct my research here because it was supposedly desolate of any ‘humans’, but I see now they were wrong” they sigh as they too look around.

“Well tell you what. You need different plants right?” Nod. “And wouldn’t it go faster if you had help?” Nod. “From a local?”

 K’utzars face lit up at this. “You mean you? You would help me?”

They looked ecstatic, causing you to give a large smile. “Yes, I’ll help. We can start tomorrow morning if you would like?”

 They clasp their hands together. “Yes of course! I-we will start when there is light.”

 With a wave of your hand you turn back towards the barn house. “Alright see you then. Come on Avery, it’s bedtime!” With that you make your way back, all the while thinking about the strange friendly alien. Scooping the discarded tools up you shove them back into the barn and quickly check on the animals, exhausted from the day's activities.

With the barn locked, the lights off, and Avery at your heel, you finally head off to bed. Pulling the covers up to your chin you spare a glance out of the window by your bed, and see the dim light still emanating from the woods and wonder what tomorrow will bring with your new ‘friend’.

-

Light streaming through your window onto your pillow rouses you out of a peaceful rest making you let out a groan pulling the covers over your head. K’utzar! You sit up suddenly, the sheets falling from your head. You quickly throw the covers off and change into a comfortable outfit and pull some boots on. There is a cold wetness on your leg and you look down to see Avery nudging you and whining. “Aw, sorry girl, I’m going to have you stay here today. I promise you can come tomorrow though.” You ruffle her fur and then head out the door and to the forest.

I’m pretty sure it was here? Was it all a dream? “Hello human!” a voice exclaims from behind. You whip around to see them there again, this time holding a box full of tubes and wearing a bright smile. 

“Are you ready to begin the day?” Alright, yesterday did happen. You inhale a deep breath and smile. 

“Yup! You can call me y/n btw, not just human.”

 “Oh yes! Of course!” they stutter out.

 “Well, where do we start?”

They showed you the ropes about how to properly collect samples of things using a small scoop that is then placed into a tube and sealed. The tube contained a clear liquid that would dissolve the material on contact then change color depending on what was put in. The whole process was fascinating. 

“With your help y/n, I can find different materials much quicker as you know more about this planet.” they expressed, gratitude lacing their voice. 

An idea suddenly came to mind. “You need plant matter too right?” You stood up dusting off your knees and looked at them awaiting an answer. 

“That is correct. Why?” a puzzled expression crossing their features. 

“I have a farm! I grow plants! You could take a sample from plants I’m sure you wouldn’t have access to otherwise. Here come this way.” You grab their hand pulling them along till you reach the field next to the barn. The small field is littered with a multitude of different fruits, vegetables, and herbs. K’utzar glances around at the lush produce, mouth agape.

You let go of their hand, using it to grab a bright red tomato off of the nearest vine and hand it to them causing them to place the box down. “That is a tomato, over there are blueberries, the tall ones are corn, and those are squash.” You tell as you walk them through the plants closest to you. 

They turn the tomato over in their hands, observing the way it shines in the sunlight. Dark eyes glance up into your own, they look flabbergasted. “This is all so much to take in. I feel overwhelmed by your generosity. This planet is beautiful so far from what I’ve seen, and there is so much more to do then I first thought” they say as they hand the tomato back. “I have a favor to ask of you.” they lean over and shuffle through the box. In their hands seems to be a notebook? “I was wondering if you would record the names of the plants and the information you know about them. Your knowledge would be a most helpful addition to our research.”

They wanted you to take notes? “What will you do while I do this?” you question as you take the notebook. 

“I will continue taking samples!” they beamed. “There is so much work to do! Shall we get started then?”

You chuckle at their enthusiasm and nod. With that you both started on your work, you taking the occasional break to water some plants or check on the animals all the while asking K’utzar where they were from and what it’s like in space. 

By the end of the day you two had a sizable chunk of work done. You wipe the sweat off your brow and hand the notebook back to K’utzar. “Here you are. I had a lot of fun helping you today. It sure beats my normal farmwork.” 

They place the notebook under their arm and grasp your hands. “Thank you. I enjoyed today with you more than I have enjoyed a day in a long time. You are a wonderful being and I am lucky to be in your presence y/n.”

You don’t know why, but their words caused heat to rise in your cheeks. “Will you need my help tomorrow?” you say looking away because of their intense gaze. 

“Yes, I will.”

“I will be here around the same time then.” you spoke quietly, slinking your hands away and heading up the steps of the house. 

“I will look forward to our time spent together. Have a plentiful rest y/n.” they shouted at your retreating form. 

“You too!” you called back as you swiftly shut the door behind you and slumped against it. In no time Avery was at your side joyously lapping at your flushed face. You laugh and push her off. “Yes hello to you too.” She settles herself down next to you, head placed in your lap while you skritch at her ear. 

Today really was great. The idea of seeing K’utzar tomorrow made your heartbeat quicken. The conversations you had today showed you just how kind they are and how much they truly loved their job. You could get used to this. Someone to talk to, share thoughts to, it made you excited for tomorrow. 

You promptly stood up, ready to head to bed. As you settle into the soft linen you can’t help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. You turn your body toward the window seeing the dim light still glowing from the foliage. With a grin on your face you are lulled to sleep with thoughts of your new companion.          

#reader x monster #monster x reader #alien x reader #reader x alien #monster scenarios #monster romance #my writing #ttoadsandsnails

[ladykailitha]

Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town Part 4

Tag List cap is 20

This one came from a BTS photo of Kerry and Gaten at a keyboard. Also me, projecting an actor’s talents on his character? More likely than you’d think ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

*

Eddie frowned as he heard the sounds of a piano being played coming from the back of Steve’s house. He didn’t think he liked that kind of music. But there weren’t any other cars out there so Steve’s parents couldn’t be home.

He knocked but no one answered. So he wandered around to the back to see if he could figure out where the sound was coming from. When he reached the pool he could see into one of the many windows of the house and was surprised to see Dustin and Steve sitting at what looked to Eddie to be a baby grand.

Steve was wearing a red sweater over a white polo with the sleeves pushed up and Eddie was speechless. The red really brought out the color in Steve’s complexion.

The music stopped and Steve smiled at Dustin, giving him a high five. Which is of course when Eddie’s body decided it wanted to be as coordinated as a baby calf. He had tried to back away before either of them noticed him, but he tripped over a lounge chair and fell into the bushes under the window.

The resulting crash brought Dustin and Steve to said window. Steve threw open the window and looked down.

“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “What are you doing here?”

Steve looked at his watch. “Whoops! Your lesson was over a half hour ago. You mom must be freaking out. Why don’t you go call her and I’ll sort out our lookie Lou.”

Eddie glared. “Are you going to just stand there, Harrington or are you going to help me up?”

“That depends, Munson, why were you out there in the first place?” Steve asked batting his eyelashes at him.

Eddie let his head go slack. “I was coming by to hang out and when I knocked, no one answered. So I came round back to see if anyone was at the pool.”

“I keep telling Dustin he doesn’t need to hit the keys so hard, but you know how he is.”

Before Eddie could say anything, Steve had leapt out the window to the ground next to him. He turned around and offered his hand to Eddie.

“Show off,” Eddie groused as he let Steve help him to his feet. He dusted off his backside as Steve righted the lounge chair.

“Come on,” Steve said with a grin. “The back door is unlocked.”

Eddie followed him into the house and through to the kitchen.

Dustin was still on the phone with his mom and when they walked in, he rolled his eyes and mimicked talking with his hand.

“I know, mom,” Dustin finally interjected. “We were just practicing the piece for the talent show and lost track of time. Honest!”

Eddie turned to Steve with raised eyebrows, and mouthed, ‘Talent show?’

Steve looked up and then closed his eyes. He looked down at his feet and nodded.

This was a way better way to spend his afternoon then watching movies on Steve’s big TV.

Finally Dustin got off the phone with his mom. “If I don’t get my butt home my mom is going to kill me. So I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye!” Eddie said cheerfully.

“See you later,” Steve grumbled. Dustin looked back and forth between the two men, but decided his mother was scarier than they were interesting and left.

Eddie waited until he heard the front door slam before he turned to a very red Steve Harrington. “Aww, Harrington, you match your pretty red sweater.”

Steve turned even redder and Eddie grinned. “I teach a bunch of the neighborhood kids to supplement my income. It’s not a lot but it helps.”

“So...how long have you played the piano?” he said leaning on the island counter, head in his hands.

“Since I was eight,” Steve said. “It was the one instrument my parents could agree on.”

“So no trumpet or violin for little Stevie?” Eddie asked, batting his eyelashes.

Steve scoffed. “Dad nixed the violin straight off. One of his business partners’ kids was learning it at the time and he didn’t want to have to ‘compete’ with the other kid. I wanted to play drums.”

Eddie grinned. “Of course you did. I could always ask Gareth to teach you, if you’re still interested.”

Steve laughed, looking up for the first time since Dustin left. “Thank you, but I think Gareth would kill me before the first lesson was over.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “True.”

Steve folded his arms and scratched his cheek. “I also play something else.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “What other secret instrument does the great Steven Harrington play?”

“You have to promise not to tell, because I really don’t want my dad finding out.”

Eddie blinked and then straightened back up. “You have my word, man.”

Steve sighed. “Follow me.”

He led the way to the basement and to this strange door he never noticed before.

“It’s used for storage, mostly the pool stuff in the winter and shit like that,” Steve explained. “So the only people that go in there are the pool guys and they aren’t going to tell my dad fuck all. He doesn’t pay them to talk.”

Eddie nodded. He knew Steve’s dad was a grade A asshole, but the more Steve talked about him the more Eddie hated the man.

Steve unlocked it and let them in. He went straight to some boxes and pushed them out of the way to reveal a small cubbyhole. He reached in and pulled out a guitar case. An acoustic guitar case.

Eddie watched in awe as Steve opened the case to reveal a cherry red six string guitar.

“She’s beautiful, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You can play her?”

Steve sat down on one of the boxes and pulled the pick out from the fret board.

He started playing Carry On My Wayward Son and humming along.

Eddie sat down next to him and watched as this beautiful boy played his heart out.

“That’s pretty good, man,” he whispered when the last chord faded.

“I’m not as good as you,” Steve said with a shake of his head.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Stevie,” Eddie said bumping their shoulders together. “So how long have you been playing guitar?”

“Let’s see it was just after I broke up with Nancy, so...” Steve tried to do the math in his head. “About three or four years.”

“Not bad,” Eddie agreed. “I’ve been playing guitar for as long as you’ve been tickling the ivory, so you really can’t compare us, okay?”

“Is that when you first moved in with Wayne?” Steve asked softly.

“Yup,” Eddie said, popping the P. “He gave me his and taught me how to play.”

“This machine slays dragons, right?”

Eddie beamed. “That would be the one. She’s still a good guitar.”

Steve ran his fingers over the baseboard. “Would‒would you hold on to her until I’ve got my own place?”

Eddie looked at the guitar in awe. “Are you sure?”

Steve nodded. “I don’t want my dad to find her because he will destroy it. And I know it’ll be safe with you.”

“Provided a gate to Hell doesn’t open up in the middle of our trailer again,” Eddie teased.

Steve grinned. “I’ll just have to be sure and come over and play her once and a while.”

“You do that, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “I promise to keep her safe.

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Tag List: @xtkxkrzrizir @flanbott @marvelousforlife @itsfreakingbats @azure-and-gold @garden-of-gay @tauntedperfume

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #steve's hidden talents #dnd #ladykailtiha writes

[purpleheartskies]

This is such a fucking weird question but I really need your help with it 😭 What colours do you associate the most with Robby and Tory? I keep coming with different combinations and I can't decide! I really love your analysis, so I wanted to hear your opinion 🥹

Hi! Thanks for your question! I assumed that you're talking about color theory for personalities, which I'm not too familiar with, so I looked into it. If you meant something else... Well, this was still fun to do, and I hope this still answers your question. 🙂

I get what you mean about coming up with different combinations. There are different color theory charts out there lol, and I was also unsure at first.

This is the first one I found, and I immediately thought of Robby as blue and Tory as orange. Of course, neither is a 100% fit.

Robby as Blue Compassionate and caring - The blue personalities are brilliant at identifying and gauging the feelings of those around them. They thrive when in relationships and they are pretty social and always show compassion towards others. Blue personalities are always trying to ensure that their group is successful and comfortable. If they find someone struggling in their group, they do not hesitate to offer a helping hand.  A blue person is faithful and loyal. You can count on them to stand by you through thick and thin. They have a big heart and are not afraid to show generosity because they want others to follow their lead as well. They are trustworthy and have an enthusiastic nature. Blue personality types tend to put others first and work hard to ensure that they take care of those around them.  They avoid conflict at any cost. If any conflict arises, their basic instinct is to defuse the situation and find a peaceful solution to the problem. They have a sensitive soul and can easily get upset over small things.  People-oriented - Blue personalities love getting praise and appreciation from others. The validation of other people gives them confidence and happiness as it lets them know that they are being heard. They look for opportunities to interact with others as it helps recharge their energy and provides the inspiration they need. Careers that require a high level of collaboration and coordination are best suited for them.  Traditional and rule followers - Blues are not a big fan of change and prefer to do things their way. They are traditionalists and like to stick to their old and tried ways even though they are not the best and most efficient way of doing things. Their inflexibility can often lead to conflict with others. They are unlikely to suggest a new way of doing things or volunteer a fresh idea. They respect things that have endured the test of time and find them reliable. (This part makes me think of Miyagi-Do and how Robby seems to uphold the Miyagi-Do teachings the most. Although Robby also said to fight whichever way works, that's still a Miyagi-Do teaching that Robby adopted.)

Tory as Orange Orange personalities are known for their adventurous nature. Action takers - Orange personalities have too much energy and they are always looking for action so they get to use their boundless energy.  They don’t bother over-analyzing situations and worry too much about optimal direction.  Instead of relying on evidence or facts, they prefer to base their decisions on gut feeling. They are most inclined to go for a riskier path because they find safe options boring. They are ready to take risks because they believe that they can reap bigger and better rewards.  Orange people like to be in control of situations and don’t appreciate being bound by rules and commitments. Spontaneous - Orange people don’t like structure as they find it confining. They get a lot of excitement and energy by living in the moment. Their true joy lies in the present and they don’t spend much time contemplating the past.  Oranges believe that planning dampens the thrill of things as it takes out the spontaneity they crave. Their desire for a thrill can often lead to risky behavior as well.  Orange personalities want freedom in life. They can easily get bored and often seek thrill by competing in dangerous activities. These individuals find it hard to work in one place for a long time and change jobs a lot. Whenever their current job starts being less challenging, they switch in hopes of finding a more challenging workplace.  Social butterflies - Orange personalities love meeting people and being part of a group. They are extroverts and find it easy to mingle with others, especially those who have the same view of the world as them. They have charming personalities that attract others. Their charismatic optimism is contagious and gets them attention without even trying. Their carefree nature makes them popular among people.  Orange personalities do have trouble establishing deep relationships. They don’t have the stamina to commit to a relationship and give it time. (A lot this fits for Tory, outside her rivalry with Sam and Cobra Kai brainwashing.)

Then, I came across this chart below. I also read that people are a combination of all colors but 1 or 2 are dominant in each person, all of which makes sense. I immediately drew a line down the chart for Robby and Tory: Robby is blue and green, while Tory is red and yellow (apparently there's no yellow font option). This one confused me though. It was as common as the chart above, but the blue and green descriptions are switched compared to the chart above.

I kept searching to make sense of it. I came across color theory based on primary colors (Red, Yellow, and Blue) and secondary colors (Orange, Green, and Purple). And looking more, I found some things about warm colors and cool colors. So, like, in the pic below, I think the cool colors blue, green, and purple at the bottom define Robby well, and I think the warm colors red, yellow, and orange at the top define Tory generally well ("sensible" definitely doesn't apply when she's brainwashed though).

Robby Blue represents calmness, intelligence, and trustworthiness. Individuals who exhibit this color tend to be analytical, logical, and detail-oriented. Green represents stability, balance, and harmony. Individuals who exhibit this color tend to be empathetic, compassionate, and nurturing.  Purple is often associated with creativity, spirituality, and imagination. (The blue and green descriptions are switched in the pic and in the descriptions below the pic. I found more than one article that had it this way. Still... confused lol)

Tory Red represents passion, excitement, and high energy. Individuals who exhibit this color tend to be confident, outgoing, and competitive.  Yellow represents optimism, creativity, and enthusiasm. Individuals who exhibit this color tend to be imaginative, expressive, and spontaneous.  Orange represents fun, excitement, and adventure. Individuals who exhibit this color tend to be adventurous, spontaneous, and daring.

And all this made me think about the costume designer's interviews were he mentioned warm colors and color palettes and what he's thinking about when he's picking the wardrobe for the characters. He didn't talk about Tory or Robby much, but he does seem to choose more warm colors for Tory and more cool colors for Robby.

For neutral colors, Tory wears a lot of black.

Black is a classic color that is often associated with elegance, sophistication, and power. People who wear black are often seen as confident and stylish.

She also wears beige sometimes. Maybe it's more a light brown. Both colors seem to have similar descriptions:

Brown is a warm and earthy color that is often associated with stability, reliability, and comfort. People who are drawn to brown are often seen as dependable and trustworthy. They are also seen as practical and down-to-earth.  Beige is a warm, earthy color that is often associated with stability, reliability, and practicality. People who wear beige are often seen as down-to-earth and dependable. 

Tory wears gray occasionally, but it's always paired with red.

Robby wears a lot of gray, mostly paired with blues or greens and occasionally paired with reds. He especially wears grays in scenes were things aren't going good for him, like when Daniel kicked him out both times, when he was arrested, and the whole day of the apartment fight, his shirt inside was gray.

Some interesting notes about gray: Gray positive traits are intelligence, emotional control, wisdom, balance, elegance, objectivity, modesty. Gray negative traits are indecisiveness, isolation and detachment, indifference, and sadness. Neutrality - Gray is impartial and dispassionate, it doesn’t take sides, representing neutrality.  The color gray is subdued, quiet and reserved. Gray is usually an unresponsive color. It truly is unattached, neutral, impartial and also indecisive. Coming from a color mindsets perspective, gray is the color regarding settlement – being neither dark nor white-colored, it does not take changeover between those two colors. It can also be considered as representing balance (being the balance between white and black). Conformity - Gray conforms – it is conventional, dependable and practical.  It is a color of maturity and responsibility, associated with the gray hair of old age.  It will never be the center of attention or the dynamic leader – it is too safe and toned down. Gray is the color of conformism-not having any personality of its own. Humans too show this quality as they adapt to the situation they are in. Compromise - Gray is the transition between two non-colors, neither black nor white.  It takes the middle ground, neither one way nor the other. Control - It has a steadying effect on other colors around it.  Gray is controlled.  Being both motionless and emotionless, gray is solid and stable, creating a sense of calm and composure, relief from a chaotic world. Being both still and emotionless, gray is strong and steady, making a feeling of cool and self-restraint, and alleviates you from a riotous world. It doesn’t invigorate, empower, revive or energize. Gray looks moderate, exhausting, dull and discouraging, but at the same time it looks exquisite and formal, yet never captivating. As gray reaches dark, it becomes extraordinary and also mysterious. Ones who love gray are the ones who try to protect themselves from the world around them. Those peoples prefer a safe and balanced existence, don’t want to hurt their emotions, and control their emotions to avoid an emotional pain.

The first and last pics of Robby above are interesting. When he meets Amanda for the first time (first pic) she is wearing purple and he's wearing a gray button down outside and a red shirt inside. When he meets Carmen for the first time (second pic), she is wearing purple and he's wearing red/black button down outside and a gray shirt inside. It's quite a switch. In both scenes, he's putting on a front. In the first scene, he's confident and in control of the situation (that is the dominant one) as he's choosing this front and the red is inside not outside. In the second scene, he's not the one in control though he's trying to gain some semblance of control over the situation he is in. (At least that's my take on it. Can't be a coincidence that Amanda and Carmen both are wearing purple (also a color symbolizing royalty and these are women he needs to impress) when they meet him for the first time, while he's wearing gray and red but switched.)

In s1, Robby was wearing dark green in his first scene. In his 3rd scene, he's wearing red and black. It's the only time he's wearing red before s4. Then he's goes into more warm colors (maroon, yellow-ish) and neutral colors (black, white, and gray) and eventually starts wearing blues after he starts training with Daniel.

In s4, unlike the other Cobras, he barely wears reds and blacks on their own, other than the Cobra Kai uniforms, during the head shaving incident, and his red suit for prom. Sometimes he doesn't have any reds but just darker shades of blue and green with black, or his reds are always paired with blue or green and sometimes has some browns. The first and only time Robby is wearing a full pink shirt is when he goes to Kenny's house and agrees to mentor him. Robby barely has pinks in his wardrobe. In his s4 finale scene with Johnny, Robby's button down has brown in it and his shirt inside is a maroon.

Pink is a soft and feminine color that is often associated with love, compassion, and nurturing. People who are drawn to pink are often seen as caring and nurturing. They are also seen as sensitive and compassionate. Maroon is often associated with ambition, confidence, and strength. Maroon can also represent wisdom and maturity. Although pink is softer than maroon, the color combos in these scenes are somewhat similar: shades of blue and brown on the outside, pink or maroon on the inside.

The pink in the Kenny scenes and the maroon in the Johnny scene fit the nature of those scenes and the relationships. Robby's weakness is his compassion, especially towards Kenny. Robby will always be more wise and mature than Johnny.

In s5, Robby wears reds at Miyagi-Do and blues at Cobra Kai, which is opposite to the colors that represent those dojos. Definitely some color symbolism going on with these two distinct choices. In s2, for example he always wore blues and grays at Miyagi-Do.

Overall, I think I'll go with the costume designer's choices because they also match how I view Robby's and Tory's personalities: cool colors (blue, green, and purple) with a neutral gray for Robby and warm colors (red, orange, yellow, and brown) with a neutral beige and black for Tory.

What about you? What colors were you thinking of for them?

#cobra kai is robby's story #robby keene #tory nichols #keenry

[eskawrites]

sports anon got me thinking about a ronance volleyball au so headcanon list let’s go

Nancy is a fiercely clever setter, she can take in the whole court and make a decision in a split second and her precision never falters

she has a rough first couple of years dealing with hitters who can’t keep up with her--and jealous hitters who just want every set to go to them (looking at you, Carol). but once she and Robin start working together she really shines

Robin is an opposite hitter (she’d be a great outside too but i lowkey hc her as a leftie so she’d do great as an opposite, plus the backwards set-spike combo is so fucking beautiful)

a setter who consistently sets to her opposite over her outside would also probably throw people off, at least in shitty midwestern public school leagues (yes this is from personal experience), so Nancy and Robin get a few easy points that way

Robin takes a while to find her confidence on the court. they place her front row because she’s taller than most other girls, but she’s clumsy and nervous during her first year or so. no one hits the net more often than her and yes Nancy yells at her about it at some point

she figures it out eventually though. gets her form down, learns to place herself better, gets better at spatial awareness. and once she starts actually trusting herself to do it right? damn is she powerful on the court

even after Robin and Nancy start getting along more, no one actually thinks they’re that close until Robin rolls her ankle during a hitting drill. she’s coming down from absolutely nailing a back row attack and lands directly on a loose ball. it’s actually really harrowing, watching her go from a perfectly controlled jump to a crumbled heap on the gym floor. but no one reacts more than Nancy, who rushes to her side, already snapping at the freshmen who let the ball roll loose, then turns so gentle as she tries to help Robin. she doesn’t leave her alone until they get Robin off the court and their coach forces Nancy to get back to work

it’s not a serious injury, but Robin does have to sit out for a few games. she does her best to play it down so she can keep playing, but Nancy is the one who calls her out on her bullshit and forces her to rest (this is incredibly hypocritical of her and everyone on the team points it out. Nancy tells them all (except for Robin) to shut up)

Max is libero btw. and she’s constantly covered in scuffs and bruises from diving to get the ball, but damn if she isn’t the best passer they’ve ever had

Nancy only paints her nails before a big game. the color doesn’t matter, but the feeling of the polish itself is just enough to make her more aware of her finger placement, so she makes no mistakes while setting (like she makes mistakes anyway

once they get closer, Robin starts painting her nails for her as a way to help her de-stress before a game

Karen Wheeler is volleyball mom. Ted hasn’t been to a game since Nancy was in middle school but Karen has never missed one. she coordinates meals for the team before away games and follows their summer league with plenty of sunscreen and a cooler full of gatorade

Mike is reluctantly dragged along to a lot of Nancy’s middle school games, and once he gets older he fully intends on never going to one again, but once Max joins the team Lucas makes everyone go to support her and him, Dustin, Will, and El are immediately so into it, so Mike finds himself dragged to all of Nancy’s high school games, too

Robin and Nancy both help run the elementary school volleyball camp in the spring. Holly always goes because her big sister is there, of course she does. but the year Robin and Nancy start dating, Holly chooses Robin as her pepper partner every single day. Nancy tries so hard to be jealous, but she can only barely manage to hide how fond she is

Max and Robin pepper whenever they need to have a serious conversation. it gives them both something to focus on that isn’t the heart-to-heart and makes it easier for both of them to open up

Nancy and Robin practice serving together and they’re super competitive about it. Robin has the best jump serve on the team and she can put so much power into it--she’s great at nailing those back corners. but Nancy has this gorgeous topspin to her serve and she can get the ball to drop almost as soon as it clears the net, so she’s great at putting the opponent setter out of commission. every other team in their district hates both of them

Nancy is so damn hard on herself and takes every loss and even some of their victories really personally. after hard games she’ll sit alone at the front of the bus, curled up against the window, going over every little detail of the game and all the things she could’ve done better

she tries to push Robin away when she tries to sit with her, but Robin just stays quietly by her side. eventually, Nancy will uncurl and lean against Robin a little bit, or they’ll talk softly about it

other times, after better games, Nancy will fall asleep with her head in Robin’s lap, and Robin will play with her hair and hold her in place on windy roads so Nancy can sleep peacefully

#ronance #volleyball au