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yuri-is-online · 3 days

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Jade falling in love for the first time and being an absolute loser simp about it.

Yuu lives in his head and fantasies rent free; he can't get enough of them. He wrote about them in his diary (one with a lock on it because floyd likes to snoop). He needs them so bad. It's like that one meme where the girl is like "I need him in a way that's concerning to feminism". He's so desperate someone help him.

Bro has innocent little fantasies of them together, like Yuu waking up beside him and peppering his face in sweet little kisses while he tries to hold them closer and convince them to stay in bed for 5 more minutes (it never really does just end up being 5 minutes though), and then his thoughts just take a sharp turn and what was a sweet little daydream has turned into thoughts of him softly and sleepily fucking Yuu into his mattress. He didn't get to go back to sleep but he's not complaining about it if this is the cost he's paying. The world us cold and hard but you're soft and warm and if fantasies are the closest he's getting to that peace then so be it

He is one jealous eel (he is in deep denial about this but us slowly starting to realize just how far deep into this he us and he really doesn't want to acknowledge that), and he get the most jealous over the most innocent shit too. One day he sees Yuu and Epel talking in a language he doesn't recognize and he's like ???, and it turns out it's their native language but it doesn't exist here so he can't learn it dammit. He sees them struggling to do something and look around the library for help, skipping right over him and asking Ace ir Deuce for help. They've even picked Leona for help before him! Seriously he is RIGHT HERE! what can any of them do for Yuu that he can't?!

Jade has to be careful with his merform around them. Partially because everytime Yuu walks into the room his body suddenly decides to cosplay a laser rave, but also because he's been overthinking shit recently. Yuu is a human, painfully so. They're expecting a human courtship and a human marriage and a human family and a human life and. He can't give that to them. Not unless he stays on land forever, which he might be able to do, but realistically he wouldn't want to. So that leaves Yuu coming to the coral sea where it's cold and dark and he just can't see Yuu doing something like that (he's wrong you've wanted to be a mermaid ever since your cousin made you watch H2O when you were like 7), so now he just trys to be as human as possible around you so he doesn't scare you off.

Also there's the fact that every time spring transitions into summer and he's stuck in his merfirm for the next week and a half and now you really can't see him like this because if he sees you then you're going to be dragged into the water so fast with an 12 foot long eel wrapped around you while he desperately tries to stop himself from being too desperate and start rutting against you and- Oh great seven he's so sorry-

Oh, you like that? Your bringing his face to your neck and fuck you smell so nice and he's biting down and tearing your clothes apart with his claws before he knows what's going on and your legs are wrapping around his tail and-

... Grotto. Where's the grotto he had picked out? He was just in it where is it?

Jade asks you for art supplies in one of his birthday lines so he can draw while he hikes. His "diary" is something Floyd took an interest in once upon a time until he saw it full of mushrooms, rocks, and mountains. Jade still puts a lock on it because he finds it funny looking, but there's more than just mushrooms in there now. Need he's not merely in love he's in need of you and it's affecting his ability to function.

If he wakes up alone in his dreams he will find you in the kitchen, trying to hurry up and make your tea so you can so you can surprise him for once. It never works as he's able to trap you against the counter and breathe down your neck, winding himself around you as you laugh the pure music that he thinks your laugh would sound like as he presses into you so you can feel how much he wanted to to be next to you this morning. How troublesome that he had to go find you and draw out his suffering, not to fret. He loves you so, there's no reason to worry that he won't be gentle with how he lowers you down onto the counter, he'll still prepare you softly but he won't be slow in how he takes you-

He's slow to return to wakefulness, he doesn't mind the cold because it makes him feel at home but he does not like being alone. Loving you is a lot like losing you because he becomes so aware of how he is alone. Jade sees himself as a good person to ask for help, he does not think he is wrong in his benevolence but perhaps that's exactly the problem. Perhaps you know what trifling thing he is working towards obtaining and find him unworthy, Epel can speak to you in ways he can't (to ask you to teach him your speech is an option of course but he knows it's too intimate a thing to ask of you now), those fools found you first and treasured you when he made the awful, idiotic mistake of thinking you boring so of course you would see him in the same way. Of course you would feel safer asking things of Leona, he's the one who saved you while Jade was helping Azul drown you and it's not like he did much to make you see him when you stumbled into the Lounge running away from Jamil. You asked Leona for help, you came to them by accident, and Floyd was the one who got to carry you. Something he definitely didn't make fun of him of him for being jealous about. "Ya got to wake your mate up and see what they looked like sleepin' wasn't that nice?" Oh how he hard he wanted to punch his brother for that. So he did. It made him feel much better.

It takes time but he manages to weave his way into your orbit. He gets to see more of you, and he feels conflicted. The octotrio has gotten to see a lot of humanity, and they feel like they have enough of a grasp on them to conduct their business. That's something that certainly contributed to his thinking of you as boring of course but well. The more he sees of you now the more he realizes how little he really knows about humanity and the surface, he might not see the appeal of the surface world but he sees the appeal of you. Still he knows he wouldn't be happy if he stayed on it forever, how could he possibly ask the same of you? There's barely any sunlight under the water and humans need that to survive... he's done his research on corners of the internet he would have just laughed at before he fell for you and he knows what they say. That humans and merfolk only seldom stay together in the way that he wants, that they find his sort of merfolk to be terrifying. It can't help that he was your enemy at first can it...

I sort of like the idea that Yuu's interest in the less than human looking boys would be considered weird. The concept of a monsterfucker isn't foreign exactly but a monster-marry-and-raise-a-family-er is. There is a difference between a relationship and a sexual fantasy and Yuu sees no reason they can't have both, to the chagrin of damn near everyone around them. So it makes you sad to see him hide himself away from you and wonder why he hates his own beauty so much. He keeps his teeth from you, tries to hide his merform too and you just don't understand why. His bioluminescence takes your breath away and fills you with such soft stirrings of attraction you cry into your pillows and write 10 more pages about how desperately you want to drown yourself for just one chance with him! But he's running away from you and now Azul tells you he's going to be out of commission for a solid week with a sigh that you know is theatrical but still worries you. So you confront Jade about it and he seems almost sick, unable to control his transformation as he displays for you winding around the bubble that keeps you breathing outside of Octavinelle's dorm. The lights take your breath away long before he breeches the bubble to press up against you and moans somewhere deep into his throat letting his instincts guide him for just a few blissful seconds before he flops back with a stammer because oh no, not like this never like this please forgive him and run back to-

He's not expecting to be pulled back, you look as hungry as he feels as you guide him to your neck and whine something about how you need him when he's the one supposed to be saying that and scream in radiant joy when he bites. You are trying to wrap around him, to grind into him, babbling in frustration trying to scratch at his shoulders for a grip so you can wind your legs tighter around him-

He pushes the bubble away from the entrance and steers it haphazardly back, there's a place for this. Safe, secluded, and warm he made sure to pick one where a bit of sunlight could still reach the sandy floors and fuel you as he finally takes what you were always willing to give. Slowly and softly until he has you relaxed into his trap and then oh so gently for all the time after.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #twst smut #suggestive

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in-another-april · 17 hours

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spence with a partner that’s obsessed with him? not in a creepy unhealthy way but more like just really in love and attracted to him, always clingy and affectionate

this is so real!! i have an old oneshot that's similar to this here, but its from forever ago soo im writing another one bc i love this prompt

There is so much to love about Spencer. You really can't help that you're completely infatuated with him. I mean. Just look at him!!

When you're laying with him, and he's all adorable and sleepy, you reach out to trace along his features. Brushing your fingers up and down his face, committing every part of it to memory (as if you could ever forget something you love so much.) He always leans into it, humming happily and pushing further into your touch, like a cat.

It's easy to get lost in him, murmuring absentmindedly about how pretty he is, how much you love him (and his face!) Sometimes, he gets too blushly and giggly that he just buries his face in your chest, avoiding your affectionate stare (he can't even lie, he loves it so much.)

You like to just. watch him sometimes. You insist that you're not staring, you're admiring (...he doesn't seem to buy it.) He really can't complain too much, though, not when he does the exact same thing to you (that's different!! he insists. it is not.)

He likes to think he's used to it, for the most part, but it still manages to fluster him at times. Sometimes, he just says something so smart and you're just so proud to call him yours. Your eyes lock onto him as your mind just blanks on every thought that isn't him!!

And that's when it hits him, muttering a "I can't focus when you look at me like that" that comes out as way more of a whine than he wanted it to. Sighh, what did you do to him?

masterlist | inbox ♡

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna @khxna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #x reader #reid x reader

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sodaabaa · 3 days

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reunited a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

tw: none

Five months. That’s how long I’d been trapped with Tamlin and his court of thorns. Once upon a time I was happy here, happy with him. Now, it took everything I had to control myself from scratching his eyes out every time he looked at me. Every word he said, every condescending explanation he gave me as to why he thought, why he believed that Rhys had manipulated my mind, drove me insane. Leaving this godforsaken place with Rhys all those months ago was the best decision I’d ever made. Now I was stuck here all over again. Caged in a rose covered prison, suffocated by piles of tulle and chiffon and silk.

I hadn’t shown Tamlin, or anyone, any of the powers I had. I didn’t tell him what I was. Rhys and Amren had figured out that I was an angel. Centuries before the fae emerged, angels ruled the heavens and the Earth. Once the fae were created after years of evolution, the angels died out. But while the physical form of these beings may cease to exist, their souls don’t. Their souls are still here, roaming through the heavens. I guess the angels knew war was imminent in my lifetime so they breathed an angel’s soul into me when I was born and I’d gone all those years unknowing of what I was, what I was capable of. Until I had found out what Amarantha had done to Rhys.

As if one cue, a piece of paper appeared on my nightstand with a coal black pen.

“You’re thinking about me aren’t you” I could hear his arrogant smirk in those words.

I smiled, that bastard always knew, even if we were thousands of miles apart. I picked up the pen to write back but as I was doing so, the door opened and I quickly hid it under my pillow. My smile fell.

“I brought you some paints.” Tamlin paused, unsure of what to say next.

I merely looked out the window and said, “I have no inspiration.”

He frowned, “you’re in the Court of Spring, what more inspiration do you need?”

The swirling night sky. The shimmering golden lights of the City of Starlight. His black, satin wings that carried the midnight sky with him.

Oh, how sweet, your description of my city and my wings flatters me darling.

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from smiling like a fool.

Tamlin must have taken great offense to my comment, he left without giving me a chance to respond. Good.

I anxiously pulled out the pen and paper.

“He could have seen the note, be careful next time you prick.”

I set the items on the desk and within seconds it vanished, and reappeared just as fast.

“I miss bickering with you. I miss you.” Such simple words yet my heart ached with longing.

I wrote back, “I miss you too. Just a few more days, I need to convince him to side with us.”

The paper vanished and never returned.

I shifted in the bed I’d been in for hours, refusing to socialize with anyone at the manor. Everyone was blindly loyal to Tamlin and I knew if I left the manor grounds, they’d instantly report to him so I had no reason to even bother faking a smile towards those vipers. I looked out to the night sky, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the velvety blue skies of the Night Court but it was still a reminder of who ruled those skies and it comforted me regardless. With that thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The voices of Tamlin and Lucien could be heard from a mile away. They were arguing over my freedom. I paused on the stairs, my blush pink dress swaying with the movement.

“How long are you going to keep her locked up hm? You can’t keep her here forever.” Lucien spat.

“Until Rhysand isn’t a problem anymore. Until I know he won’t come to take her again.”

I rolled my eyes. Imagine being deluded enough to think you could beat Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. I scoffed. Their heads turned in my direction. I covered it by clearing my throat and smiling, resuming my path down the stairs.

“Good morning my love.” I held back a gag.

Tamlin smiled, the fool really thought I was in love with him. “Good morning, we were just finishing up our conversation.” He shot a pointed look at Lucien.

I smiled, lips in a thin line. He wanted to keep me locked up like a prisoner, still.

I took a seat between Tamlin and Lucien. “Can we speak in private please Tamlin.”

He gave me an exhausted look, he knew what I was going to ask. Despite that, he sent Lucien away with a wave of his hand.

“I know what you want to say and you already know my answer.” He said.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“It’s been three months since I saw something outside these walls. Send an escort of guards with me if you want but let me go somewhere, anywhere.” I shouted.

He looked at me through his brows. “You know better than me, I could send an army of guards with you and Rhysand would slice through the brigade like butter to take you away. I won’t risk it.”

He was standing now, trying to intimidate me into compliance.

“And I won’t be kept here like a prisoner! In what world is this love?”

“I’m protecting you!” He growled

“You’re suffocating me!” I yelled.

“Enough. There will be no further conversation about this matter.”

I stilled. And then I felt it. I could sense him before he’d even arrived. I looked past Tamlin and to the doorway.

Rhys.

He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, ever the nonchalant High Lord. His violet eyes looked over me head to toe, scanning for any signs of injuries.

Tamlin must have noticed I was looking past him and turned. He moved to shield me, beginning to shift into a beast. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in my body was shouting for me to run to him. So I did.

Tamlin shouted after me and guards ran in but they froze as soon as they ran into the room. It felt as if I’d been running for miles before I crashed into his chest, he stumbled back but his arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. My entire being relaxed into the embrace as I held him tight.

“Miss me?” He breathed into my ear.

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded into his neck. He let me down just as Tamlin was approaching, rage burning in his eyes.

I stood in front of Rhys as Tamlin began charging. I crossed my arms and Tamlin met with a wall of light. He bounced back but got up instantly. Like twin flames, Rhys and I let out our wings, his midnight black wings contrasting with my soft white.

Tamlin froze, he hadn’t known about my abilities.

“What are you doing? He’s manipulating you, turning you against me.”

I scoffed. “You turned me against you.”

“I love you.” He said in a not so loving tone.

“Rhys loves me. And I him.”

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away and lunged for Rhys who easily dodged his advances.

“You’ve gone soft Tamlin.” Rhys taunted.

Tamlin lunged again, this time he managed to grab Rhys, who was unimpressed.

“I’m going to skin you alive.” He said through his teeth.

Rhys merely rolled his eyes and looked at me as if to say, ‘look at this guy.’

Rhys grabbed Tamlins arms and twisted them, kneeing him in the gut and throwing him onto the floor all in one swift motion.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to even land a punch, dear Tamlin.”

This time, Tamlin didn’t get back up. Rhys was holding him down with his mind.

“We’ll spare your life on one condition.” I spoke to him.

His nose flared, he’d rather die than submit to Rhys.

“You ally yourself and your army with us for the war. Hybern will slaughter your people and take your court as soon as the war is over and you know it. Don’t lead hundreds of innocent lives towards their death because of a grudge you hold towards Rhys.” I continued.

“I’d sooner die than work with him. And you. After all I did for you, traitor.” He spat.

I could feel the anger roll off Rhys. He stepped in front of me but I grabbed his arm.

“After all you did? After Amarantha, I was wasting away. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. And all you did was lock me up like a caged animal. You couldn’t even look at me longer than a second.” My voice rose.

“Do you know what the first thing Rhys did to me when he took me away on our wedding day?” I didn’t give him the time to respond.

“He looked at me, listened to me, he made me feel alive again. It’s ironic isn’t it? Living in the Spring Court where all bloom to life. Except me. I withered away like a dead rose. But I blossomed with Rhys at the Night Court, the realm of death so many call it, but it breathed life into me again.”

Tamlin stared, blank. “Go to hell.”

With that, I left the Manor and let Rhys have his fun.

We landed in Velaris, my beloved City of Starlight. I was ecstatic and Rhys felt it as we walked up the steps to the town house. Home. The word kept repeating in my head, I still couldn’t believe it.

When we walked in, we were greeted by Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They kneeled as we stood in the doorway.

My hand slipped from Rhys’ and I ran towards them, dropping to my knees.

“Please don’t kneel. I just want a hug from each of you.” Tears fell from my eyes. I missed these four with my whole heart. Last I’d seen them, Cassian’s wings had been shattered, Azriel and Mor were bloody and bruised. I was worried sick.

They all hugged me at once, I was squished in between the four of them. I let out a laugh as we withdrew from the group hug and Rhys chuckled behind me.

“You bastards never react that way when I come home.” He walked towards us.

Amren sent daggers at him with her eyes.

“Maybe we don’t like you as much Rhys.” Cassian said.

“Then maybe you can find a place at the Court of Nightmares instead of Velaris, Cas. They’d be happy to take in an invalid such as yourself.” He threw.

Cassian shook his head laughing. “You’d miss me too much.”

The five of them began to bicker, their voices booming throughout the house. My eyes fleeted between them, trying to keep track of who was saying what.

I smiled, It felt like I never left.

#acotar #rhysand #acomaf #feyre archeron #rhysand x reader #acotar fanfiction

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laurfilijames · 2 days

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Easy Access

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse. Creampie. Semi-public sex.

Summary: Unable to keep your hands off of each other since Will's return home from tour, going to a party at Benny's proves to be no exception, especially when he discovers you're not wearing any panties under your sundress.

A/N: It is so rare that Will is smiling and happy so I've made it my mission to give him every ounce of joy he deserves and packed it all into one delicious fic for you, all while indulging in the slutty "bend me over and fuck me in a sundress" fun which is still very much IN 😤 I am also celebrating my 1 year Charlie-versary of when I posted my first fic for one of his characters, which just so happened to be Will Miller, Breathe.

---

Three days had passed since Will returned home, meaning it had been three days since either of you stepped foot out of the house.

Keeping your hands off of each other since the moment they made contact again was proving impossible, your attempt at making up for lost time a challenge both of you had eagerly accepted.

Even now as you sat in his truck on the way to Benny’s, Will had his hand planted firmly on your bare leg, your short sundress giving some relief from the sweltering summer weather, but his palm felt like it was on fire the longer it lingered there, spreading a heat through your whole body that rivaled the sun beaming in through the open window.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

“Do we have to go?” you joked, tilting your head as you squirmed in your seat, seeing his smile grow into a chuckle that you had missed more than you ever thought possible.

“Yeah, we do. Unfortunately we can’t stay locked up in the house all week.”

His eyebrows rose on his forehead when he looked at you, and when he tucked his lip between his teeth after he stopped speaking, you wondered how much effort it would take to convince him otherwise.

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze as he looked forward at the road again when the light turned green.

“I know you’re looking forward to seeing your brother.”

Will nodded in response, using his free hand to turn his truck left onto the next street. “Yeah, I am.”

Benny had deployed nearly two months before Will had, Pope along with him, and with Frankie, Tom and Will all on their own tours, this was one of the longest periods they had all gone without seeing each other.

Frankie had arranged it all, gathering everyone together for a dinner at Benny’s as a reunion, the need to celebrate each of them returning home safe a priority and perfect excuse to smoke a giant slab of meat and toss back some beers.

“We won’t stay too late,” Will assured, stealing a glance over at you again, his eyes traveling up your legs to your chest that bounced along with the movement of his truck over each bump in the road.

“We can stay as long as you want, Will. I can’t keep you all to myself forever.”

A sort of growl mixed in with his laugh as he shook his head and tried his best to focus on driving, and you felt your pulse quicken as you watched his hammer in his thick neck.

“See, sweetheart, that’s where you’ve got it wrong.”

He pulled onto Benny’s street, slowing down as he approached his brother’s house and found a spot not far down from it, parking his truck behind Catfish’s.

Unfastening his seatbelt, he leaned over the console to get closer to you, his expression somewhat serious even though the hint of a smile played on his gorgeous lips.

“All I want is to hide away with you forever,” he admitted, making your heart feel as if it would burst in your chest.

Before you had the opportunity to say anything in response, Will reached over to close the space between you, his left hand cupping the side of your face to keep you in place as his mouth crashed into yours, a surprised gasp that turned into a soft moan tumbling off your tongue as his danced with it.

It was dizzying, the passion in that kiss and every one that had come before it since his return unlike anything you had experienced before, the crave you felt to taste him on your lips again and again an addiction you could never be rehabilitated from.

You heard him chuckle quietly after he had pulled away, his thumb rubbing your cheek while you kept your eyes closed, almost feeling afraid that if you opened them, he wouldn’t be there. Everything you did in the last three days felt otherworldly, too perfect to be real, and even now you let your fingers dig into the tattooed skin on his forearm just as you had so many times already in order to believe he was actually there with you.

A sigh of relief blew past your lips when you finally did open your eyes, finding him staring back at you with a warmth that made his eyes seem to glow in the late afternoon sun, the smile he flashed at you grounding you just as much as it disarmed you.

“I wish we never had to leave that bed,” he purred, moving to pull the handle to open his door to step out.

“Who said we can’t carry on what we do in bed anywhere else?” you replied, cheekily, grinning in reaction to seeing his eyebrows raise high on his forehead in amusement as he walked around the front of his truck and over to the passenger side, giving you a somewhat warning look as he opened your door for you.

“You’re playing with fire, here. Better watch yourself.”

You chewed on the side of your lip as you hopped out of your seat, feeling mischievous in knowing he had yet to discover your dirty little secret, excitement mixing with arousal as you wondered how he would react when he noticed.

Closing your door, you met him at the open door of the back seat, standing to the side as he reached in and grabbed a dish off the floor, leaving another that contained one of the other appetizers you had prepared for you to carry in as he lifted the small cooler full of beers out of the bed of the truck.

You made a point of leaning in as far as you could to reach it, bending at your waist as much as you could even though it wasn’t necessary due to the height of the truck, but knowing this angle would allow for him to see your bare ass.

“Are you not wearing any panties?” he asked, surprise and amusement in his voice, the expression on his face matching when you stood upright and faced him.

You grinned and shrugged, watching his sly smile reach his eyes that were now tinged with a darkness that you knew was lust.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he huffed, slamming the door shut before turning to step onto the sidewalk. “Jesus Christ,” he added under his breath, clearly wondering how he was going to manage now.

With satisfaction giving you a spring in your step, you followed, walking up the driveway beside him, hearing music coming from the backyard along with the familiar laughs of your friends.

Will paused, quickly meeting your lips in a forceful kiss, the deep breath he took when he parted telling you how hard he was working at keeping his composure before reaching the gate that would lead you into the party.

He flicked the latch on the gate, but grabbed the top of it with his large hand before letting it swing open, blocking the entrance so you were stopped beside him. The look he gave you was stern, adding to the flurry of excitement already pulsing wildly through you, and his voice held a tone that made you hold your breath and your skin tingle, feeling the light, humid breeze tickle the sweat on your legs as your less-than-innocent sundress moved with it.

“If you’re gonna play games like this, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences,” he warned, the corner of his mouth pulling upward ever so slightly as he backed himself against the door to open it, still holding eye contact with you as he let you pass by him.

You didn’t know how long you had been there for, the only thing you knew was that your need for Will was increasing with each passing second and that he seemed to enjoy torturing you, the game you had set up to have him begging for you effectively reversed. It was difficult to keep a steady conversation with anyone - impossible, even - your focus drawn across the yard to wherever Will was standing, seeming to latch eyes with him each time and feeling his locked on you when you forced yourself to look away.

The way he was making you feel almost had you regretting your decision not to wear panties and make it known to him, but as you watched him lick his lips and rub the back of his neck as he half-listened to something his brother and Pope were laughing about, you knew your choices would be rewarded despite him acting like punishment was a more suitable response, and if you were honest, that was exactly what you were hoping for.

You knew you were pressing your luck, sitting down on an old lawn chair, your gaze fixed on Will to make sure he was watching as you blatantly crossed your legs, knowing he could see your naked sex before the overlap of your bare thighs concealed you again.

Despite the somewhat smug grin on your face, your heart was racing uncontrollably, the nerves coursing through you growing at a furious rate as you took in the unreadable expression on Will’s face. You couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused, his arms folded across his chest, his stance sturdy and confident, chewing on a toothpick that he rolled from side to side across his lips with his tongue, and it made you wonder if he couldn’t decide how to feel either.

He shook his head and you noticed his chest rise and fall with a huff before looking away, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth so he could take a sip of his beer that he reached for off the picnic table.

You bit your lower lip, trying to mask your satisfied smirk, and took a deep breath of your own as you attempted to refocus on the conversation happening around you, but you still couldn’t seem to peel your eyes away from Will.

He was clearly trying to do the same, but also failing, and when he stole a look over at you again, you took the opportunity to recross your legs to give him another glimpse of what was his for the taking if he dared.

The crunch of the aluminum can being crushed in his powerful hand seemed to echo in your ears, his eyes steely as he maintained eye contact with you while his other hand subtly adjusted his cock in his shorts that you knew was getting hard.

Will licked his lips before looking back to Benny where he patted his brother firmly on the shoulder, saying something to him as he held up his empty beer can, taking a step in the direction of the garage.

Catching your gaze again, he tilted his head, nodding for you to follow him before he disappeared around the wall of the building.

With your mouth now feeling dry, you downed what was left of your drink and stood, politely excusing yourself from the others who sat near you even though you hadn’t contributed to the conversation in too long a time thanks to your occupied thoughts, your hand instinctively smoothing the back of your dress to make sure you were covered as you walked through the yard.

Looking over your shoulder to ensure no one was following, you rounded the corner only to walk straight into Will who lunged out and grabbed you, laughing as you yelped, your heart stopping from the scare.

“Jesus, Will!”

He continued to chuckle, his smile crooked as he still held the toothpick between his lips, his hands groping at your waist and then lower to your bare ass. You couldn’t help but join his laughter, seeing him smile and be this playful replacing the brief fright with a swell in your heart.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I missed hearing your laugh,” you admitted, resting your hands on his warm chest as he beamed at you.

“Is that so?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, smiling as he dipped in and kissed you, your arms wrapping around his neck while his secured around your back and pulled you against him, able to feel his cock pressing against your body.

“Come here,” he said through a growl, his voice rough and lusty while his eyes continued to hold a playfulness in them, leading you in through the open door and giving the toothpick a flick that landed somewhere on the oil-stained concrete floor.

Walking far enough in so he was sure no one would see you unless they actually came inside the garage, Will wasted no time in planting you against Benny’s workbench, his kisses coming on so forceful and desperate it was hard to keep up.

Both of you were smiling between kisses, completely elated and lost in the thrill of it all, and as much as you had expected Will to follow through on making you pay for your little stunt, it still caught you off-guard when you felt his fingers trail up between your legs to stroke your wet folds.

“Here? Now?” you asked, half squirming and half leaning into his touch, a breathy moan passing your lips as you let yourself succumb to the feel of his index finger pushing inside you.

He peered down at you, his eyes shifting with amusement as you relaxed into him and started to roll your hips. “It's what you wanted, isn't it?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle your sounds of pleasure that he was already coaxing out of you.

“You're lucky I can't get enough of you,” he growled, adding a second finger and hooking them to massage your g-spot. “If you're gonna dress and act like a slut then you're gonna be treated like one.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening against the thin fabric of your sundress, and your eyes closed as he fingered you as perfectly as always. You felt his face draw close to yours, his breath hot on your dewy cheek, his beard grazing your reactive skin as he dipped in beside your ear.

“No one's gonna know…”

You grinned when his lips attached to your neck, the thought of denying this man anything he wanted humourous, knowing that after being apart for as long as you had, nothing could stop you.

It all progressed quickly; your kisses intensifying with each one, the sound of your name coming off his lips as he told you he loved you making you delirious, your hands grasping at each other desperately.

The smell of his shampoo was awoken by your fingertips scratching through his hair, the press of his lips on yours and the way his tongue claimed your mouth while his beard chafed at your chin and cheeks all a reminder that there would never be a day you would be sated of him.

You let your hands slip down his neck and over his broad shoulders, finding a resting place on his thick chest that radiated a warmth that made his cotton t-shirt cling even more to it, and you could feel his heart thrum against your palm before his laugh rumbled through to it.

“The things you make me do, sweetheart,” he chuckled, allowing his hands to leave your body for a moment while he unfastened the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled out his cock.

You returned his smile, yours feeling lazy on your lips from the haziness of lust, and you reached for his cock, smoothing your hand up and down his length until his smile was wiped away and he clutched your jaw with his hand, squeezing it as he kissed you again.

He peppered along down to your neck, his fervor increasing as your reaction to it encouraged him more, the hand that had been gripping your chin falling to your chest where he pawed at you roughly while the other rucked up the skirt of your dress.

“I still don't think you realize how much I missed you, and I’m not even close to being done yet,” he growled, driving his fingers in your soaked cunt again.

You leaned back against the workbench, your hands gripping the edge of it for stability as your head tipped back, allowing Will more access to attack your neck and chest with his mouth, feeling the grittiness of dirt and grime left from Benny’s projects under your fingertips.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, riding his hand without shame.

“Turn around, I wanna see that ass,” he demanded, though his tone was light with mischief.

He removed his fingers from you and aided in spinning you around, kicking your feet apart with his as you hinged forward and resecured your hold on the countertop, his hand trailing from the small of your back where he had pressed with intention to down between your cheeks while lifting your dress back up over the round of your ass.

You moaned, arching back into him, feeling him rub his cock across your cheeks as he continued to finger you from behind, his other hand reaching around to grab your breasts and tug at your neckline.

He gave you a playful spank, but it didn’t come without a sting, making you jolt forward slightly which caused the bench to shake against the wall, his voice gruff but light mannered when he spoke.

“I know you think this dress looks all pretty and innocent on you, but only I know what a whore you actually are in it.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, his words and the way he was hitting the spot that would make you fall apart each time he moved in and out of you causing your arms to break their support, knocking over a few empty beer bottles and cans that sat amidst the rusty tools.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, but not ceasing his pace. “We gotta be quick but not that quick.”

Continuing to prime you to take his size, you heard him chuckle again, his tone completely satisfied and humoured as if he was basking in the fact that he now had the upper hand in the situation.

“How are you gonna manage with no panties after you’re filled up and dripping with my load, huh?”

You sighed out, glancing over your shoulder at him as he proceeded to grin smugly at you, realizing you hadn’t thought this stunt entirely through.

“We’ll call it an oversight.”

Your response only made Will laugh more, the sound of it making your heart sing in seeing him this happy even if it was partially at your expense.

“You could always put it somewhere else?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of swallowing his hot cum while looking up at his pleasured face from your knees that would end up dirty and scuffed.

He shook his head as he lined himself up to your entrance, pushing into your soppy cunt as his voice changed to be slightly gruff. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails raked across the gritty, wood surface as Will bottomed out in you, stretching you completely to fit around his fat cock, the first of his hard thrusts making the workbench slam against the wall.

You cursed under your breath, having him pumping in and out of you a reminder of how hard he had already fucked you that morning, the mix of pleasure and pain making your whines grow to soft cries.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Will asked, the concern in his voice genuine even though he didn’t relent on his pace.

You shook your head ‘no’, pressing your hips back to meet him blow for blow, feeling a tingle scurry down your back at the thrill of it all.

“You know I like it,” you replied, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite the heat when you heard him chuckle in a gratified way.

“That’s my girl,” he grunted, continuing to pound you with ardor.

It was getting difficult to keep quiet, but with how loud the bench was hitting the wall you suspected what you and Will were off doing was no longer discreet to the rest of the party, so you allowed yourself to stop worrying and focus on how good it felt.

Although Will’s heavy panting and rough moans were equally as loud as you were, he gave the occasional warning to quiet down, and each time one of your wails out-did any other noises you were making together, his laugh would ring out, clearly finding the prospect of getting caught hilarious.

“Shit!” Will called out, still through a chuckle, releasing the grip of one of his hands from your hips to grab at a mason jar filled with various bolts, screws and washers as it tumbled down from an overhead shelf. It danced off the tips of his fingers and hit the floor with a loud smash, sending its contents scattering around your feet.

“Will!” you half cried, half scolded, and as you moved slightly to try to see the damage done, your arm knocked a couple of cans off the table to add to the mess on the ground.

“Jesus…” Will laughed, picking up his tempo a bit to quicken getting the job done, the risk growing with each passing second.

The rate at which he was fucking you had you a disheveled mess, the straps of your dress having slipped down your shoulders, and without their security, each hammering thrust continued to shake your body enough until your tits easily fell out.

Nearing your climax, you lost control of the volume of your cries, and in your haze of pleasure, you could barely hear Will telling you to pipe down.

Right when you were about to fall into bliss, Will pulled out of you and roughly turned you around to face him, his hand gripping the side of your face somewhat forcefully before he crashed his mouth against yours to quiet you. His other hand grabbed the flesh of your thigh and lifted it up to lock around his waist, driving back inside you with his cock that was warm and wet from you.

You moaned into his mouth, only to have him force his tongue deeper inside while he resumed fucking you with all he had, moving the hand that had been holding your face down to your exposed breasts.

Like he had given up caring if you were heard, he broke your kiss to look at you, his blue eyes soaking you up as he drank in the heavenly sight before him; your bare boobs bouncing to his movements, the sweat glistening on your chest and neck that made your hair stick to it, your swollen, moist lips that parted as you fought for breath between moans, and then his gaze fell lower where he watched your drenched cunt taking his dick.

“Fuck you are so hot!” he said through a grin, his tone hinting that he couldn’t believe you were his to treat like this.

He dipped back down to your lips, kissing you once before letting his open mouth hang against yours, stealing another glance at where your bodies connected and crude, squelching sounds came from.

“I missed this fucking pussy so much,” he muttered, his lips teasing yours as he did, and unable to take it anymore, you reached your hand around his neck and pulled him against you, kissing him fiercely while driving your hips into his to grind on him roughly.

Broken kisses continued their attempt at suffocating your sounds as you found a rolling rhythm that would see you to your end, your hands desperately tearing at Will’s thick, sweaty flesh through his damp t-shirt.

A violent orgasm ripped through you, forcing Will to press his lips harder against yours to drown out your cries, burying himself deeper inside your walls that choked his throbbing cock, your leg wrapping around his plump, half-bare ass to help ensure he didn't leave you as you rode out your high.

Even if he wanted to hold back, he wouldn't have been able to, your climax inducing his own, his thrusts slamming and stuttering as he pumped you full with aggressive spurts of cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he smiled against your lips, his forehead resting on yours as you both panted for breath, drunk on each other and completely spent.

You giggled, the thrill of your naughty behaviour adding to the post-fuck euphoria, feeling the rumble of Will’s laugh resonate through your body as he remained inside you.

He pulled away from you enough to peer down at you, his eyes heavy and lusty but crinkling at the sides as he smiled lazily at you, his cheeks blushed and covered in drops of sweat, his blond hair darkened from his efforts.

He continued to smile at you as he fixed the straps of your dress, his fingers gently and lovingly grazing your shoulders as he did, looking at you so adoringly that you could never deny how much he had missed you while he was away.

“I really like this dress,” he spoke softly, his fingers trailing down to trace the material that hugged the curve of your breasts, bringing his face close to yours as he pinched your nipple and tugged it, making you moan and arch toward him.

He kissed the space between your ear and neck, and growled as if he was already fighting to restrain himself again. “But I’m gonna rip it off of you at some point and ruin you completely.”

Will’s teeth nipped along your jawline, and before he pressed his lips on yours, looked at you with a dark, promising look that had your body set aflame all over again.

You hummed against his lips, feeling him slip out of you while wondering how much longer you would manage to stay at the party, knowing it would only be a matter of time before you were desperate for him again, and judging by the force of his kiss and the way his hands clawed at your sundress, he was feeling the same.

“You go inside and get cleaned up,” he said, nodding to the door that led into Benny’s house. “I’ll sort all this out.”

You glanced at the mess on the ground he was referring to, broken glass and various types of hardware littered all around you, and being the gentleman he always was, he took your hand and assisted you safely over to the door.

Will tucked himself back in his shorts and promptly located a broom and dustpan, beginning to sweep up when he heard the shuffling of his brother’s footsteps walking into the garage.

Benny stopped, causing Will to look over at him, laughing when he saw the annoyed look on his face.

“Really?” was all Benny managed to get out, his arms outstretched while Will just shrugged and continued cleaning up.

“You two are fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Benny hissed, pushing Will hard on the shoulder as he passed to add more empties to the disrupted collection on the workbench.

Will only laughed harder, dumping what he had accumulated in the dustpan into the garbage as Benny grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him, knocking his bottle against his and then twisting off the cap to take a sip.

“It’s good to see you happy, man,” he said, clapping his hand on Will’s back before heading out of the garage and back to the party.

---

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pin-k-ink · 2 days

Text

cotton candy // oikawa tooru

tw ⇢ none. absolutely none…i think.

wc ⇢ 3k

a/n: there’s no special reason as to why i named this fic ‘cotton candy’ other than the fact that i’m craving cotton candy right now

Oikawa Tooru had been caught staring off into space one too many times lately - a dreamy, uncharacteristically lovestruck expression plastered across his usual smug mug. If his teammates noticed his distractingly dopey smiles during practice, they knew better than to call him out on it. At least, not when the source of Oikawa's endless endearing habits sat just a few rows over in their shared lecture hall.

You'd think after finally landing an actual date - let alone an official girlfriend - with his latest object of affection, the self-proclaimed playboy would have dialed it back a notch or two. But no, your acceptance of Oikawa's advances had only turbocharged his ardor into maximum overdrive.

"Dude, put your tongue back in your mouth before you choke on it," Hanamaki muttered in a tone thick with second-hand embarrassment. He not-so-subtly gestured towards the front of the hall, where you sat obliviously taking notes.

Oikawa blinked dazedly, pulling his sappy gaze away from the back of your head long enough to flash his friend an exaggerated pout. "Iwa-chan, Makki's being crass and horrible again!" he whined petulantly.

From Oikawa's other side, Matsukawa poorly stifled a wheezing laugh into his palm as Iwaizumi simply pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Can't you keep it in your pants for just one goddamn lecture?" he grumbled, side-eying his hopelessly enamored vice-captain.

Rather than seem even remotely chagrined, Oikawa's expression melted back into that same moony, fond look from earlier. He propped his chin in his hand, tracking your every micro-movement with shameless ardor.

"Look at her though," he murmured in a disgustingly affectionate coo. "She's just so gosh darn pretty, especially when she gets that little crinkle between her eyes while concentrating."

A beat of silence passed before Hanamaki made an overly dramatic retching noise into his notes.

"Ugh, get a room already, loverboy!" he griped, shoving at Oikawa's shoulder roughly. "All this love propaganda is gonna leave me single forever."

Oikawa simply waved off his friend's snarky remarks, completely unfazed as his dazzling infatuation remained locked onto you. A blissful little sigh escaped his lips when you politely raised your hand to ask a question, your melodic voice washing over him like a trance.

"I swear, if Shittykawa doesn't quit zoning out every two seconds and lets this thing slip through his grabby little hands..." Iwaizumi grumbled under his breath.

Despite Oikawa's teammates' incessant grumbling over his constant lovestruck ditziness, nothing could shake him from your unintentional thrall. If anything, your radiant presence only seemed to amplify his habit of getting flustered into a stammering, blushing mess.

Case in point: the two of you were supposed to be enjoying a casual study date between classes. Oikawa had whipped out his usual million-watt smile as you'd strolled up, immediately leaning in for what he assumed would be an innocent greeting peck.

Only for his lips to graze your cheek just as you happened to turn at the last second, inadvertently capturing your own soft kiss in a searing, knee-weakening lip-lock.

A strangled squeak tore from Oikawa's throat as he jerked back, eyes blown wide in surprise and cheeks flaring crimson. He stared at you in utter dumbfoundment, utterly disarmed by the sweet intimacy of your momentarily intertwined mouths. Meanwhile, you simply offered a shy giggle and shimmied into the seat beside his frozen form.

"Aren't you smooth?" you teased, nudging his rigid side playfully.

Oikawa's mouth worked uselessly for several moments before he finally spluttered, "I-I, uh...y-yes! The smoothest!"

Somehow, the flustered bravado in his proclamation only made his lingering blush that much more endearing. You shook your head fondly, quite accustomed to his particular brand of cringeworthy flusteredness.

"Come on, Casanova, we've got work to do," you chuckled, slinging an arm around his waist in a casual side-hug.

Oikawa squeaked again - an embarrassingly high-pitched sound for a 6-foot athlete - before hastily clearing his throat into a bodly fist. Still, the bashful smile tugging at his lips refused to fade as he guided you through the study materials with one arm slung around your shoulders. His rich umber eyes kept drifting towards you in unbridled adoration, drinking in every scrunch of concentration furrowing your brow.

Needless to say, not all that much productive studying actually ended up happening thanks to Oikawa's hopelessly distractible infatuation. By the time your group let out for the evening, he could have sworn his heart had galloped a million miles during each accidental brush of your knees or gaze catching his.

Which is why, of course, he naturally defaulted to his favorite brand of pageantry in a bid to impress and fluster you all over again. Oikawa bounded onto the court decked out in his full knee pads and game attire, twirling the volleyball between his palms with unnecessary flair.

"Care to stay and watch your Captain's pre-practice routine, gorgeous?" he lilted, punctuating the invitation with an overexaggerated wink.

Your responding laugh and amused eye roll was like music to his love-addled ears. "I guess I could spare a few minutes," you acquiesced at last. "Maybe cheer for you loudly and embarrass you in front of your teammates?"

Oikawa stumbled mid-flourish, nearly spiking the ball directly into his own startled face. "N-Now you're just being mean!" he pouted, deftly recovering into a theatrically wounded expression.

Still, his eyes sparkled with unabashed glee watching as you settled into the front-row bleachers, utterly enraptured despite your teasing threat. Squaring up that million-watt grin of his, Oikawa gave an overly dramatic courtly bow before bouncing back to bask in the warmth of your full, undivided attention showering over him.

Practice that evening was singularly, gloriously mindless. Each impressive spike, soaring set, and diving defensive dig flowed as naturally as breathing - all simply serving as additional plumage for Oikawa's unending mating ritual aimed directly at you.

By the time his teammates convened for their usual cool-down stretches, Oikawa was practically glowing with gratification and endorphins. Matsu and Makki shot him their usual long-suffering looks of disgruntlement while Iwaizumi merely grumbled something about "extra laps for showing off."

Oikawa paid their eye-rolling no mind whatsoever. He was too busy bounding over to where you lingered by the safety railing, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Grabbing an extra towel, he vigorously scrubbed the perspiration from his brow and neckline.

"So, how did I— mmPH!"

His not-so-smooth attempt at soliciting praise was promptly cut off by your impulsive tug on his practice jersey. The slightly scratchy material went taut as you pulled Oikawa flush against you, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that robbed the boastful tease of whatever self-satisfied line he'd been gearing up for.

When you finally released him, Oikawa staggered back on unsteady legs, looking thoroughly kissed into dazed submission. A lopsided, deliriously goofy smile split his flushed face as he gazed at you in absolute awestruck reverence.

"...Perfect," he breathed, fingers skating over his tingling lips in disbelief. "You were...perfect."

In which case, perhaps getting disgustingly, hopelessly whipped was the greatest thing to ever happen to Seijoh's Captain after all.

Oikawa's relentless infatuation showed no signs of waning once you two stepped off campus grounds. If anything, his overwhelming need to dote and fawn over you only amplified in public settings.

Take your first official date night, for instance. Oikawa had insisted on making dinner reservations at the trendiest new fusion restaurant in town - the type of sleekly modern establishment that required sending the hostess a 300-word compelling essay on why you deserved a coveted table.

Despite the unnecessary extravagance, you couldn't help feeling charmed by his transparent eagerness to thoroughly impress you from the moment you stepped through the artisan ceramic entrance. Oikawa was on his A-game from the start, gallantly pulling out your chair with a flourish before showering you with a barrage of flattering compliments.

"Has anyone ever told you how incredible your eyes are in this lighting?" he fawned, chin propped in one hand as he gazed at you with unabashed rapture. "That hue is just...exquisite."

You ducked your head with a bashful giggle, trying to ignore the curious side-eyes from neighboring tables. "You're being ridiculous."

"No, I'm being factual!" Oikawa retorted with a scandalized gasp. He made a show of leaning across the table to brush a lock of hair from your cheek, practically radiating a halo of hopeless doting. "Why, they remind me of a spring meadow sparkling with morning dew. Simply captivating."

By dessert, you were practically melting into a liquefied puddle of second-hand embarrassment over his grand romantic gestures. Because of course Oikawa simply had to sweep you up into a melodramatic ballroom-style dip on the sidewalk outside while bidding you goodnight. Plush lips ghosted a hair's breadth from yours as he cradled you in an effortlessly practised show of strength.

"Until next time, my radiant flower," he breathed in a devastatingly sultry register.

You could only manage a strangled squeak in response, utterly spellbound by Oikawa's smoldering proximity searing away all coherent thought. Right on cue, a chorus of dreamy female sighs echoed from the sidewalk crowd that had gathered - a small live studio audience swooning for his swoon-worthy antics.

As if pre-scripted, Oikawa's decadent mahogany gaze slid sideways to drink in the admiring scene with his trademark self-satisfaction. That confidence only faltered when he realized each enamored female was fixing you, not him, with hopeless looks of envy and yearning.

You watched in slack-jawed awe as those iconic Oikawa brows proceeded to furrow into the most uncharacteristic, childishly bereft pout. Clearly, not being the sole object of infatuation didn't sit well with the former serial flirt. Not anymore.

With a sharp huff, he whipped you both upright before looping a possessive arm around your waist and sweeping you off down the street. Oikawa angled his body like a shield between you and the gaggle of admirers, never once breaking that adorably petulant moue of concentration.

"Pay them no mind," he finally huffed after a full block of your curious side-glances. "They're simply jealous because the most gorgeous person in the universe already belongs to me."

Any reservations over his bold statements were promptly dissolved by the blazing earnestness Oikawa leveled your way. You bit back a goofy grin as he hugged your smaller frame closer against his sturdy warmth, every action simply dripping territorial ardor.

"Of course, my narcissistic darling," you teased, leaning up to brush a chaste kiss against his scowling mouth.

Oikawa's indignant grumbling instantly melted into a dreamy sigh, expression slipping back into shameless infatuation as you two continued merrily on your way. Each flicker of returning humility seemed to last mere seconds before his swaggering self-indulgence and confident preening reasserted itself anew.

It was a never-ending rollercoaster of egoism and moonstruck timidity that you quickly learned to accept as simply...well, your Oikawa being Oikawa. Especially in public forums where he could properly flaunt and cherish you.

One sunny Saturday morning downtown proved to be a veritable whirlwind tour of his bi-polar courting. You had suggested doing some casual windowshopping and small bites touring since the weather was so lovely out. Oikawa readily agreed, perhaps a bit too hastily, given how you ended up spending the first hour looping back and forth across the same three-block radius.

"Oooh, that dress would look stunning on you!" he practically squawked on your fourth lap past the trendy boutique window display. "Hold on, I'll buy it right now."

His sneakered feet worked double-time as Oikawa hustled towards the store entrance, ready to sweep through the intimate garment racks with all the unflappable determination of an Olympic shopper. You stalled him with a giggling tug on his elbow as he reached for the door handle.

"Babe, calm down! I was just admiring the color, I have enough summer dresses as it is."

For a beat, Oikawa simply gaped at you in utter bemusement, as if his earnest attempts at impressing you had once again short-circuited. But it only took a few stuttered blinks before he puffed up that broad chest in a resolutely self-important fashion.

"W-Well, of course! I knew that," he blustered, tossing his chestnut waves with a dismissive huff. "I simply wanted to, uh, gauge your opinion on whether I have worthwhile taste in fashion trends!"

You side-eyed his see-through self-aggrandizing defense with a bemused half-smile. Rather than call him out, you simply linked your arm through his and gave an adoring squeeze.

"Yes, Tooru, you have exquisite taste as always," you soothed with the gentle indulgence usually reserved for humoring small children.

Oikawa preened shamelessly at your praise, completely unfazed by the hint of playful mocking coloring your words. He was far too busy basking in the reflected glory of your undivided admiration.

Honestly, you wouldn't have traded his ridiculously endearing brand of pompous worship for anything. Not when Oikawa's gaze kept flickering back towards you with those soft, melted chocolate eyes of his - utterly smitten adoration etched across every plane and angle as he seared your image into his very soul.

It was enough to make you wonder which one of you had truly been rendered the biggest, most hopelessly lovestruck fan here.

Either way, your exuberant beau seemed determined to double down and stake his indisputable, over-the-top claim as your biggest admirer - both now and for the foreseeable future.

And oddly enough, you found you rather liked him that way - whipped, incorrigibly smitten, and absolutely, irrevocably yours.

Even in the comfort and intimacy of your shared home, Oikawa's relentless infatuation showed no signs of losing its overexcited edge. Case in point: it was a lazy Friday night in, the two of you curled up for a self-indulgent rewatch of some cheesy rom-com you'd both seen a million times already.

Rather than kick back on opposite ends of the sofa like any other regular couple, Oikawa simply would not allow even a millimeter of space to come between your tangled forms. As the opening credits rolled, he immediately slung an arm around your shoulders and tugged you flush against his side with a contented hum.

You tried to bite back a fond smile at his incurably snuggly antics. "Getting cozy there, are we?"

"Shhh," Oikawa hushed without breaking his rapt fixation on the TV. He somehow managed to gather you even closer into his personal bubble, leaving no wandering limb untwined or uncuddled. "I'm simply ensuring optimal viewing conditions for fully appreciating you - I mean, the movie!"

Chuckling under your breath, you relented to his poorly-covered slip of the tongue and wriggled into a more comfortable position nestled against Oikawa's pleasantly warm torso. You'd learned quickly that he was touch-starved in the most ridiculously endearing way when it came to seemingly mundane couple activities. Any opportunity to drown you in unending physical affection was treated like an all-out spa day in the Oikawa household.

Less than ten minutes into the film, you felt the first ticklish puffs of breath skating across the top of your head. Oikawa had abandoned all pretense of following the well-trodden plot in favor of burying his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. An elated sigh whistled from his nose as he nuzzled even closer, calloused fingers tracing idle patterns across your upper arm.

"You smell like strawberries today," he murmured in approval against your roots.

You squirmed with a snort of amusement. "That's because I used the fancy shampoo you got me for my birthday last week."

As if to confirm this fascinating revelation, Oikawa's nose plunged further into your tresses in a bout of unabashed scent-sampling. He let out a dreamy little hum of contentment, seemingly deaf to the tinny dialogue carrying on across the TV screen.

"Mm...that's my favorite. Albeit not as intoxicating as your natural aroma..."

You wrinkled your nose in a halfhearted show of protest. But just like every other time, Oikawa paid no heed to your feigned objections about excessive doting. He was too busy stroking the shampoo-scented strands with painstaking leisure, mapping every silken texture across his cheek like a massage therapist tending to an expensive wig.

Eventually, the gentle ministrations worked their way down to skirting the warm skin of your neck and shoulder blades. Oikawa traced the delicate junctures with tender fascination, leaning down to dust the barest flutter of an openmouthed kiss here and there. An appreciative shiver danced up your spine in response, eliciting a smug hum of male satisfaction.

"You're awfully handsy tonight," you remarked in a tone caught perfectly between flusterment and amusement.

"Can you blame me?" Oikawa crooned without an ounce of shame. His nimble fingers danced a blazing trail across your collarbone and down the sloping curves of your upper chest. "Having this much perfection nestled against me night after night - it's a miracle I don't ravish you more frequently."

You playfully swatted at his wandering hand, unable to stifle a laugh at his signature brand of melodramatic flattery. "Keep it in your pants, Tooru. I'm trying to watch the movie here."

Rather than heed your chiding, Oikawa took the opportunity to expertly unshoulder your shirt even further to better lavish your exposed skin with greedy, smoldering kisses. "Lies and slander," he growled between indulgent nibbles and sweeps of his talented tongue. "You know full well you're my favorite cinematography to indulge in."

"Ugh, you're hopeless!" you groaned through a fresh peal of embarrassed giggles. Squirming in Oikawa's embrace only spurred him on further, his lips working across your jaw and cheeks in utter disregard for how flushed you were turning.

Just when you thought he might finally give in and settle for simply canoodling, his rich amber gaze flickered up to meet yours - burning with a simmering intensity that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Thick lashes hooded those eyes as Oikawa gave a lopsided, almost predatory grin that screamed "challenge accepted."

"Oh no, lover" he growled in a buttery baritone that brooked no arguments. "For you...I'm perfectly hopeless."

With that, Oikawa proceeded to demonstrate just how hopelessly infatuated he was with you via a searing, breathtaking kiss. It left you dizzied and limp as he eagerly drank in your quiet gasps of submission like an elixir. By the time he pulled away again, the movie lay long forgotten - a distant hum compared to Oikawa's singular worshipful focus claiming you with every heated caress and whispered endearment.

Yup, he was absolutely hopeless. And you deliriously, hopelessly wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu oikawa tooru

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yandereend · 23 hours

Text

Yandere pretty boy

inspired by Dorian Gray

TW: typical yandere stuff, pretty boy, Dorian likes being mean

Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thank you 💛

P.1/? let me know if you want more

He was utterly beautiful, the kind that takes your breath away and makes you hate yourself. The kind that you envy and would kill to be like. The kind that everyone loves but nobody likes. The kind of man that is obsessed with himself.

Dorian was perfect he would describe himself as nothing less than that.

His blond hair framed the delicate features of his face and made his hazel eyes shine like the sun. His toned body was described by his admirers as breathtaking. And his deep voice sounded like that of an angel or an prince.

He was the most popular guy in school and had a group of fans in almost every class. When he was a junior seniors asked him out and now that he’s one himself he rejected everyone who ever asked him out. Everybody hoped to be his first.

Since even if he seemed like a player his standards were too high to be one. He saved himself up to find the perfect match for himself that would rival his beauty.

But now that his senior year was halfway finished he wondered if the right person would ever came. His father would always encourage him to keep on looking for the one, like his father did with his mother.

And thats when you came into the picture. You didn’t have high expectations for your new school, you just wanted to find friends and get decent grades. And everything went surprisingly well until you got asked out by the most magnificent man you had ever seen. You knew Dorian since you shared a few classes with him where he did nothing but stare at his phone (and you).

So you quickly went from the new student to the partner of the most popular guy in school. Many wondered what was so different about you when Dorian rejected everyone else. But Dorian knew, in his eyes you were as beautiful as him, and after he got to know you better after a few dates he finally realized what people meant with „what’s on the inside matters“.

You were more beautiful than him, of course not on the outside because let’s be honest nobody is. But your character was better than his, you are nice, empathetic, friendly and every other positive trait he could think of. And he wanted to reward you.

So he talked with his father and decided to take you to your new home.

You didn’t expect much when he invited you to his house, especially not the biggest mansion you have ever seen. But it wasn’t the outside that caught you off guard, it was what was inside.

Before every window was a thick curtain so that no sunlight was visible inside.

On every wall where either pictures of Dorian and a beautiful woman or mirrors. They were big and small, and you felt like they were following your every step. Dorians room was no different being filled with mirrors and a giant portrait above his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray.

You like it, my angel? He asked seeing you staring at his portrait, while hugging you from behind.

It was made on my 18th birthday to capture my beauty forever.

You looked in awe at the sheer beauty infront of you. So you were surprised when Dorian pulled you out of his room and you went to a separate one.

It had no windows and the only thing in it was a portrait of a family. You felt hypnotized by the sight. The woman in the picture even outshined Dorians beauty

Thats my mother.

The toddler which you made out as Dorian had a lot more cuteness to him than Dorian had now with his more often stern expressions. Just the man stood out like a sore thumb with his just average appearance.

You look just like her. He said like in trance.

You were so enamored with the picture that you didn’t realize that the servants threw away all your belongings which you brought with you and locked all the doors.

You were captured by the most beautiful man, with the darkest desires.

💛Thanks a lot for reading, feel free to share. I don’t think I ever had more ideas to write in a story 💛

#yandere #obsessive yandere #yandere community #soft yandere #yandere core #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere bf #yandere fiction #yandere stories #dorian gray #yandere story #yandere vibe

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yandere-writer-momo · 3 days

Text

Yandere Baki Shorts:

A Little Bit Jealous

Yandere Atsushi Suedo x Fem Reader

A snort escaped (your name)’s lips when Atsushi buried his face into her stomach. His muscular arms wrapped around her midsection, a few huffs escaped his lips.

“What’s the matter, big guy?” (Your name) asked in a teasing tone, her eyes lit up in mischief when he picked his head up. His cheeks flared out in a pout. Sometimes he was so cute… especially when he was jealous.

“You complimented Katsumi… do you like him more than me?”

(Your name) couldn’t help but giggle which only made Atsushi tighten his grip on her. Goodness he was cute… she adored this man.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me… these are important questions-“ (your name) bent down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. The karateka immediately pressed several kisses to hers in return, his arms moved to pull her body flush against his.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as cute as you, big guy.”

“But Katsumi gets a lot more confessions than the other guys… he’s handsome.” (Your name) poked Atsushi’s nose with a smile.

“Do you like Katsumi?”

“No! Ew! He’s like… he’s like my brother!” (Your name) couldn’t help but laugh at Atsushi who curled up into himself like a turtle. His cheeks a bright, cherry red from embarrassment.

“You’re the only man for me, baby.” (Your name) gave him a reassuring smile before she reached forward to give Atsushi’s nipple a pinch. The man quickly released her to hold his sore areola in shock.

“Hey! You know I’m sensitive…”

“You’re my big himbo man and your cute little butt is the only one on my mind.” (Your name) pressed a kiss to each of Atsushi’s cheeks. “You know I love you.”

“I love you too… I just get scared you’re going to leave me for better.” Atsushi expressed his insecurities with sincerity. He may have been the tallest of the karatekas at Shinshinkai, but he was nowhere near the strongest. He couldn’t help but feel inferior to Katsumi at times. He was so inspiring.

“You know I’m with you for the long run. You have never failed to make me feel so safe…” (your name) smiled at her beau who melted into her. Her fingers tangled in his brown locks as she lovingly stroked his scalp. “You can always talk to me, baby. About anything and everything, it’s what I’m here for. I’ll always be here.”

Atsushi smiled, his arms once again wrapped around her body for warmth. Yes… she was his. She was all his! And Atsushi would rather die than let anyone take her away from him. He didn’t want to live in a world where his darling wasn’t around.

Atsushi pressed a kiss to her temple, a dazed look in his eye. What if they just moved to the country side? That way he didn’t have to worry about other fighters possibly catching the eye of his love at the dojo? Yes… that made the most sense.

“Will you stay with me forever then?” Atsushi softly asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“If you don’t get bored of me.” (Your name) giggled when Atsushi began to pepper her with kisses. “Hey! Stop-“

“Then I’ll keep you forever and ever!” Atsushi exclaimed, his hands now pawed at her hips. “I’ll never let you go.”

If only the poor girl knew her adorable himbo wasn’t joking…

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gabessquishytum · 3 days

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dream usually hates traveling for work. he gets overstimulated in airports, his routine is entirely upended, hotel rooms are stuffy and impersonal...but the one thing that he always looks forward to is that, for just a week or so, he's can pretend to be an entirely different person. the knowledge that the people he meets in that city he's visiting are people he'll never see again gives him the confidence to be a different version of himself. if he did something embarrassing in front of people he knows? horrible, 0/10, he's locking himself away in his bedroom forever. but hundreds or thousands of miles away.....? things are different. different enough to flirt at hotel bars, use pickup lines he's otherwise too awkward to actually say aloud, and, his personal favorite, dressing entirely differently, like putting on his skimpy little bikini when he goes to relax in the hotel's pool area. actually swimming is too much effort, but chatting in the hot tub or relaxing nude in the sauna are great ways for him to catch people's attention in a way he normally never would. and if hob is sleazy enough to hook up with a guy in his hotel while he's on a university work conference, what's the damage? it's not like dream and hob work at the same uni in different departments, or anything. it's not like hob and death are friends that will inevitably try to introduce him to dream. or anything like that. definitely not

This is incredible. Like actually incredible.

So: Dream meets Hob at the hotel bar, and then again later on the terrace where Dream is wearing his prettiest little backless dress. They flirt, Dream is giggly and coquettish and Hob is mildly obsessed with him - inevitably they go back to Dream’s room and have absolutely filthy nasty sex until dawn. Dream possibly calls Hob daddy at some point. Hob definitely likes it. He's devastated that he'll never get to see the pretty little slut ever again.

But he does.

Death has been talking about her little brother for ages. He's shy, reclusive and socially awkward. Death is desperate to get him out in the world, but Dream is just like... the worst at interacting with people. Even so, Death has begged Hob to try and at least befriend him - maybe try something more? She promises that Dream is pretty. And Hob is a good friend, so he agrees to meet Dream...

...and finds himself staring at his little slut from the hotel.

But Dream isn't wearing his little dress - he's bundled up in layers of black, not an inch of skin is on show. He stares back at Hob and his complexion gets even paler. Then he excuses himself and bolts to the bathroom. Death shrugs helplessly - that's just Dream! He's so bad with people!

Hob follows him to the bathroom, unable to believe what he's seeing. That confident, giggly, flirty guy is Death's antisocial little brother?! It can't be true. But apparently it is!

And Dream wants the floor to swallow him right up, but somehow instead he ends up in a bathroom stall with Hob holding him up against the wall like he weighs nothing. All he can do is whimper for daddy... as Hob assures him that he's still adorable, even in his smart attire and little wire rimmed glasses. Hob is going to fuck the awkwardness right out of him, and Dream already knows that he is going to enjoy every second of it.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw daddy kink

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nevermoreconfessions · 3 days

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Hey there, buddy. I hope you're having a good day by the time you read this.

Okay, here's the thing, my brain occasionally chooses to remember little details that come back to haunt me and hit me in the skull like a fucking boomerang. And due to the last chapter of the free pass, I come to leave here the one that has bothered me the most lately for you to suffer with me.

Why on earth would Thaddeus want anyone to talk to Lenore and why would Ira consent to that?

No. Seriously. When Annabel tries to ask about Lenore, Thaddeus even denies having a daughter, why would he want to alleviate Lenore's loneliness by asking a young woman about her own age to visit her for company? On Ira's side, yes, the man wants Thaddeus to like him, but the guy seems like someone pretty obsessed with appearances, why would he want his precious daughter to be related to a potentially dangerous lunatic who is locked in the attic?

That makes me think the fact that they asked Annabel was a lie. But then, how did Annabel find out about Lenore? What were her intentions in wanting to meet her?

I have more. But this one has been eating me alive now that we had another flashback.

Oh, my favorite blog sent me a submission. Yes, buddy, we're suffering together. Have been for a little while, considering how I feel about the topic.

I think about Thaddeus and his actions quite a lot (when I'm reminded of his existence), actually, because he's an enigma. He's my version of a walking paradox.

Let's say he did contact Annabel Lee to be, as she had quoted, "A good influence for his hysterical daughter." He had done so with the knowledge that Annabel Lee was a temporary friend, that Lenore was forever going to be a spinster, and after that?

Nothing. No husband, no friends, no life outside of the Vandernact estate. Just a good, influenced "lady" in a house on her own.

Why?

One can only assume that in some sickening way, Thaddeus cared. He cared as much as a misogynistic Victorian man mourning his son, the only heir to the estate and wealth, can possibly be.

I can somewhat back this train of thought up with episode 65: he did seem shocked at the news of his daughter's possible death. That was the face of a man with fear in his heart. Then, after denying that he had a daughter in the first place, he looked...guilty. Truly and utterly guilty. For a moment, I pitied him.

Just for a single moment.

That then begs the question (isn't this a complicated topic?) — why did he then deny Lenore's existence?

Well, I have a theory or two.

1. He was not alone. There were servants in that room, and we all know that Thaddeus had intented to keep Lenore's existence a secret between himself and Annabel Lee.

2. Stay with me on this one, because its held together by bubblegum and a bent paperclip. Are we all aware of the stages of grief? First came the shock. We've seen that on Thaddeus's face. Then, there's denial.

Onto Ira.

Well, I can see this one. Annabel Lee did say that this was an arrangement made by their fathers — so, what did Ira, a man obsessed with appearances, get in return for his saught-after daughter to chill out with a mad woman?

I'm not sure if this has been noticed, but the Whitlocks are staying in the Vandernact's estate in New York for the social season. That's a pretty big favor.

There's no downside on Ira's side if all goes according to plan. Annabel Lee makes a friend with a girl whose existence is to be kept secret, all while Ira finally finds her a eligible husband in New York.

I suppose neither Thaddeus nor Ira considered the fact that their daughters might be achingly sapphic and fall for each other in the process, subsequently leading Lenore to burn an entire house to the ground for the slim chance of Annabel Lee's hand in marriage.

Isn't this a complicated situation?

#nevermore confessions #nevermore webtoon #nevermore #lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #lenore vandernacht #lennabel #annabel lee x lenore #white raven #thaddeus vandernact #thaddeus nevermore

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 10 hours

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Uh... I .... Don't know if you're gonna answer me but...The white Steven gonna live forever? We all know he can live forever using his power to change his age and stuff and we know that the og Steven gonna die cuz Connie die and blablabla. But I was thinking if the white Steven would choose to live forever with the gems (Of course when he discoverer about this age change power---)

Nah... The white Steven is very different from the original Steven,so.... I was just thinking about it....

🫤😓

That's a very interesting question to consider!

I don't think it's a spoiler, but I kind of... don't want to answer it?

It's more fun to ask YOU guys. It's more fun to leave it open. :)

CAN he live forever? Good question.

WOULD he live forever, if given the chance? Great question!

I think it's way better for me to sit down for this one and let you guys theorize, or perhaps even write some fanfictions, or draw fanart, etc. It's better than locking you all into a single possibility.

#chekhov answers

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pugh-bug · 3 days

Text

No.42 Chapter 2

Art Donaldson x reader : slow burn friends to lovers

I really hope you enjoy this Chapter, I’m enjoying writing this a lot. Somehow I’ve never done proper friends to lovers before, I tend to do established relationships. Enjoy! 🎾✨

Part 1

———————————————————————

It had been nine days since Art moved in. Nine days and you weren’t quite sure if you were more desperate for him to stay forever or leave immediately. Truthfully, your anxiety had never been as up and down as it was now. Sometimes you’d catch yourself watching the door waiting for him to return when you were writing an essay in the living room, only to be met by Patrick and scream at the sound of the key turning.

Your nerves were fried from frantically changing whenever you thought Art might come into your room to ask you a question and from convincing yourself you hadn’t locked the shower when he was home when you had. You always did. It was already becoming a little exhausting worrying so much about him catching you existing freely in your own home but Patrick had no such worries. In fact he seemed to be walking round the flat naked more often than he did when it was just the two of you- something neither you or Art condoned.

The biggest pro to having Art around was that you had his kinder perspective on issues as well as Patrick’s unforgiving honest one. It had already become normal to have Patrick passionately raising his voice at you for not being angrier at someone whilst Art reassured you that it was okay you were giving them a second chance. It was like having a devil in one ear and an angel in the other. You often refused to pick a side as it only riled the two of them up.

——————————————————————

1:45pm - text from Patrick

Staying at my girls house this weekend ;) there’s pasta in the fridge for you guys

Your classes had already finished for the day, there were only so many hours your professors could regurgitate the same theory to you before giving up. With the end of your time at Stanford University on the horizon you’d have to start actually thinking of job ideas that paid. It was a sickening thought, one that your professor kept forcing you to think about but you pushed away.

You clicked your phone to standby and thought about how you were going to fill the weekend without Patrick’s antics. Art could very easily spend the entire time whacking tennis balls back and forth until he sweat out his body weight but you had no such luck. Tennis wasn’t actually your thing at all, it was the main thing you and Patrick had always disagreed on. For years he tried and failed to get you to play with him: ‘be my doubles partner c’mon you know you want to!’ but you were not easily convinced. You didn’t mind watching Patrick play though, to be a good friend, but the truth was if Art wasn’t on the court you were disillusioned.

By the time you heard Art return, you’d proof read your essay seven times and submitted it. That had been the last job to do before your weekend off and it was over.

‘Y/N?’

He called out for you like he’d done it a million times, almost like you were married. You couldn’t help the way you shot out of bed, feeling elated to see him again despite it not being 9 hours since you last had.

You poked your head out of your room only to be met by an extremely sweaty Art Donaldson in your hallway. He was wearing your favourite outfit of his: red and white gym wear and a cap on backwards. It could have easily looked douchey on someone else but Art could pull anything off.

‘I’m gonna get a shower. Take out after?’

You barely heard his offer, instead focusing your gaze on the way his wet shirt clung to his muscles. He almost missed the way your eyes refocused as you diverted your cloudy stare back to his face.

‘Yep perfect.’

Patrick would be offended you chose pizza over his homemade leftovers but he’d live.

‘Okay great.’

Art had a strange relationship with fast food, he craved it but he was terrified at the thought of any and all decisions holding his tennis career back. You’d already noticed how much longer his workouts were the day after pizza.

Just as you thought to add that you wanted extra cheese on your half you felt the familiar sensation of your period starting.

Lock…

‘Art?’

He couldn’t hear you over the shower water.

‘Art!’

If only you had two bathrooms.

‘Donaldson I’m bleeding to death!’ You banged your fists loudly on the door. Was he deaf? You were going to leave a bloody mess on the carpet if he didn’t let you in soon. A few frantic movements later, including a distinct unlocking sound, and you were rushing pash Art to the toilet without a word. You knew he’d leave the second he realised what you were about to do but even so you didn’t care. In a few seconds the bathroom would look like a murder scene with or without him as a witness.

‘Sorry…’ you cleared your throat, looking up at Art, who was standing confused in only a towel. In your embarrassment you almost didn’t notice, choosing instead to rush into the safety of your room away from Art and his dripping torso.

Twenty minutes of scrolling later and your stomach was rumbling uncontrollably. Like clockwork Art knocked on your door, entered and told you in a quiet voice that the pizza arrived. When you didn’t respond he smiled. ‘Extra cheese.’ Even Patrick forgot to add that for you sometimes.

——————————————————————

‘Dip please.’

Art obliged, passing you the garlic sauce from his position on the floor. He’d sat down there to set up the ancient dvd player (‘Jaws’ wasn’t on Netflix) and never got up. ‘This film terrified me as a child.’ He mumbled, mid chew. ‘I didn’t go in the ocean for almost three years.’

A smile formed as you pictured a tiny Art Donaldson hiding under the covers from the shark he found too scary to look at. You’d never seen a photo of him younger than about fourteen but you could imagine that he was an adorable kid - the kind strangers called ‘a bundle of joy’.

‘I love the ocean, it’s one of the only places I never get sick of. Never.’

Art turned to look at you, eager to show he was listening.

‘Any time my mum could she’d take us to the beach for picnics, you know 1000 steps?’ He nodded at you. ‘That one was my favourite. There was a secret pool. I used to pretend I was a mermaid.’ You suddenly went quiet, remembering one time you fell and cut your leg on a particularly unforgiving rock and your Mum had to drag you home crying because you still wanted to play mermaids. You were a dedicated child.

Art took a large bite of pizza and looked up at you on your little sofa thrown. ‘You don’t do that anymore?’

‘Do what?’

The left corner of his mouth curled up slightly, an almost smirk. ‘Play mermaids.’

‘Ah, no. Not anymore.’

You dusted off the crumbs from your palms and lowered your head, feeling almost genuinely sad for a moment not to still be young and free: away from University stress and job worries. Away from all worries really.

‘Shame.’

Before you could say anything the best scene came on and as Quint recalled the doll quality of shark eyes your phone lit up.

8:16pm - text from Patrick

Her parents don’t like me but I’m slowly winning them over they’ll love me in no time hows art? Is he being boring?

Art watched you type for a moment before making a correct assumption. ‘Is that Patrick? Tell him he owes me five dollars.’

8:17pm - text to Patrick

We’re fine watching jaws rn Art says you owe him five dollars?

8:17pm - text from Patrick

I really don’t.

‘Art, he’s saying he doesn’t.’

Suddenly filled with energy, Art leapt off the floor to grab his phone and type feverishly to his friend. You watched him type for a moment, his fingers moving with impressive speed almost enough to make you picture something interesting. Almost.

‘What were you betting on? Do I even wanna know?’

If it was tennis scores, Patrick usually lost those. You’d been there in 2019 when Nadal won the US open instead of Medvedev and most of the living room had paid the price for it. Rest in peace glass side table. So long red planter pot.

Art suddenly looked guilty for a moment, he put his phone down and breathed. ‘He bet that you wouldn’t see me half naked until two weeks in.’ So not a tennis bet. ‘I said it’d be earlier, yknow given how small this place is and how I sometimes forget to lock the bathroom.’ Now you were confused, Art had never once forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Not even when he was, similar to you, so desperate he sent Patrick flying backwards to clear a path. The man loved his privacy.

‘I figured it was tennis related.’ You shrugged, finishing the last of your pizza.

Art scoffed slightly, before clearing his throat. ‘Not everything me and Patrick talk about is tennis related.’

‘But it is mostly about tennis right, I mean, it’s your entire life. It seems to be who you are, that’s why I made you watch ‘Jaws’ instead of SkySports for a change. Mix things up a bit.’ You smiled, playfully, knowing he couldn’t disagree with anything you said.

‘My entire life is not tennis.’

‘Isn’t it?’

He didn’t respond.

#art donaldson slow burn #art donaldson friends to lovers #art donaldson fan fic #challengers art donaldson #challengers art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson x reader #art Donaldson #art donaldson fic #Mike faist #challengers slow burn #friends to lovers

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the-slumberparty · 1 day

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🍨Navy & Roo's Sundae Bar🍨

Welcome to Navy and Roo’s Sundae Bar!

*rules at the bottom*

𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣, 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕡 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 (𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟) 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕥!

*Click below the cut to see more.*

🍧Vanilla: ‘only one bed’ - a classic flavour for a classic trope. Your characters are stranded and they have to share a sleeping space.

🍧Chocolate: a secret revealed – for a flavour as dark and rich as chocolate, you need a secret just as delicious. One (or more) of your characters has a dirty little secret revealed.

🍧Strawberry: berry picking – isn't it obvious? Fresh strawberries are best and berry picking is a sweet summertime activity. Your characters go berry picking, how their adventure ends is up to you. Fluffy, smutty, or even, dark.

🍧Neopolitan: love triangle – three's a crowd! Whether it’s poly, a crush on someone taken, a third wheel date, or a spicy threesome, there’s more to love in this combination.

🍧Black Cherry: enemies to lovers – a dark flavour has a sweet tang. So your characters go from one extreme to the other, hate to love.

🍧Mint Chocolate: the loner – mint chocolate is an acquired taste, so it is that one of your characters is of a similar flavour. A loner is brought out of their shell.

🍧Cookie Dough: bakery au – cookie dough proves that a bit of baking can make anything better. Your characters now live in a bakery au, whether they work there, or come as customers, they can’t resist the sweet aura.

🍧Cookies and Cream: soulmates – it's a match made in heaven and without one, the other just feels incomplete. Your characters are soulmates, but how their fates align is up to you.

🍧Rocky Road: rags to riches – it's been a long road. Cinderella, a lottery winner, a sudden inheritance. You decide how your character gets their windfall.

🍧Pistachio: rare pair – pistachio isn’t the most popular, but it’s there. Your pairing isn't a common one, but we know you can make it delicious.

🍧Bubble Gum: slow burn – a bit of chewing is in store. So we will anxiously savour the slow burn between your characters.

🍧Butter Pecan: mutual pining - a pecan isn’t the same as a pine nut, but it’s close enough. We want to see your characters yearn and even lust all while facing obstacles; whether their own fear of rejection, shyness, or social expectations, they just can’t get to each other.

🍧Birthday Cake: secret admirer – it doesn’t have to be your birthday to have this flavour. And your secret admirer leaves you gifts every day, but just won’t give you the one thing you desperately want: their identity.

🍧Butterscotch: childhood friends – every kid likes butterscotch. Your characters have been friends forever, but could they be more?

🍧French Vanilla: stranded/locked in - vanilla, but make it fancy. Forced proximity to the max. Whether your characters have to work together to escape or survive, or just need to wait out the night, they’re stuck together.

*toppings are optional, you do not need to use one for your submission.

🥄Sprinkles: a special event - a wedding, a party, a baby shower; make your setting a special get together.

🥄Chocolate Syrup: established relationship – your characters are already involved, with each other or someone else, adding a bit of messiness to the plot.

🥄Graham Crackers: flashback – a brief trip into the past reveals something important.

🥄Gummy Bears: bad luck – your character is just having a bout of misfortune.

🥄Bananas: eavesdropping – your characters overheard something they shouldn’t have, or misinterpreted a whisper.

🥄Cherries: meet-cute – this can be fluffy or a stereotypical first meeting gone wrong

🥄Toasted Almonds: heartbreak – your character is going through a heartbreak

🥄Oreos: marriage of convenience – your characters marry for the greater good, but maybe not their own

🥄Peanuts: revenge – someone's getting revenge

🥄Caramel: drunk/delirious/not in their right mind – one or more of your characters is not thinking straight

We encourage sundae bar patrons to share this post, both to boost this challenge, or for your own purposes (requests, etc). Thank you all and enjoy your ice cream!

This challenge is open to all fandoms and characters.

🍒Dark creations are accepted but we will not accept underage, incest, or bestiality. Please don’t forget to add warnings to your works appropriately.

🍒For written pieces, there are no word count limits, but we do ask that you add a “read more” beyond 500 words.

🍒We hope that creators can create an inclusive work and encourage writers and creators to use appropriate tagging, ie, f!reader, etc..

🍒 For this challenge, we will accept sequels or continuations to previous works. Please be sure to link the original work in your submission.

🍒Creators may submit three pieces of each medium (up to three visual pieces and up to three written pieces)

🍒Be kind to yourself and to others. We are here to support and include each other.

🍒This is an event for the summer, with a final due date of September 8 for late submissions.

!Tag this blog in your submission so we see it!

#writing challenge #creator challenge #sundae bar #navy and roo's sleepover #sleepover challenge #summer 2024 #summer challenge

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silverameco · 19 hours

Text

Locked in a Room - @wolfstarmicrofic - 718 words

"Sirius. Why the hell did the door just disappear ?"

"Hum. That's actually a great question Moonshine."

In an attempt to flee from Filch, Sirius had led them to the Room of Requirement. It looked quite cosy, with a large, plushy couch and a warm fireplace. It would have been perfect if not for the empty wall where the door had been mere seconds before.

Remus sat on the couch with an annoyed huff. Great, now he was even more angry with him.

"Come on, Moons, look at the bright side. It's basically your dream place. There are books, even."

Sirius was rewarded with a blank stare for his efforts. He was starting to feel his nerves get to him.

"Will you at least tell me what I did ? You've been like this for weeks ! Whatever it is, I'll fix it, I promise. I can't bear it when you're angry with me, Moony. Please, I'm dying over here."

He had let himself fall at the other end of the couch at some point during his rant. Remus was looking at him with wide eyes, seemingly surprised. Like he wasn't the one avoiding him all the time.

"It's not- you didn't do anything. I'm not angry with you."

Sirius had the sudden urge to stomp and demand answers like a child. He loved Remus' mysteries, but sometimes it was so frustating.

"Then what ? I know there's something. I know you."

He got closer to Remus, who raised his knees against his chest with his arms wrapped around them, like a barrier. His eyes were frantically searching Sirius' face.

"I can't tell you. You're going to hate me." he hid his face against his knees.

Sirius got close enough to put his hands on Remus' cheeks and raise his head again.

"Yeah, right. Like you thought I was going to hate you when I discovered you were a werewolf or when you told me you were gay. Haven't you learn Moony ? There's nothing that could ever make me hate you."

He hoped his sincerity was clear. Remus was looking at him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes swimming in emotion. His cheeks wore a light pink tint and his skin was so, so soft under his fingers. Before Sirius could register it happening, he was so close he could count the other's freckles, their foreheads touching.

It seemed only right than the next thing he did was pressing his lips against Remus'. He didn't think about it long enough to convince himself it was a bad idea. He just did it, like it was the only thing that had to be done. When Remus kissed him back, slow and soft, Sirius was pretty sure it was.

It didn't last nearly long enough. When they parted, Remus quickly moved to sit normally on the couch, bringing Sirius with him so he could straddle his lap. Sirius blinked and looked at him with a lopsided smile.

"What is it then ?"

"I love you." he whispered.

Sirius brought his arms around his neck and pressed his smile against his ear.

"I love you too."

They kissed for a long time after this. What started soft and sweet quickly turned hungry and passionate. Sirius was in heaven. He could feel Remus' warmth everywhere. He wanted to stay there forever. How convenient that they couldn't leave anyway.

"Hum, Sirius ?" Remus left his mouth to kiss his neck. "The door is back."

"Oh. But we don't have to leave right now, do we ?" he asked with a wicked smile.

"I suppose we don't." he answered, bringing his lips back to his neck.

When they finally got out, after what felt simultaneously like two decades and two minutes - even though Sirius knew it was probably two hours - Remus asked him what he thought about when he led them to the Room.

"Just that I needed somewhere to talk to you. Not my fault the Room thinks the only way for you to stop being stubborn is to lock you somewhere." he said with a proud smile.

#they're disgustingly sweet #i'm addicted to fluffy wolfstar #silv writes things #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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rippleclan · 2 days

Text

RippleClan: Moon 41

Oilstripe and Weedfoot have whitecough. Oilstripe lets Fennelspot share his troubles with her, hoping he’ll feel better afterward.

[Image ID: Fennelspot and Oilstripe talk while Weedfoot rests behind them. Under both Weedfoot and Oilstripe, it says + CONDITION: WHITECOUGH. Under Fennelspot, it says + GUIDANCE FROM STARCLAN: THE STORM PROPHECY.]

Whitecough was never fun, but under a skilled paw like Fennelspot’s, it was easy enough to manage. Having both the deputy and one of the Clan’s few historians sick would cause some issues in routine, but Rustshade silently stepped up to fill Weedfoot’s paws as she rested, so the Clan wouldn’t fall apart. Despite the ample resources available to care for Weedfoot and Oilstripe, Fennelspot still had a few worries pulling on his pelt.

One of the main complications was the half-conscious loner sleeping in the back of the den. Ever since Shadowdrop and Burdockcreek brought her to camp, she had been in and out while Fennelspot assessed her injuries. The horse had broken her back, Fennelspot could feel it, but when he nipped at the loner’s tail and back feet, she flinched. There was hope for the stranger, she just needed to wake up.

The other issue, however…

Fennelspot focused on preparing black cherry bark tea for Weedfoot and Oilstripe. He watched as the water in his small pot boiled and the bark danced inside. He had a leather wrap in his mouth and a leather apron wrapped around his neck and covering his chest; Rattlepelt had managed to reverse engineer SlugClan’s mouth covers many moons prior, bringing an end to pot burns and all the other issues that plagued caretakers and clerics at the oven just two years prior.

As the tea reached its peak flavor, Fennelspot grabbed the pot’s tall handle and lifted it off the grillstone. The hot flat side of the pot rested against his apron. He carefully poured the hot tea over his special medicinal filter and into a fresh bowl. He put away the apron and cover and picked up the tea bowl. Walking slowly but surely, Fennelspot headed for the quarantine den.

RippleClan had Palepaw to thank for discovering the quarantine den. She had been going about her business in the dirt place when she saw a slim opening in the back of the shipwreck. That opening led into a part of the ship that Fennelspot and Downstar thought was forever locked to the Clan. Perhaps it opened due to the passage of time, or perhaps it had always gone unnoticed with its proximity to the dirt place. Regardless, Fennelspot and RippleClan’s future clerics could safely care for their contagious patients without infecting anyone else.

Weedfoot and Oilstripe slept on soft nests surrounded by the softest pelts Rattlepelt could craft. Both mollies wheezed slightly as they slept. As the steam of the black cherry tea filled the den, Oilstripe stirred from her dreams, sniffling.

“More tea?” she sighed.

“Drink as much as you can,” Fennelspot said, placing the pot between her and Weedfoot.

“Are you sure it’s working?” Oilstripe groaned, throwing a paw over her muzzle. “My throat’s on fire.”

“You’re just sensitive to the symptoms,” Fennelspot said. “They’ll be better once you drink this.”

“Where’s Troutkit? We were comparing our claws…”

“She helped put the bark in the tea. She wanted to make sure her mother was alright.”

“She’s a good kit…”

“That she is.” Fennelspot ran his tail over Oilstripe’s shoulder. With the tea ready for the sick mollies, he turned to leave.

“Wait.” Oilstripe sat up, clearing her throat. “Something’s wrong with you.”

“What do you mean?” Fennelspot asked, trying to keep his pelt relaxed.

“Duskkit was in here,” Oilstripe chuckled awkwardly. “Not in a ‘guide us to StarClan’ way, she was just wandering. She said my whitecough was ‘making it hard for Fennelspot to think’. Think about what?”

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Fennelspot sighed, shaking his head. “It’s cleric’s business.”

“I have an ear to that world,” Oilstripe reminded him. “I don’t have anything else to do right now. If you need to work through it, I can offer some advice.” Fennelspot hesitated. Was it appropriate to discuss what he knew with a historian? He supposed Duskkit wouldn’t have said anything if he wasn’t meant to discuss it.

“I went to the half-moon meeting last night,” Fennelspot said, sitting with his back to the exit, “and Locustseeker spoke to me. They gave me a prophecy.” Oilstripe’s eyes sparkled. “A storm within a storm gives the dark a chance to shine. Look to the sky for the call to action. I can’t tell if the dark is good or bad.”

“This is the first prophecy you’ve gotten since we founded RippleClan, isn’t it?” Oilstripe muttered. “Whatever it means, it sounds important. You told me that prophecies come from the All-Seeing, right? So any of the StarClan cats I see around camp likely won’t know too much.”

“Keep an eye on strange weather patterns,” Fennelspot said. “If we see something in the clouds, that likely means this ‘storm within a storm’ is happening.”

“One of the storms is likely not a real storm,” Oilstripe said. “It could be emotional? I don’t know who would lose it in a thunderstorm, but the details of prophecies are historically blurry until they unfold. Did that help?”

“It did,” Fennelspot sighed. He placed his paw over Oilstripe’s. “Thank you, Oilstripe. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

“I feel the same,” Oilstripe promised him. “Now let’s see whether you’re poisoning me with this tea.” Fennelspot couldn’t help but laugh as Oilstripe trudged to the tea bowl and drank her medicine.

(Fennelspot: 98, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Oilstripe: 45, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

Fennelspot doesn’t notice the injured loner waking up.

[Image ID: Fennelspot faces away from the brown molly. Underneath the brown molly, it says LEVEL UP! ??? -> SPIKE.]

---

Fennelspot returned to the medicine den once Weedfoot woke up and drank some of the tea. Both she and Oilstripe would recover quickly, although neither could hunt until their whitecough was all gone. Fennelspot wasn’t the sort to feel confident in his skills, but he trusted that those two would be fine.

The stranger was still asleep when Fennelspot got back. A fresh basket of late autumn herbs sat in the middle of the den. Clammask must have collected some medicine for Fennelspot while he was caring for his patients! That would save him some time.

He dragged the basket to his stores and began to sort. It was good to have someone else pondering the prophecy with him. Hopefully one of the kits in the nursery would want to be a cleric when they reached apprenticeship. Troutkit seemed interested in herbs. Perhaps—

A sharp growl rippled through the den. Fennelspot jumped, knocking over his basket. The stranger was awake! Fennelspot had placed her in a simple brace to keep her spine straight, but the loner shifted and groaned under the uncomfortable pressure of the stick on her back.

“You need to stay still,” Fennelspot stammered. He snatched a bundle of pain-killing herbs and set them at the stranger’s side. “My name is Fennelspot. You’re in RippleClan’s camp. You were trampled by a horse, do you remember?”

“It hurts,” the stranger whined.

“I’m sure it does,” Fennelspot said. “The horse broke your back. Our Clanmates brought you here. These herbs should help with the pain.”

“My back?” the stranger groaned.

“Yes, your back. Can you feel your tail? Your back legs?”

“That’s all I feel!”

“Please, eat this. I’m here to help you. You can trust me.” Fennelspot nudged the painkillers closer. The stranger moaned, but licked the plants up. “Don’t sit up. I’ve positioned you in a way that should ease pressure off your back and help your spine heal. You should be able to walk again, but it will be a while.”

The stranger took deep, shaky breaths. She turned her head away from Fennelspot. The ginger cleric carefully scanned the stranger’s brace. He adjusted the soft leather straps keeping the stick in place.

“I’m sure this is a lot to take in, and I want to give you time to get balanced,” Fennelspot eventually said, “but it would be good to know your name.”

“Spike,” the stranger muttered.

“Spike,” Fennelspot sighed. “It’s a good name. Let me know if your pain doesn’t settle. There’s a lot I can do to help you. And when you want to learn more about this place…” When Fennelspot looked back down, Spike’s eyes were shut. It wasn’t clear if the molly had actually fallen asleep again or if she was trying to ignore Fennelspot. He understood either way.

“Rest well,” he sighed. With his patient settled, Fennelspot ran off to inform his leader of the newcomer’s name.

(Fennelspot: 98, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Spike: 16, female, loner, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

#warrior cats #clangen #rippleclan #warriors #rippleclan story #oilstripe #fennelspot #weedfoot #spike

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