#And Adore it with even more Glitter on it :D

[r0tt1ngr4bb1t]

I can taste the glitter in dis :0

Oops! (now animated)

[You can support my art on my ko-fi! : https://ko-fi.com/lowpolyparrot]

[gardens-light]

Opposites Attract

Unlike his friend, D16 often kept his head down and followed protocol. Going through his usual routine one cycle after another, only stepping out of his normality whenever Orion Pax needed to be pulled out of trouble. Yet... he'd be lying, if he ever said his optics never occasionally drifted towards the one thing he's wanted. You. The High Guard that had stolen his spark, who's beauty could only be compared to the sparkling towers of Iacon. Something he could never touch and never to keep. For he accepted the fact you both were from different worlds. Something that not even one of the 'great plans' of Orion Pax could change... right...?

Content: D16/Megatron TFO x F/Cybertronian Reader. Fluff.

Toiling away under the flickering lights and constant hum of machinery. The cavernous walls of the mine glittered with the veins of energon, their iridescent glow faintly illuminating the surroundings.

As the others grinded away at the seams of energon, Orion Pax's gaze flickered up at D16, noticing the distracted expression upon his faceplate.

"Hey D. You ok?"

Startled and snapping out of his daze, D16 briefly looked over his shoulder. "Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah. I'm fine." he replied dismissively, casually returning his blank gaze back to the task at hand.

"You know I've got your back. Right...?"

"I know, I know you do, Orion. It's just... it's nothing. Really."

Orion lowered his tools, placing a hand on D16's shoulder as his movements became a bit more forceful, as if he was trying to take out his frustration on the cave walls.

Stiffening under his friend's touch, finally taking a moment of pause as he met Orion's concerned gaze.

"It's just... it's stupid. I honestly don't know why I'm even bothered by it." A heavy sigh escaped D16's lips, dropping his tools and leaning against the rocky wall behind him. "I... bumped into someone this morning before shift. It was a little thing really, but the simple shock of it... the shock of realizing who it was... I-I've never seen her in person before, only from the holos, but... Primus, Orion. She was... perfect!"

"Don't give me that look." He groaned, seeing the faint smile tugging on Orion's faceplate. "It's not like I have a chance with her. There's no universe where she'd be slightest bit of interested in some lowly mech like me-"

"C'mon D... don't be like that-"

"Why shouldn't I? It's the truth and you know it." D16 pushed himself off the wall and resumed his work. Wielding his tools with more force than necessary. The sharp ringing of metal against stone echoed throughout the cavern.

"Because there's gotta be more to life than just... this!" Orion protested, gesturing to their surroundings. "Don't you want to try and be more than what we're 'supposed' to be?-"

"What else are we supposed to be, then?!" D16 scowled, swinging his tool once more, causing a shower of sparks to fly up. The glow of the energon-flecked rock reflected off the planes of his face, casting deep shadows under his optics. For a brief moment, the harsh environment seemed to aged his otherwise youthful features. "We're miners! Built for this! Just because you have grand dreams and aspirations, doesn't mean the rest of us do!"

Orion flinched, pausing for moment before finding his voice again. "You're... not seriously gonna just admire this femme from afar...? I-I've seen the way you look at her. You adore her!-"

"It doesn't matter, Orion. She's far beyond me. I'm... just a simple miner, and she's a High Guard. There's no point in even entertaining the thought that I could ever... be with her."

"Why not? Who says you couldn't? You're just as good as any mech!-"

"Oh yeah! I'm sure she'd be enthralled by my rugged charm and the coal dust that's constantly clinging to my frame!" D16 bitterly laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I bet she'd swoon over the grease stains on my servos. And of course, the highlight! My endless stories of energon extraction- it just gets the femmes going every time! Clearly!"

Grinding away at the cavern wall, using the repetitive motion of his tools against the stone to distract him from the thoughts spinning through his processor. The dull ache in D16's servos felt like a welcomed relief compared to the turmoil in his spark. A small thorn of guilt pricked at his circuits, as he caught Orion's somber expression within the corner of his optic.

Both fell into a tense silence, the only sound of steady rhythmic clang of metal on stone dragging out till the end of their long shift.

---

Eventually the twelfth hour came to an end, D16 and Orion headed to the nearest exit along with their fellow miners. Grimy from the day's work, their servos stained and joins sore from exertion. D16 stretches lazily, trying to work out the kinks in his wiring, rolling his neck and shoulders as he walked beside Orion.

Raising an optic ridge, following his friend's gaze. D16's spark practically stutters when he spots you not far in the distance. A sweet smile framing your lips, as you spoke to another High Guard, your polished form standing out against the dingy backdrop of the mining station. D16's spark pulsed within it's chamber, sending zaps of electricity throughout his circuits, as if you're a magnet drawing him in. As you turned away from your fellow High Guard, the silver miner quickly avoided eye contact, secretly hoping you didn't notice him as he stared at the floor.

Hiding his mischievous smile, Orion slowed his pace a little. His gaze stubley peering up at you every so often, as the gap between you and his friend gradually closes. Secretly positioning himself slightly behind you, Orion quickly pushed you into D16.

His optics widen as you came crashing down on top of him, your sudden weight causing him to lose balance and fall onto his back with a surprised 'oof.'

"H-Hey! Watch where you're..." oh... Primus...

Subtle warmth slowly raised beneath his faceplates, as passers by raised an optic ridge at your... rather compromising position. Your tall yet slender frame caging D16 beneath you, while his servos hovered awkwardly above your waist.

"Ow..."

A jolt of electricity shot through him, a gasp slipping past his lips as your weight shifted onto his legs, straddling his lap. His servos itched towards your thighs, his amber optics watching the grime and dirt rub off onto your otherwise flawless paintwork. Quickly glancing up at you with an apologetic expression, as your optics flickered open.

"By the AllSpark! Are you ok?" your melody tone was filled with concern, as your soft gaze met his. "I-I honestly don't know what happened."

Taking a moment to collect himself, D16's servos involuntary slowly slid up and down your thighs. "I'm... I'm fine. No harm done... are you alright?"

A subtle heat rose to your faceplates, making them warm to the touch, as your optics flickered down at your thighs. Feeling the miner's calloused servos subconsciously caress your sooth metal.

Following your shy gaze, embarrassment flushed across D16's features. Quickly pulling his servos away and scrambling to sit up properly, his chassis brushing against yours. His optics nervously darting around, attempting to avoid your gaze while his spark wildly pulsed within its chamber.

Both raising onto your peds, and after a brief moment of hesitation. The miner's gaze slowly trailed up your form, as you brushed off the coal dust and grime.

"Primus... s-sorry about that." A pang of guilt struck his inner-circuits, while D16 fussed over you. His spark skipping a beat as you gave him a sweet smile. The warmth of your body made his processor go all fuzzy, not being able to string a single thought.

"Thank you-"

"D! There you are! I've been looking for you." Orion's cheerful voice interrupted. Pulling his usual warm smile, ignoring his friend's annoyed glare as Orion wrapped an arm around D16's shoulders. "Please forgive my clumsy friend, ma'am. If you'll allow it, he'd would like to properly apologize for this whole inconvenience. Perhaps over some energon? His treat, of course."

What?! D16's optics widened, as his glare narrowed onto his friend. For sparks sake, Orion! Now isn't the time to conjure up one of your 'master plans!'

You held up your servos. "Oh... that's very sweet. But he doesn't-"

"Nonsense. He insists. Right, buddy?"

Not wanting to bring anymore attention, than Orion already did. D16 slowly nodded, as an irritated huff escaped him.

His optics flickered towards you, as your sweet chuckles came to his audio receivers. Clearly finding somewhat some form of amusement, as the miner obviously looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Very well... if he insists. U-Um... when?"

"How about this evening?" Orion's smile widened, clapping a hand upon D16's shoulder, who subtly cringed under his friend's touch. "D knows a great energon bar down the way, The Cranked Gear. Very laid-back atmosphere, perfect for a casual... meeting."

The warmth beneath D16's plates rose, as he caught a glimpse of your sweet smile. Your soft gaze roaming over his frame, "sounds great. See you later... D."

"What. The. Fragg was that?!" the silver miner snapped once you were out of earshot. A mixture of disbelief and frustration etched into his faceplates, "you set me up!"

"Hey... I was just trying to help." Orion held up his servos in surrender. "Plus, it proves you have a chance with her-"

"Are you kidding me? There's no chance!" D16 threw his servos up in exasperation, his inner-circuits coiling with tension. "She's a High Guard. I'm a cogless miner-bot. We're practically from different worlds! What am I supposed to do? Just sit there and make a fool of myself?"

A weak smile came to Orion, shrugging as he tried to give D16 some form of reassurance. "From... what I've heard. You kinda just... sit there and talk when you're on a date."

"Gee, thanks for the helpful advice." D16 frowned, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "I'll just sit there and chat about the weather and my thrilling work in energon extraction." A low groan escaped his lips, while pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why or how I let you talk me into things, y'know..." This is gonna be a disaster.

Later That Evening

Rocking upon his heels, shifting nervously from pede to pede. A subtle hopeful expression etched upon his features, as D16 glanced around for you.

No sign of her yet...

Taking a deep breath, trying to steady his spark and nerves. While his processor ran through potential conversation topics, attempting to prepare something interesting to say. A sigh escaping his lips, as D16 looked down at himself, suddenly hyper-aware of his frame. His rough, dull plating starkly stood out against the sleek finish of the other mechs in the vicinity.

Hopefully... she's not too put off by my rough exterior-

"Good evening... hopefully you haven't been waiting long."

Your soft tone snapped him out of his thoughts, his wide eyed stare roaming over your newly polished figure. "No! Uh, I mean... no. I just got here... you look..."

"What...?" you quickly looked down at yourself. Examining particular spots over your frame, "do I still have coal dust on me or something?"

"No! No! You look good. Great, even. Better than great!" fragging idiot. "Um... shall we...?"

Giving him a brief smile, you followed D16's lead into the bar. Sunken ceiling lights lit the area with a warm, gentle hue. The atmosphere bustling with chatter and laughter. Making your way through the clutter of tables and chairs, D16 could practically feel the surprised and confused expressions of the patrons, as they took in your presence.

He knew that the pair of you must make quite the duo, a miner and a High Guard. While guiding the way through the bar, his optics narrowed onto the nearest bots, silently daring them to say something. Leading you to a more secluded booth in the far corner, the lights became slightly more dim, creating more intimate feel. While the patrons chatter reduced to lulled muffle.

Your smile slightly widened, as D16 pulled out a seat for you. Politely waiting til you were settled before taking a seat opposite you.

"So... uh... how was your day?" his voice was uncharacteristically low, while his digits anxiously fidgeted wit the edge of the table. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? Come on!

"Um... alright. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The awkward tension slowly eased into the space between you, as D16's processor scrambled for a new topic.

"That's good... My shift down in the mines was pretty normal. Just the... usual amount of ore. No issues with the equipment- well, one drill malfunctioned. But we fixed it quick enough."

D16's spark nervously pulsed through his wires, as you flashed him a weak smile. Replying with a simple nod, "oh... um, sounds... eventful? Would you... like to order some energon?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I, uh, should probably warn you though. The stuff they serve here isn't exactly the most refined. It's... got a kind of a bite to it."

After answering with shrug, D16 took the cue to approach the nearby bar. The bartender passed him the drinks with a knowing glance, only to be greeted with the miner's glare in return. Knowing full well that the whole bar was undoubtedly watching him, make his way back to you.

Settling himself back into his seat, carefully sliding your drink towards you. As he took a sip from his own, the smooth taste a momentary distraction from the awkward tension.

Noticing your half-hearted smile, a pang of guilt thumped within his spark. This a complete fragging diseater! Why can't I say anything? I can practically feel this whole thing already crashing and burning in front of me!-

"What's... that on your shoulder?"

"Huh?" D16 followed your gaze, briefly noticing you pausing from your drink. A subtle warmth radiated beneath his faceplates as embarrassment swept through his frame. "Oh, uh, that's just... a sticker. My friend, Orion put it there a while ago, and I... forgot to remove it-"

"Oh no. Don't remove it." The tone of your voice peaked a little, as your gaze softened. Admiring the sticker's holographic shine. "It looks good on you. You should see my stasis pod in my private quarters."

A shy smile lit up his features, as D16's spark fluttered within it's chamber. "Y-You... you think so? I, uh... I appreciate that. And... what's on your stasis pod?"

"My favorite, Solus Prime. But I promise it's only a small sticker."

"Ah, a Solus fan, eh?" a small chuckle escaped his lips. Optics shining with a glimmer of amusement. "Not too shabby. Can't blame you, she was a badass warrior. And... only a small sticker, you say?"

Holding up your servo, almost pinching the air between your thumb and index digit. "This small. Nothing too crazy."

"Oh, phew." A light laugh escaped his lips, as D16 mockly wiped an invisible bead of condensation upon his forehelm. "I was worried you had her face on a full sized wall mural. But just a little sticker? That's much more reasonable."

Your sweet chuckles rung through the air between the pair of you, like a sweet melody. Lifting the awkwardness that lingered before, finally giving him the chance to actually feel connected with you.

Feeling a bit more emboldened, D16 continued. "Seriously. Solus is a solid choice. But I'd have to go with Megatronus, personally."

Raising an optic ridge, while tilting your helm to the side. "What draws to you him?"

Leaning back in his seat, a look of admiration sparkled within his optics. "Well, apart from being the most fearsome warrior in Cybertron's history. He was also a brilliant strategist! He could take on any opponent and come out on top! Plus, he's just... so incredibly powerful. Unstoppable really! I guess I've... always looked up to him for that kind of strength."

A small smile teased the corner of your lips, trying to hide it behind your cup. "That's very true. I gotta admit that he's a total badass."

"Oh. He's definitely a badass! I remember reading tales about his battles against the Quintessons, and let me tell you. They're the stuff of legend! He could take on an entire army by himself and come out with nothing but a scratch."

"Careful." Your teasing tone purred. "Your fanboy is showing."

The warmth beneath his faceplates grow even more, as embarrassment crept back into his frame. Clearing his vocal processor, attempting to return to his usual demeanor while his spark skipped a beat. "What? I'm just stating facts."

Taking the last sip from your drink, your soft gaze trailed down his chassis. D16 subconsciously shifts his body, covering his cogless chamber. His spark pulsing more, avoiding your gaze while taking another mouthful of his drink.

A lull ache pulsed throughout your frame, guilt jabbing your at your spark. "Forgive me... I-I shouldn't have starred-"

"It's... It's fine." The lull ache within you begun to painfully prick at your spark, as D16's words held a more rougher edge than he intended. "You were just curious. I don't blame you."

A subtle blanket of awkward silence slowly crept back into the air, as hesitation temporarily stole your words. A flicker of surprise flashed within D16's optics, as his soft gaze noticed your servo edging closer to him across the table. Breath almost got stuck in his vents as he met your optics, the colour shining with genuine curiosity and a hint of compassion.

The question swirling within your processor, softly escaped your lips in just above a whisper. "Can I...?"

Answering with a simple nod. D16 flinched slightly as you touched his cogless chamber, as if bracing himself for judgement or ridicule. Yet your expression remained soft, a hint of... affection? Flickering within your optics. As your digits gently traced the otter rim of his circular chamber, a strange sense of comfort washed over him. The gesture surprisingly tender, as he found himself relaxing under your touch.

"It's... It's a pretty pathetic sight... isn't it?"

Another prang of guilt pulsed throughout your inner-circuits, as you picked up the subtle shame hiding within D16's words. "What? No! No, of course not. Just... different..."

"Different? That's one way to put it." D16's tone held a bitter edge, while a scoff escaped him. "I mean... look at me. A cogless miner bot. I'm a pathetic excuse for a Cybertronian."

Great... Hanging his head low, a heavy sigh escaped him. Why did you steer the conversation in that direction? You idiot!-

Crunch!

Snap!

D16's optics widened as he witnessed you tear away a small section of your forearm. His puzzled gaze flickering to the soft smile upon your lips, your optics shining with kindness as an idea crossed your processor.

"Wait! What are you doing?-"

Your soft smile, sweetened as you leaned back in your seat. Purposely positioning yourself just out of his reach, while you worked on the scrap piece of metal. Only taking a few moments to flatten it, using the table's edge to smooth and round off the edges, before holding up the now makeshift disk for inspection.

"I... know it's not real." D16's spark fluttered within his chassis, as his wide optics met your loving gaze. His breath hitching as you reached across the table, placing the makeshift disk into his empty cog chamber. "But maybe... a part of me could be... your 'cog?'"

Staring down at the makeshift 'cog' which now rested in the chamber, a hopeful pulse beat through your inner circuits as your spark skipped.

For a moment, he couldn't find the words to express the swirling emotions within his spark. Surprise, gratitude, affection... They all crashed together in a wonderful mess.

"I-I... I don't know what to say. This is..." D16 slowly placed a servo over his cog chamber, feeling the shape of his new 'cog' inside.

The act itself wasn't just incredibly kind but... surprisingly intimate. The fact that you would willingly give up a part of yourself for him. To make him feel more... complete.

I-I... would never believed... never have imagined...

H-Have I... overstepped somehow? You nervously swallowed a lump in your vocal processor. Was it too much?

But the invisible tug upon the corners of his lips, was enough to slowly calm your racing spark. For he couldn't help but stare at you in quiet awe, as D16's processor still reel from your act. He gently reached a servo across the table, resting it atop your own. A silent gesture of gratitude and affection, while his optics met yours.

"Th-This... was unexpected- wonderful! Thoughtful! But just... unexpected..." he lowly spoke. "How could I ever thank you?"

"Well..." your sweet smile turned slightly flirty, as your thumb caressed D16's knuckles. "Maybe... you could demonstrate your strength to me? I... heard miners are strong."

D16's faceplates heats up at your flirtatious tone, a rush of nervous excitement tingles pulsed throughout his frame.

"O-Oh..." his amber optics glanced around the bar, making sure nobody was eavesdropping as he returned your smile. "And... how would you like me to demonstrate that? Perhaps somewhere more... private?"

Butterflies entangled your wires, as D16's servo took yours in a slightly tighter grip. "Where did you have in mind?"

His breath hitched a little, feeling you checking him out. The touch of your servo beneath his sent a shiver through his circuits. Gradual confidence filled his spark, as he leaned in a bit further, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "I know a secluded spot not too far from here. It'll give us all the privacy we need for a... rigorous demonstration."

"Sounds perfect."

D16 gives you a sly smile, his frame buzzing with anticipation as you softly bit your bottom lip. Sliding out of the booth, his optics meeting yours. Extending a servo out to you, a silent offer to follow him. "This way gorgeous."

[shoyoist]

── 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 : monkey d. luffy.

content: fem!reader. unprotected sεx, praise, implied virgin! luffy, inexperienced! reader, possessive behavior, a little manipulation at the beginning (reader to luffy). lots of cum. overstimulation. a mention of being used. confession at the end. note: my first one piece work! kinda nervous honestly v_v

— . ｡˚ ♡ you're hellbent on making the straw hats' captain yours.

thinking about how easy it is to just cry and sweet-talk your way into sitting on luffy's dick <3

he's already crushing on you to begin with. head over heels, almost. the moment he allowed you onto his ship, welcoming you into the crew so easily and ordering everyone to make you feel right at home — it had made his feelings obvious enough.

luffy has space for only two thoughts in that cute little head of his, and it just makes things easier for you to know that one of them is consisted of you. the other being to become the king of pirates, of course.

“how does it feel to be the captain's favourite?" zoro often remarks all sarcastic, and when you simply laugh and wave his comment away, luffy laughs right along with you. he's absolutely clueless.

to luffy, you look so innocent, and you've been so nice to him — you're just so sweet! helping him around, humouring all his jokes and stupid ideas, explaining things to him over and over with such patience when he just doesn't get it. and you even call him captain! you're just so lovely, and so pretty to look at on top of it<3

he trusts you so easily when you give him a pout, letting the tears glitter at your lashline as you ask him, “captain luffy, please?” you tell him you've never been touched like this before, that you need it, you need it so desperately — and you need it from him — to have his hands on you and to feel all full on him.

he agrees so easily, it's adorable. he's so giggly and giddy as he sits you on his lap up in his room at some nameless inn at the next island you stopped at. you'd fallen onto the rickety little couch backed up against the wall, too needy for eachother and too full of excitement to even make it to the bed.

he's so cute as he grits his teeth and groans, fingers digging into your hips as he slows the way you sink into his cock— unable to handle the way your warm, velvet walls wrap around him so well.

and once you're on his dick, it's even easier to get him addicted to having you on it.

“w—wait, wait wait wait—” his jaw hangs slack, allowing all his little gasps and whines and every little curse and word of praise that forms at his throat to freely pour out into your skin where he's latched his mouth onto.

he tries to kiss you, but he just can't focus on one thing enough when you feel so good around him, your thighs straddling his hips so well, your hands holding onto his shoulders so hard as you move up and down— so warm, so wet and so lovely, and suddenly not enough.

he needs more. he wants you to go faster. “more,” he whines, so good at telling you exactly what he wants. he's quite sure by now that you've done this before—and if you haven't, then you're damn good at it despite this being your first time— so he's unabashed. “more, faster. wanna cum.”

“mhm,” you sigh, giving him a heart-eyed look as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly and hugging him to you, giggling into the crook of his neck. “anything for my—ngh—my darling captain.”

at this point, he's in love with you.

he wraps his arms around you then, sliding his body lower in his seat, into a more comfortable position where he can set the pace himself. “careful,” he warns between clenched teeth when your hand slips from his shoulders.

letting you adjust, he grabs your waist, holding you tight in place — gives you a little “hang on, princess.” before he starts fucking up into you his own way.

it's slow at first, but you can feel the way the slap of his thighs against your ass gets harder with each thrust, how the slow, deep strokes get faster and shallower with each hit—and then he's got the tables turned on you, forcing you to grab at his nape, his hair, his arms, anything to retain your balance while he hits it as hard and deep as he likes.

“ah—ah, luffy!”

“captain luffy, princess.” he groans, voice barely there, grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze, loving how pliable you are in his hands. his pace stutters every now and then, dick slipping out to smack at your clit before he's putting it back in with a groan.

and oh, you know he's likely never done this before, but god he's making you feel so good. he's so desperate, shamelessly using you like a toy to fuck into, eyes hazy and body tensing up with each thrust. “aaah, fuck, so good … so good, so goodsogoodsogood—”

and just like that, with one last thrust into you that goes in balls deep and throws stars into your eyes, he cums into you. he cums so hard.

hot, thick ropes of milky white fill you up and drool out of you, dripping onto luffy's thighs and staining the seat below, his cute little ah—ahh!’s of uncontrollable bliss drowning out the wet sounds your body makes as his cock gets milked all up by your messy cunt.

it's enough to make you cum along with him, your walls squeezing him so impossibly tight, fluttering warm and wet around his sensitive tip as he ruts into you, so sloppy now yet still insatiable.

he has all the stamina you knew he'd have and more, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you like. just the way you wanted him to.

sitting on luffy's dick is a task easy enough to do, but getting off proves to be difficult.

“fuuuuck,” he sighs, voice going just a bit pitchier than usual as he sinks into the seat, taking your hips in his hands and nudging you back and forth on his cock, using you to carry himself through his high. the way his base drags at your clit is electrifying, and you can't help but throw your head back and moan.

the post-orgasm high is delicious.

“hah, y’like that? mhm?” he smiles up at you, giddy and dazed. “felt so good, princess. you never done this before, huh?”

“mmm,” you mumble, slumping into him and feeling the way he drinks up your scent, not really confirming or denying his statement.

“hah,” he laughs, tightening his arms around you. “can only do it with me from now on though, mkay? you okay with that?”

after that fucking? hell yes. you're so happy, so full, so warm and so content right now, with his arms around you, his lips on your skin and his dick still throbbing inside you.

you'd known luffy would be good. it's why you'd worked your way to this moment in the first place — but you didn't think he'd be this fucking good.

he'd been a little shy and unsure of himself at first, but god, when he'd finally gotten the hang of it, when he'd finally snapped, he'd fucked you so good.

”heyy,” luffy taps your head gently. “you alright? can you hear me, hm?”

“mhm.” you respond, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder, giving the lobe of his ear a little nibble and making him laugh. “i can hear you, captain.”

“asked you somethin'.” he kisses the side of your head and presses a palm to your back, rubbing the expanse of skin gently for you. oh, he's so in love. “only me, mkay?”

“mkay.” you agree, a giggle slipping from you when he gives you a dopey grin and wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you right against his warm, sticky body and going right to sleep with you in his lap. the couch is old and creaky — but luffy makes a comfortable bed, you think. you can take it, for a night at least.

because after this, you think you might be in love with him, too. and either way, you definitely don't want to get off his dick just yet.

[lovebugism]

if you're still interested in smutty requests.. what about the line "want me to serenade you while you strip?" and it's eddie jokingly saying this to reader and she runs with it and he tries to keep playing but COME ON there's more important things those fingers should be doing 👀

congrats! u win the award for most eddie coded request of all time :D — eddie makes you laugh when you get nervous undressing in front of him (18+, allusion to smut, 0.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“Stop looking at me like that!” you whine with your arms crossed over your nearly bare chest. “You’re making it weird!”

Eddie laughs loud. “Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, leaning back on the mattress and propping his weight on his elbows. He’s got a better view of you from this angle. More of your half-naked body in his sight.

“I can feel you looking at me— It’s making me feel weird.”

“Well, how am I supposed to look anywhere else when you’re in front of me like this, huh?” 

His eyes are lidded and swimming with melted chocolate. You’re not sure how you’ve captured his attention like this, in the tamest underwear you own and your most ancient bra. He’s looking at you like you’re already undressed — like you’re still pretty even though you aren’t.

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, glittering with adoration.

“And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he quips without thinking twice, wild head titled to his shoulder and a crooked smirk on his kissed mouth. “So I guess we’re even.”

His eyes rake over you again, heavy like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen you. 

He pulls his plush lip between his teeth and, almost absentmindedly so, brings his palm to the crotch of his jeans. He grips his covered cock with a pale hand, shifting it slightly within the confines of the denim. It grows slowly and achingly stiff the longer he looks at you.

Eddie looks like a Renaissance painting like this. Ethereal and hedonistic. You almost forget to breathe.

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you say with a forced laugh.

“You’re half-naked in my bedroom, doll— that’s all you need to do,” he chuckles, golden and more sincere than yours. His ringed fingers clutch tighter at his covered bulge. He breathes hard through his nose. “You could be fully clothed, and you’d still turn me on.”

“Stop messing with me,” you argue in a tiny voice, features twisted in a subtle pout.

“I’m not messing with you.”

“Do you want me to get naked? Or should I just stand here for the next two minutes?”

“Two minutes? C’mon. Give me a little credit. At least, two-and-a-half,” Eddie jokes. And then, when you laugh, he assures you. “You don’t have to get undressed if it makes you uncomfortable. Unless it would make you feel better if I serenaded you—”

“No.”

“—Too late.” 

You reach your arms for the clasp of your bra. Eddie’s voice fills the trailer — “do, do, do, do-do-do-do-do-do” — the high-pitched intro to “I Was Made for Loving You.” It makes you laugh loud. A big, girlish laugh that makes your head drop back.

Your bra comes off, and you forget to be nervous.

“Why are you laughin’ at me, huh?” Eddie jokes, eyes going squishy around the edges when he looks at you.

“‘Cause that’s, like, the least sexiest part of that song.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, are you gonna keep singing, superstar? Or am I gonna have to keep my underwear on?”

He goes dumb for a flash of a second, forgets the lyrics and how to form the words of them in his mouth. He jumbles them together for a second in mindless mumbles until the real thing spills from his lips. “—‘Cause girl, you were made for me… And girl, I was made for you…”

You tug your panties down your thighs while he sings for you. You make a big show of it too, tossing the pair of them into your lover’s lap and giggling when it gets him all flustered. 

“Fuck— c’mere,” he urges, as dumb as he is breathless, now that you’re fully naked in front of him. His hand drops to his lap again, palming at his stiffening length to ease the ache there. His free hand reaches out for you. “Can you— Just come sit in my lap, baby, please.”

You don’t know why he’s groveling. You were breaking the second you saw him melting for you. Not thinking straight enough to tease him about it, you settle yourself over his lap — kneeling on the mattress, both of your thighs straddling one of his.

You linger there, just above him. Eddie’s ringed hands reach gently for your warm jaw to pull you closer to him. You don’t give in so easily — “Keep singing for me, rockstar. You got a show to warm up for, remember?”

Eddie blinks up at you, eyes wide and lidded and honeyed. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. Like you’re some ethereal being carved out of stone. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen because you are.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “This is so fucking metal.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[deonsx]

Hi there! :D

I was wondering if you’d do a scenario with Bachira, Rin, Reo, and Nagi having an upbeat cheerful girlfriend obsessed with Sanrio merch! (Specifically My Melody and Hello Kitty hehe)

Thank you sm!! 💕

I want cinnamoroll, good read!!! Nagi,Rin,Reo,Bachira

Rin Itoshi

Rin stood outside the bustling mall, hands tucked into his pockets as he waited. He glanced at his phone, checking the time. A familiar, excited voice suddenly cut through the noise

“Rin! Look what I got!” He turned to see his girlfriend bounding toward him, holding up a bright pink bag with Sanrio logos plastered all over it. Her face was lit up with pure joy, and he could already tell what was inside

“My Melody again?” he asked with a soft chuckle as she reached him, practically bouncing on her toes “And Hello Kitty! They had a limited-edition collaboration! I couldn’t resist!” She pulled out a pastel My Melody plush and a shiny Hello Kitty wallet “Aren’t they adorable?!”

Rin couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, they’re cute,” he admitted, though his tone was calm as always. She grabbed his arm, holding the plush up to his face “You don’t sound convinced! Look at her little ears, Rin!”

“Alright, alright” he said, leaning away slightly but laughing. “She’s cute. But didn’t you say you’d save money this month?” Her face scrunched up, mock offended “What’s saving money when My Melody is on the line? Priorities, Rin!”

Rin sighed dramatically, but his lips twitched into a smirk. “Priorities, huh? Does that include dragging me into the Sanrio store every time we come here?”Her grin widened “Obviously! You love it there, don’t lie”

“I wouldn’t call it love…”Before he could finish, she pulled him toward the store, her bag swinging with every step. As they walked inside, a staff member greeted them, and Rin resigned himself to his fate. His girlfriend was already darting toward the shelves, clutching a pair of My Melody socks like they were treasure

“Hey, Rin! These would look great on you!” she teased, holding up a pair of Hello Kitty slippers “I’m good,” Rin replied quickly, though the faintest blush dusted his cheeks. She laughed, slipping her arm through his as they browsed “You’re such a good sport, Rin. That’s why I like you!”

Rin smiled softly at her, his usual reserved demeanor warming in her presence. Even if he didn’t share her obsession, seeing her so happy made every trip worth it. As they left the store, her arms full of more Sanrio goodies, she beamed up at him “You’re the best, Rin. Next time, we’ll get you a matching Hello Kitty wallet!”

He shook his head with a small laugh “Sure, if it makes you happy” And honestly, he didn’t mind at all

Nagi Seishiro

The rain poured steadily outside as Nagi lay sprawled across the couch in his apartment, his usual relaxed demeanor unbothered by the gloomy weather. Beside him, his girlfriend sat cross-legged on the floor, her energy a stark contrast to his calm. The coffee table in front of her was covered in pink and white wrapping paper, ribbons, and a pile of Sanrio-themed gifts

“What are you even doing?” Nagi asked lazily, his head tilted to watch her “Wrapping presents for my Sanrio exchange group! Look, isn’t this the cutest paper?” She held up a sheet printed with My Melody and Hello Kitty in tiny, pastel hearts, Nagi blinked at it, unimpressed. “Looks the same as the last one”

“It’s not the same!” she huffed, dramatically pressing a hand to her chest like she’d been gravely insulted. “This one has glitter details!”

“Ah, glitter,” Nagi said with a faint smirk. “Totally different” She pouted, but only for a second before her grin returned. “You don’t get it, but that’s okay. I’m a Sanrio connoisseur. It’s my duty to spread the joy” He hummed noncommittally, his attention drifting back to the game paused on his phone. A few minutes later, her cheerful voice broke his focus again

“Nagi! You should come to the exchange party with me!”

“No thanks,” he replied immediately

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun! There’ll be snacks, games… and you can see my collection in action!” She gestured to the pile of meticulously chosen gifts. “Plus, you’d look adorable with a little Hello Kitty keychain!” Nagi raised an eyebrow at her, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Pass”

“Fine, but if you’re staying home, you have to help me practice!” she declared, shoving a small plushie into his hands “Practice for what?”

“For the raffle! They’re giving away a My Melody toaster, and I need to win. You’re going to pretend to be my competition so I can strategize” Nagi stared blankly at the pink plush in his hand. “…You’re really serious about this”

“Dead serious” she said with a determined nod, hands on her hips. “Now, pretend you’re about to grab the last ticket!” He sighed but didn’t argue, holding the plush up like he was considering it. She immediately dove forward, snatching it back with a triumphant cheer

“See? That’s how you win!”Nagi leaned back against the couch, watching her with a mix of amusement and fondness. “If it’s that important, why don’t I just buy you the toaster?”

“No way! That’s not the point! Winning it myself makes it special!” “Hmm,” he murmured, closing his eyes “Guess I’ll leave you to your special toaster dreams, then” Despite his teasing, when she turned back to finish her wrapping, a small smile lingered on his face. She might’ve been obsessed with Sanrio, but watching her light up over something so simple? That was worth indulging every time

Bachira Meguru

The bustling sounds of the arcade surrounded Bachira as he leaned casually against a claw machine, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. His girlfriend stood in front of the machine, her hands gripping the joystick with intense focus

“Alright, My Melody,” she muttered, her tone deadly serious. “You’re coming home with me this time” Bachira stifled a laugh, resting his chin in his hand. “You’ve already spent, what, five tries on this? Maybe it’s time to call in the pro”

She shot him a playful glare. “Excuse me, pro! I’ve almost got it. I just need the perfect angle” Bachira’s grin widened as he leaned closer “You sure? I’ve got a killer track record with these machines. Look at these hands.” He wiggled his fingers dramatically

“Okay, fine,” she said, stepping aside with an exaggerated sigh. “Show me your so-called skills” Bachira cracked his knuckles, stepped up to the machine, and studied the plushie inside—a pastel My Melody with a sparkly bow. He squinted at it like it was a tactical challenge

“Alright, My Melody,” he said, mimicking her earlier tone. “You’re coming home with me now” With a dramatic flair, he maneuvered the claw with surprising precision, his tongue sticking out slightly as he focused. The claw lowered, grabbed hold of the plush, and… dropped it

“Oops,” he said, scratching his head sheepishly. She burst out laughing “Killer track record, huh?”

“Hey, the machine’s rigged!” Bachira protested, though his wide grin betrayed his lack of seriousness “Move over,” she said, stepping back in with renewed determination “I’ll show you how it’s done”

After another intense round of joystick maneuvering, the claw latched onto the plush and finally deposited it into the prize chute. She gasped, spinning around to face him “I did it! I did it!”

Bachira clapped his hands, matching her energy. “You’re amazing! My Melody never stood a chance against you” She beamed, clutching the plushie tightly “This is going straight to the top of my collection!” Bachira tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re forgetting something, though”

“What?” He pointed to himself. “You gotta name her after me “Bachira Melody” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing “Fine, Bachira Melody it is” He slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the arcade, his other hand playfully poking the plushie. “Now she’s part of the family. But don’t forget—next time, I’m winning”

“Sure you are,” she teased, leaning into him with a smile. With Bachira’s cheerful and playful energy, every outing felt like a mini adventure—even if it was just rescuing a plushie from a claw machine

Reo Mikage

Reo adjusted his tie as he walked into the café, the jingling bell signaling his arrival. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on his girlfriend, sitting at a corner table. As usual, her energy was radiant—and so was her collection of Sanrio merchandise spread across the tabletop “Reo, over here!” she called, waving excitedly

Reo chuckled, making his way over “You brought your entire Sanrio shop with you?” She gasped, feigning offense. “First of all, this is only the essentials. Second, look at this!” She held up a My Melody-themed planner. “It’s got stickers, a pen, and a charm! Isn’t it adorable?”

Reo took a seat, leaning on his hand as he inspected it. “It’s cute” he admitted with a fond smile “But didn’t you just get a Hello Kitty planner last week?”

“That one’s for work. This one’s for personal stuff” she explained matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Reo smirked “Of course. My mistake”

As their drinks arrived, she pulled out yet another item—a sparkly Hello Kitty cardholder. “Oh! Guess what I did? I signed us up for a Sanrio-themed cooking class! Look!” Reo blinked, momentarily caught off guard “Cooking class?”

“Yes! We’ll make cupcakes shaped like Hello Kitty and My Melody!” She beamed, sliding the brochure across the table. Reo picked it up, reading the details. “You know I’m not much of a baker, right?”

“That’s okay” she said with a wink. “I’ll do the decorating, and you can handle the boring stuff—like mixing” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Why does it feel like I’m getting the short end of the deal?”

“Because you love me” she teased, poking his arm. Reo’s smile softened as he leaned back in his chair, watching her rearrange her Sanrio merch like it was a prized treasure. “You know, if I wasn’t careful, you’d probably turn our whole apartment into a Sanrio showroom”

“Not a bad idea!” she said, grinning mischievously. “We could have My Melody curtains, Hello Kitty cushions—oh, and Keroppi mugs for the kitchen!”Reo sighed, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Just don’t turn my office into a Sanrio shrine”

“No promises” she teased, resting her chin in her hands “But really, you’re okay with the cooking class?”

Reo leaned forward, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair “If it makes you happy, I’m okay with anything. Even cupcakes shaped like Hello Kitty” She giggled, clasping her hands together “You’re the best, Reo!”

“I know” he said with a playful smirk, taking a sip of his coffee. And as she started planning out their next Sanrio-inspired adventure, Reo couldn’t help but feel a warm satisfaction. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and indulging her whims was just another way he showed how much he cared

Enjoy!

[seren1tyhaze]

Dive

PAIRING: doyoung x afab reader (ft djj)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k (got a bit carried away)

SUMMARY: your best friend drags you out to a club to be her wingwoman as she meets back up with a stunning stranger and you cross paths with the hottest man you've ever seen in an expensive suit and a cross around his neck

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you know how important you've been in getting this across the finish line and you're a literal angel. thank you so much <3 thank you to all my friends who watched me brainrot over this over the past week and inspiring me to keep working on it with your positive words.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, drug reference, profanity, heavy religious imagery in a sexual setting (and I mean HEAVY - so if this is going to bother you, this isn't the fic for you)

PLAYLIST: Dive by DoJaeJung, Angel by NCT 127

This was clearly inspired by the Doyoung D&G promo images with the rosary and the rest was history...

I can dive, I'm diving into you

—

Ouch. You pinch your eyelash with the curler as you lean in closer to the glassy mirror in your best friend’s bathroom. You knew you should be wearing your contacts but had forgotten them at home and you weren’t going to hear the end of it from her if that was the excuse you had for ditching her for the night.

It had been an exhausting week at work but somehow your adorable firecracker of a platonic soulmate since childhood had dragged you to her apartment as soon as the clock hit 5:00PM in the co-working space your small start-up you both worked for shared with some other local environmental companies.

She had shed off her casual work clothes hours before, now wearing a glittery black dress, hugging her hips tightly, strings ruched up the side revealing plenty of thigh, covered with nude fishnets. You envied her long and bouncy locks that flowed down her back, reaching up to touch your straight hair that never cooperated with the curling iron.

“What is it?” she asked from behind you, catching you staring. 

“Is there something on my dress?” she spun around, craning her head to look at her own ass in the mirror.

You started to speak before you realized she was showing off, dropping to the floor quickly before slowly standing again, shimmying her rear as she started to sway to the faint music coming from her living room.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, curling your other eye’s lashes and applying a few coats of mascara.

“Loosen up, angel,” she called back as she moved into her walk-in closet to select her shoes and handbag, using her pet name she had been calling you for years.

You finished up the rest of your makeup, cleaning up the little pile of products and packing them back neatly in their small pouch before examining yourself in the mirror. Your dark hair fell almost to your shoulders, eyes accentuated with smudged dark liner and cheekbones dusted with a bright coral blush that complimented the glossy color across your lips. You had let your best friend convince you to dress up more than you usually did, since she said the club you were going to tended to cater to a more affluent clientele. 

A skin tight white leather crop top pushed your breasts up nicely and you had even let your friend dust some shimmering glitter across them with a large puff earlier. You smoothed the matching devastatingly short skirt and adjusted the lace up black boots that travelled up your long legs and over your knee. You felt confident in the outfit and only slightly uneasy about the night ahead. Your friend had a tendency to scan for her prey of the night the minute you entered a venue and often spent the night locking lips with half the dance floor or as she did the weekend before, dancing on stage with the burlesque dancers at the late night speakeasy.

Standing next to her as you both did final checks in the mirror, you looked like the moonlight and sunlight, night and day, devil and angel. A dangerous pair for any person to come across in a crowded club with these outfits, to say the least. You giggled as your friend planted a glossy kiss to your ear before pushing your hair back into place, following her out of the spacious apartment.

“WOO!” shrieked your friend, waving long fingernails at a tall, slender man leaning against a private booth tucked near the DJ. A warm grin spread across his plush lips and you couldn’t help it when your heart jumped a little in your chest. How your friend always found the most attractive people to surround herself always surprised you (not like you were complaining).

She had met Jungwoo the weekend before at a rave and had gabbed your ear off about the attractive and rich heir to a fortune who lived downtown in the middle of all the weekend excitement and had fed her drinks all night long while clutching onto her hips as they danced. She hadn’t gone home with him but instead had gotten his number and promised to meet him out the next weekend. The next weekend was now and out the two of you were.

Jungwoo was absolutely stunning, bright white hair damp, long, and hanging around his cheeks and across his forehead. He wore a sheer blouse unbuttoned halfway, exposing much of his toned chest and loose grey slacks that didn’t leave much to the imagination when he moved.

Taking careful steps through the crowd, you followed your friend who now had her hand held close to the lips of another man, this one dressed in the remains of an expensive suit, tie loose and sloppy around his neck with several buttons of a crisp pale blue shirt undone. He had dark hair slicked back to reveal his stunning face and his eyes glittered when he pulled them to yours to greet you.

“This is Jaehyun, Jungwoo’s roommate!” she giggled, a glass of champagne somehow already in her hand as she grinned at Jaehyun’s tender kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, girls,” Jaehyun spoke deep and smoothly, his voice like velvet.

You cleared your throat with a small smile and shifted your weight in the uncomfortable shoes, eyes darting past the two men in front of you to a third seated in the booth.

Goosebumps instantly dotted your bare arms as you raked your eyes over one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Even seated, you could tell he was tall with a broad frame. His hand was stretched out across his knee, high end designer fabric covering every inch of his body.

As if in slow motion, he lifted his head from his phone, placing it next to him to take a long sip from the short glass of dark liquid on the table in front of him. He brought his dark eyes up to meet yours and as soon as you made contact you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat, gulping as he peeled his eyes down your body.

You moved a hand to grip your other forearm, suddenly self conscious but equally intrigued, cocking your head slightly to the side. Your vision blurred briefly and you cursed yourself for not remembering your contacts as your loss of focus refused to let you make out the expression on the mystery man’s face.

“Doie - don’t be rude, say hi!” Jungwoo slurred out, taking a strong hand to the small of your back to guide you into the booth and directly next to Doyoung.

“Hi,” he spoke, quiet and soft, pulling his hand off his knee to extend a handshake to you.

You chuckled lightly and let him shake your hand, taking a moment to inspect him further now that you could see him better.

The white collared shirt under his suit jacket was tight (almost too tight) with the top buttons straining against the fabric enclosure. He had a soft jaw and plump lips, dark hair styled in a way that was kept but still messy in a sexy way. When he smiled his eyes crinkled in the corners and his neutral facial expression was hard to read when he wasn’t speaking.

You let your eyes wander down to his tight pants before shaking your head, begging your dirty mind to control itself. It hadn’t been that long since you had hooked up with a stranger at a bar but long enough to let your mind wander within minutes of meeting this man.

Doyoung reached across the table to pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle in the ice bucket and as he did, you noticed a glimmering chain around his neck. As he leaned further, you saw the small black beads on the chain catching the light and much to your surprise, a cross slipped into view briefly.

You sucked in a deep inhale at the sight - this man was wearing a fucking rosary around his neck.

Flashes of hours kneeling for Easter vigil mass, heavy clouds of incense in your face as you held the thurible in a floor length white robe, dark smudges on your forehead, and getting tipsy off communion wine in the church basement with your cousins flew across your mind as you watched him laugh at something Jaehyun said.

Jungwoo swore loudly as he dripped tequila across the table, attempting to pour five shots evenly. You can’t pull your eyes away from Doyoung, watching as he bows his head lightly, wincing ever so slightly at the curse words.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Taking a long drink from your champagne glass and tossing back the shot that is handed to you, you reach into your bag and dig out a carton of cigarettes, pulling the ashtray at the center of the table closer to you.

Pulling a loose stick with your lips, you instinctively gesture towards Doyoung who moves a hand quickly to decline. You shrug and move a bit closer to Jungwoo who is taking a long drag from a neon green vape. He chuckles and tosses his hair from his eyes as he watches the interaction.

“You’re better off making moves on Jae,” he says to you on his exhale. He tosses an arm around your shoulder, nudging your bare shoulder lightly with his thumb, cocking his chin up to draw your attention to a smiley Jaehyun swaying to the music, slightly off beat, as your friend tries to get him to salsa dance with her.

“Doyoung is a little more on the conservative side. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like getting high, barely gets drunk, takes his grandma to church on Sundays, all that,” Jungwoo adds, giving you a softer smile as he pulls your eyes into contact with his.

You narrow your own eyes slightly, not sure if this is some twisted attempt at reverse psychology to push you even more into the arms of his friend. While he was wearing the rosary, that didn’t necessarily scream “priest”. He was in a high end club’s most desirable VIP booth, surrounded by drinks and other substances, with two party boys that looked like models.

“Well he’s taken every shot that’s been poured for him, so I don’t know about that ‘not getting drunk’ part,” you quip back, taking a long drag from your cigarette and blowing it behind you through tightly pursed lips, intentionally avoiding Doyoung’s direction.

“Yeah he and Jaehyun lost some big account today, I think he’s just blowing off some steam. Plus he owes me,” Jungwoo winks as punctuation, making it apparent that he wasn’t going to elaborate on the end of that statement.

Throughout the night you learn that Doyoung and Jaehyun work at a big investment bank, Jaehyun sharing a small apartment with Jungwoo in the middle of all the city nightlife, the three of them having known each other since they were kids. Doyoung seemed to have never moved on from their strong faith-based formative years, holding onto these ideals even years later and still an active member of his family’s church community. When he checks the time on his phone you see the smiling face of an older woman pushed up against his, assuming this to be the grandmother Jungwoo mentioned before.

He’s quiet as you chat with him, having to do most of the talking, but is kind and puts some of your nerves at ease even when your friend is off in the middle of the dance floor doing god knows what with god knows who.

Despite his reserved nature, you feel his eyes trained on your every move, following your lips and hands as you smoke another cigarette, the way you cross and uncross your legs with ease, despite the short skirt that has a tendency to ride up when you wiggle in your seat.

You watch him in the same way he watches you, the way his hair falls into his eyes every once and a while and instead of pushing it away with his hand, he shakes his head lightly, flicking his eyes up as if to chastise the loose strands. When he leans forward to take a sip of his drink or gesture to the waitress, his toned chest is exposed by the undone buttons on his shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, his very presence is intoxicating and it’s affecting you more than you would like. Goosebumps crop up on your arms and you suddenly feel chilled in the warm room, sending a shiver down your spine.

A loud laugh draws your attention across the booth and you are met with the sight of your friend feverishly making out with Jaehyun, sandwiched between him and Jungwoo who has his hand up the hem of her dress, laughing into her neck.

You whip your head back towards Doyoung, giving an awkward smile to him before the chill sets over you again. You train your gaze downwards, examining the patterned carpet on the floor and the laces on your thigh high boots, picking at the edge of the string. You startle at the feeling of fabric being draped over your shoulders, looking up to see that Doyoung has placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder after placing the jacket and you suddenly feel an additional set of eyes on you as you lift up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. He’s staring at your slightly spread legs, running a wicked tongue across his bottom lip as it quirks up into a wry smile.

You feel Doyoung’s grip around your shoulder tighten and turn to see his face close to yours, your heart jumping in your chest when you feel his breath across your cheek. You can’t bear to break eye contact with him, despite the fact that you desperately wish you could see Jaehyun’s reaction.

“You seemed cold,” he murmurs to you, lips almost brushing across your skin as he speaks close to your ear. He smells delicious, like soft musk but still clean and warm. You mentally take note to slyly ask Jungwoo what cologne his friend wears.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster and you resist the urge to drop your head to his shoulder, suddenly feeling lightheaded in the haze of alcohol, nicotine, and the blaring music of the club.

Doyoung reaches to the table for his glass, arm never leaving your shoulder, rolled shirt sleeve revealing a large and intricate cross tattoo on his forearm. At the sight of the ink you are jolted back to the reality that this man is not who you want him to be. You would normally have a hand palming his groin in the dim lights of the club, moaning into his mouth as he gripped the exposed skin on your back and whispered filthy strings of words into your ear.

But no, you had to bag the “Holier than Thou, Man of God.” Of course you did. This was not going to be good for your libido.

Your friend is suddenly dragging you by the hand to the bathroom, moving surprisingly fast in her towering heels.

“Sooooooooo, angel,” she whines from the single use stall she pulled you into after locking the door.

“What are you about to ask me to do?” you sigh, fixing your hair in the mirror as your friend hikes up her dress to pee.

“I’m going to take those two home with me,” she bluntly tells you, as you predicted.

“Yeah I think anyone in this club could have told me that,” you reply, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. You didn’t really care what she did, only frustrated now that you had to make the hike home in an expensive taxi or wait for the unreliable train service.

“It’s fine, babe, I’ll get home okay,” you add, mustering the sweetest tone you can for your oldest friend. She deserved to blow off steam as much as next person, but you loved staying over at her luxury apartment on the weekends and the lazy mornings you spent sipping homemade cappuccinos and doing face masks.

“You’re the BESTTTT!” she nearly shouts, throwing her arms around you, damp hands fresh from washing them in the sink getting your skin wet. You laugh at her, congratulating her on getting her dick wet and ushering her out of the small room with a smack to her ass.

Back at the booth she wastes no time murmuring in the ears of the two eager men before they share a steamy three way kiss that results in Jungwoo tugging Jaehyun’s bottom lip with his teeth, looping an arm around his slim waist.

You are flicking through the various ride share apps on your phone to find the cheapest option, boots feeling uncomfortably tight on your feet after a long night. Last thing you want to do in this outfit is sit on an empty train and make the long walk uphill to your apartment complex once you arrive at your stop.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, face suddenly close to yours again. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that you cannot read when he speaks to you.

“Calling for a car home, I don’t have the luxury of living right here downtown and had plans to crash at hers. I’m assuming my job doesn’t pay as well as yours and Jae’s,” you reply, only lifting your eyes up to meet his after you’ve spoken.

God his eyes are so pretty.

“Why don’t you stay at mine, I can sleep on the couch and my driver can take you home in the morning,” he offers, picking your phone out of your hand and locking the screen.

You open your mouth in protest before thinking more on the offer. His driver?! You would be crazy to turn him down and your friend is already halfway out the door headed towards what will undoubtedly be a night to remember.

You nod and quickly stand, holding a hand out for his, guiding him out the back door of the club. He’s making a call on his phone in a hushed tone while you slide your long coat over his blazer, still wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo giving you a  small smile and wiggle of his fingers as he slides into the back of a cab.

“I love you angellllll,” your friend slurs out dramatically, knowing she is far less drunk than she appears, playing up the antics for the men around her. Jaehyun has an arm tucked loosely around her waist, grinning ear to ear as the evening wind ruffles his dark hair.

You pull your friend in for a hug before she ducks into the car, latching her lips immediately onto Jungwoo’s exposed neck, drawing a chuckle from you on the street.

Jaehyun pauses before getting in the car, dipping down to whisper right along the shell of your ear.

“Angel is it? I don’t know about that,” he practically moans out, voice breathy and deep.

“Seemed like a devil in disguise in that tight little skirt, slutty legs spread in the club for our sweet and innocent Doie,” he laughs out, laying the degrading tone on thick. His finger is under your chin, tipping it up to force you to look at him. Your heart is pounding and flying around your chest and you can feel your cheeks burn.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your back and you don’t have to look to know that Doyoung has stepped up behind you.

Jaehyun gives you a wink, pushing past you to plant a lingering kiss on Doyoung’s cheek, before turning and disappearing into the car.

Before you can say anything to Doyoung, a black town car replaces the cab in its spot on the busy street, Doyoung moving quickly to open the door for you, helping you in with a strong hand. He closes the door softly before moving around to the street side to slide in next to you, greeting the driver in the front pleasantly.

Your head is spinning and you desperately hope there is time to have a cigarette before going upstairs to Doyoung’s apartment, feeling anxiety creeping up in your chest.

Despite the spacious backseat, Doyoung can’t help but be pressed up against you, twisting to look at you as you make small talk. You watch him when he answers questions you ask and listen to a small story about a frustrating email exchange at work, as if the two of you had known each other forever.

Distracted by the beaded chain around his neck again, you reach over, taking the cross gingerly in between your pointer and middle finger, inspecting it. The metal is cold in your hand and nostalgia rushes over you as you hold it in your hand.

“I dip it in holy water every morning to help keep me grounded and ask that God bless my daily travels,” he offers, smiling lightly at you as he explains in earnest. You know by now that he isn’t lying, that there would be no reason for him to.

“I kiss it as well, asking him to bless my words and calm my mind in a world filled with temptation,” he continues, unwilling to break the heavy eye contact.

He reaches out and draws your fingers to his lips, still holding the cross, and kisses the small metal piece, catching the tips of your fingers with soft lips. They are warm and plush, sending jolts of electricity through your hand and to your chest. You have to shift in your seat to calm the throbbing in your core. This gesture shouldn’t be turning you on this much and you know now that if there is a hell, you surely are destined to take residence there.

The tension in the car is thick as you shiver, hand moving before you have a chance to think, bringing his hand and yours to your own lips, copying his kiss. You watch him gulp and pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes darken at the sight of the cross pressed to your lips.

Oh you are so royally fucked.

You watch him as he absently brushes the back of his hand against your own in the elevator ride to the top floor of the sleek and modern building. He lets his fingers tangle with yours briefly before holding his hand out when the door starts to open, bringing the foyer of his apartment into view.

You let a gasp fall from your lips, taking in the beautiful space around you. Lights flick on as you reach down to release the knot holding the laces of your boots in place, stepping out of them carefully by steadying yourself on a small table adorned with realistic looking fake flowers. 

You try to keep your boots tidy under the coat rack, slipping off your coat and hanging it up and checking yourself in the small mirror above hooks of dangling keys. You notice one key with a Kuromi cover, smiling lightly and wondering if he had picked that out for himself. He will tell you one day that it is the key to his mailbox and one of the kids from his Sunday school class brought it in for him after they said Kuromi reminded them of Doyoung.

You follow him to the open living area which melts into the compact kitchen adorned with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. He’s opening the door to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses.

The apartment is warm but minimalistic in style, adorned with shades of cream, black and gray. You half expect to see a statue of Mary where the tv sits but there’s barely any religious imagery present. Maybe you had misjudged him after all.

As you close the space between you, you let his blazer slip from your shoulders, catching it and folding it gently in your hands, looking up towards him through your long lashes as you lean your hip against the cold edge of the counter, offering the blazer to him. Instead of taking the jacket from your hands, he leans forward, brushing a thumb across the high point of your cheek, examining your face.

“Let me know if there is anything I can get you to feel more at home, I want you to feel comfortable,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You feel butterflies in your chest and despite how tired you know you should be, your heart is pounding and core tightening at how close he stands to you in his beautiful apartment, finally able to hear his voice clearly without the sounds of the club or busy streets of the city. It’s velvety smooth and even and his lips tip up at the edges when he finishes his kind statement. You want desperately to push up and capture them in yours but instead nod slowly, taking one of the glasses of water into your hand gulping down some of the cool liquid to try to quell the arousal building within you.

He brushes your skin with his thumb once more before taking the jacket from you, moving to his bedroom and returning moments later with a couple pillows and a large blanket, which he leaves on the plush couch.

“I don’t mind just sleeping out here,” you offer, scanning the comfortable looking room, knowing if you slept in the living room you might be able to more easily slip out unnoticed in the morning. You’ve never been one for tender mornings in bed with a one night stand and this situation shouldn’t be treated any different. You don’t believe he will actually make any move beyond what he has, despite the brief intimate moments you’ve shared since stepping out of the club.

“No no, I insist, take my bed. The bedding was just changed this morning,” he makes sure to note and you realize how rich this man truly must be if he avoided mentioning who exactly changed the sheets. Surely not Doyoung, with his thousands of dollars of clothing and jewelry on his body and on-call car service and penthouse suite.

He moves to open the door to the balcony, cool but comfortable night air flooding the living room as he hands you a vintage glass ashtray from the media cabinet.

“In case you need one before you go to sleep or in the night,” he offers, smiling lightly at the shocked look on your face.

“Jungwoo is always hanging around here when I’m working late and I’ve learned there is no way to stop people from doing something they want to do. I can’t change my friends and I wouldn’t want to. I have things in my life and things I have removed from my life but that is my own decision and shouldn’t affect my relationships with those I love,” he adds, fingers brushing over yours as they make contact to pass the item to you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a shower quickly and then let you have the bedroom and bathroom. If you need it, there’s a toilet near the elevator and some fresh fruit in the fridge,” he continues, resisting the urge to brush his lips over your bare shoulder.

You thank him and take your purse out to the balcony, closing the door lightly behind you but making sure it latches fully. Stepping forward towards the edge of the balcony, you quickly light a cigarette and feel calm wash over you as you watch the flickering lights of the city skyline. The cool air feels good against your cheeks and exposed abdomen, needing desperately to cool down. You try (and fail) to not let your mind wander to thoughts of Doyoung in a steamy rainfall shower, steam gathering on glossy mirrors and hot water racing down toned biceps and thighs.

You burn through it eagerly, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray and disposing of it in a small bin attached to the balcony’s railing before heading back inside. Doyoung is emerging from his bedroom in a tight white tank top and loose grey sweatpants, bare feet padding across the plush throw rug.

“I left you some clothes and towels on the bed but help yourself to my closet if you need something warmer,” he mutters awkwardly, the power balance shifting slightly as he stands in front of you in casual clothes, black rosary still visible proudly on his chest.

“I’ll wash up, if that’s okay? If you’re tired and want to sleep, don’t worry about waiting for me to finish. I usually stay up pretty late and I’m sure you have early mornings,” you ramble, scratching at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Take your time, I usually read for a while before bed,” he gestures to a small leather bound bible on the coffee table. Of course he does.

In the shower, you let the water rush over your body, using some of the small skincare bottles to wash your face and step out, massaging shower oil into your damp skin. You sigh into the warm white towel fresh off the warming rack and feel like you’re living in a dream. 

Can’t I just stay here forever?

You know your modest apartment waits for you a few miles away, with your own much smaller and dingier balcony where you like to sketch in your journal as you watch birds settle on the hanging flower baskets. You could never see yourself living full time in the cold of the city, barely any green space and garbage littering the streets.

Checking outside the bathroom door before emerging, the coast is clear as you step back into his spacious bedroom, lightly touching the clothing he had laid out for you. A large and faded t-shirt that appears to be from a church camp is folded neatly, logo barely still visible. 

A package of unopened cotton boxer briefs is next to the shirt, knowing he must have been panicking thinking of how he could offer you something to wear without it seeming creepy. But he seems to at least have experience taking care of stranded tipsy guests (even if they usually were just Jungwoo and someone he brought home from the bar). You pull the shirt over your head and it falls easily to your mid-thigh, skimming over your hardened nipples, painful as they make contact with the cool air from the vent.

Sliding on the boxers, you pull them up to your waist and the shirt covers them fully. You decide against the sweatpants next to the shirt, knowing they will be far too long for you and opt to instead roll on the pair of long socks before placing the pants back on the dresser. You listen at the door for any noise from the living room, hearing a light hum of music you can’t decipher. Pressing your ear closer you recognize Debussy floating through the air and let out a small smile.

You’re about to tuck yourself into the king sized bed before you realize you didn’t bring the water glass in with you. Scanning the room you don’t see one and silently curse yourself.

Sliding the door open quietly, you stick your head out tentatively, his head lifting to look at you. He looks absolutely adorable, bundled up in a fluffy blanket with his small bible in his lap and two scented candles lit on the table. The music did turn out to be Debussy, playing softly on a record player in the corner.

“Is the music too loud?” he asks, moving as if he is going to turn it off.

“No no, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out in reply, sliding out from the door and covering your chest with your arms, self conscious. This causes the hem of the shirt to hike up, exposing a sliver of the white briefs covering your lower half.

Doyoung’s eyes trail down your body, as if wanting to mentally capture this image of you dressed in his clothes, standing sheepishly in front of him. He pushes away thoughts of you on your knees in front of him, mouthing along his length through his sweatpants while he tugs on your silky and damp hair.

“I, um, just came out for some water,” you add, crossing to the counter to grab the glass before returning to stand awkwardly next to the couch.

“Why does she call you angel?” he asks suddenly, pulling an arm up on the back of the couch, unintentionally opening up a perfect sized space for you to sit next to him.

You smile lightly and cross to sit next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion so as to not crowd him.

“My middle name is Angelica,” you replied softly. “She just took a liking to the pet name many years ago.”

He smiles softly at this explanation, suddenly aware that his other hand has strayed to the hem of his shirt hanging loose on your torso.

“Angel…” he tries, feeling the way it sounds in his voice, feeling the way the words taste as they roll off his tongue. He smirks, pinching the fabric at the edge of the shirt in between his fingers and releasing it.

“Can I call you that?” he breathes out, suddenly closer to your face than you had realized.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” you manage to say in an even tone, hand finally reaching out to touch his chest, flattening against his toned pecs, metal beads digging into your palm.

His eyes flutter, brain clearly short circuiting at the mention of praise, fingers stilling but breathing becoming more labored.

“Can I please kiss you?” you ask, eyes and voice hopeful. You palm the cross on the rosary, holding it tightly in your hand as you pull gently, bringing yourself closer to Doyoung as your eyes slip shut, not waiting for a response.

His lips are on yours suddenly, pressing firmly as his hand flies to your lower back, pressing you flush against his chest, capturing your hand in between your bodies. You refuse to let go of the rosary, pulling tighter so he’s forced to deepen the kiss.

You feel his hand push up the back of the shirt and up your back, as if reaching for a bra to unhook and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, knowing he is far less innocent than he seems.

You rise up on your knees, moving your legs to straddle him on the couch, suddenly feeling something firm against your bare thigh. Your grin grows, nuzzling against his nose teasingly.

“Well, well, look who isn’t such a good boy after all,” you growl out, unable to control how horny you are for this man under you.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, brows furrowed in confusion at your comment. Reaching between your bodies, he pulls out the leather bible and you flush deeply, unable to process that you thought it was his erection.

You avert your eyes from his and reach an arm up to touch the back of your neck nervously but his hand quickly grabs your wrist as he moves your hand to his lap, eyes darkening. When he pushes you down against his sweatpants you feel him harder than you thought he would be, not to mention way bigger than you thought he would be.

“Who said I was a good boy, angel?” he asked quietly, almost sounding annoyed with you. He grips your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him before capturing your lips in his again.

It takes you a moment to respond, brain foggy at the name and sequence of events that had just unfolded. It doesn’t take you long to recover before slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily, fingers lacing his hair to pull him desperately close.

You can’t help but move quickly with him, spreading your thighs to grind slow circles into his clothed crotch, biting back moans that bubble in your throat.

Hands are suddenly tugging at the hem of the shirt and you quickly oblige, peeling off the thin cotton and discarding it on the floor. Your chest is heaving as you sit on his lap in just the white boxer briefs, nipples erect and back arched to push your full chest towards him.

Doyoung hungrily licks his lips, eyes darting over your body as if there’s a time limit to the amount of time he has to look. You know you look good and he knew from the minute he saw you walk in the club that you would be on his lap, tits bouncing as he pressed up towards you with an experimental thrust. A small groan slides from his spit slicked lips as he slides one hand to your lower back and the other to cup your breast.

“Good God,” he lets out before lowering his mouth to your nipple, flicking eyes up to watch as you tumble contrasting curses from your plump lips.

He moves his mouth expertly, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth dragging against your tight nipple. His hand on your lower back feels huge, fingers spread wide and gripping at your flesh as if you will disappear if he loosens his grip.

“Fuck me right here,” you can’t help but mutter into his open mouth after a particularly loud gasp flies from your mouth when you feel the tip of his dick collide with your clothed clit.

He pulls back, face seemingly questioning himself, eyes flicking over to the coffee table with the bible before turning upwards and fluttering shut.

You’re amazed at how this man can have his tit in your mouth one minute and then the next…

“Wait, are you praying?!” you ask in shock, stifling the laughter that builds in your throat.

He peeks at you with one eye open, smiling lightly before closing his eyes again and humming out an incoherent reply.

“Amen,” he says softly after a few more moments have passed.

You don’t have time to question him further when he quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing tight and toned abs and letting his broad chest crowd you in what could only be described as a bear hug. He pulls you close to his chest and you can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own skin.

“The angel wants to get fucked, does she?” he growls as he digs his nails into your back.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he adds before flipping you over suddenly, standing above you as he slides the boxers down to your ankles, leaving your socks on.

He then moves his hands to his own waistband, removing the sweatpants and revealing his hard cock, already flushed and angry with arousal. As he bends down, the rosary dangles from his neck and you can’t help but stare.

You’re laid out, exposed in front of him as he drops to his knees, nudging your knees to widen in front of him. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, controlling and calculated. You have to ask yourself the same question you asked in the club, who the fuck was this guy?

“You asked if I was praying earlier,” he speaks quietly, long fingers dragging along your sensitive inner thigh, avoiding where you want him the most.

“I just like to thank God before I eat,” he adds, eyes glimmering with mischief as he pushes forward, tongue licking a long stripe along your dripping core, sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Your brain is swimming with pleasure at the filthy words he spoke and the way his mouth is warm against your burning core, tugging on his hair and slipping your hand down to his neck to stroke the shorter strands there to encourage him.

His muffled moans send vibrations along your folds and shivers up your spine as he laps at you like it’s the fucking last supper. You feel your release close, thighs pulling in to tighten around his face. He shoves them back open every time they threaten to suffocate him, giving him access to every inch of you. 

Your orgasm creeps up on you and you are suddenly screaming his name, head thrown back on the back of the couch, vision blinding white. Your eyes are clenched shut as you make every attempt to slow your heavy breathing.

You feel warm hands under your thighs and realize he's lifting you from the couch. You let your arms fall lazily around his shoulders and your head loll over as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you gently on your back, he’s suddenly leaning over you, lips brushing against your jaw, peppering kisses up to your ear and leaving more along your hairline.

“That was heavenly,” you sigh out, feeling dizzy from the soft gestures.

He smiles and pushes your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss you. You can’t get enough of his lips, every time they press over yours you’re drawn in closer, wanting more and more.

“I know you said you wanted me to fuck you on the couch and as much as I would love to bend you over and slam into you, I want to see your face when I make you cream on my dick,” he says as if it’s the simplest and most normal sentence on the planet. He sits up, reaching a veiny hand over to the bedside table and into the shallow drawer there.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment until you feel his fingers on you again, rubbing slow circles on you, gathering your post orgasm arousal as he tears open a condom that is carefully dangling between his lips. He slicks up his rock hard erection with your wetness before sliding it on and running a hand through his now messy hair.

You adjust yourself on the bed, propping your knees up so he can crawl between them. He brings his face close to yours and drags his tongue lazily against your lower lip before pushing into you. 

Your eyes widen, feeling the stretch of his massive cock and the look on his face when he finally feels himself inside you. You swear he’s seen the second coming of Christ and you wish you could take a picture of the pure bliss.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a consistent pace of pumping in and out of you, grunts and moans falling from his lips and sounding almost like he’s singing. You almost come at the sight of the rosary dangling above you and moving with each thrust, knowing how fucking filthy this is but how it’s the most turned on you’ve been in ages.

He’s close and you don’t know how much longer you can last after him so you hook your legs around his back and push on him, silently begging to flip over. He obliges and lets you return to a similar position from the couch, him seated against the pillows and you rising up and down on his cock. This drives you insane, watching his face contort in pleasure as you ride him, letting his name fall over and over from your lips like your own prayer.

“Angel, I’m so close,” he moans, pulling you so tight against his chest that you feel yourself becoming one with him. You move together, moan together, and release in strangled cries together. 

You pull back, out of breath and struggling to compose yourself, glancing down at your chest to see an imprint of the cross in between swollen breasts. He has a hazy, happy grin across his face and you know you have to look the same in this moment.

He reaches out, brushing pads of his fingers across the imprint on your chest before dipping down to kiss at the cross mark.

You think your heart might explode in that very moment, suddenly visualizing the two of you holding hands in a church pew or leaning over candles, lighting them and bowing your heads in silence.

What the fuck has gotten into you?

–

Once he finishes tucking the plush duvet around your naked body, he lays flat on his back, exhaling in relaxation for what sounded like the first time that night, and humming out an almost angelic note.

“And on the seventh day, God looked at all he had made and rested from the work he had done,” Doyoung paraphrased, grinning at his joke, turning slightly to nuzzle his face into your bare shoulder.

Your cheeks warmed and eyes welled as you watched your dark haired lover drift off into sleep, arms laying beside him, not clinging to you as they had been all night, as if fully relaxed at how you seemingly fit so easily into his bed, into his life.

Checking the time, you unlock your phone, lower the brightness, and fire off a couple check-in texts to your friend and one to your mother asking if you completed your sacraments as a child and if she knows where your old prayer book is. You can’t believe this man is reigniting this in you and while you know no amount of good sex is going to fully pull you back into a toxic institution, you see the good in him and wonder if there is a world where the two of you can balance his faith and your more progressive views.

The next morning comes quicker than you had anticipated and light is streaming through the sheers covering the floor to ceiling windows. You glance over to see a still sleeping Doyoung, surprised once you check the time, knowing he probably starts his day at the office before you. You check your phone, frustrated at how quickly it will soon be the time when your boss is checking in to see if you are working from home or coming into the office. You send off a quick message to let them know you will have a late start to the day, working from your apartment.

They reply with a teasing tone, noting that you and your friend must have gotten into some fun the night prior since she had called off entirely. Oh boy, couldn’t wait to hear about that.

You roll over, seeing Doyoung’s eyes open in narrow slits, running a wet tongue over his dry lips.

“Morning star,” he smiles at you, placing that same strong hand on your lower back, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giggling as his fingers brush lightly over your spine, tickling you.

“Can I make you coffee?” he asks, pressing lips softly to your temple, holding there and breathing in the scent of your hair, still faintly holding the floral notes from his shampoo.

“You don’t have morning prayers to get to?” you tease, pushing your lips towards his, silently asking for a kiss.

He pulls back, knitting his brows together and almost rolling his eyes.

“You really have me all wrong you know,” he starts, pushing strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheek gently, just as he had in the kitchen last night when you first got back.

“Yes, I have my beliefs and values that ground me. But that doesn’t mean I abstain from every activity marked as a sin in the bible,” he continued, his voice even and strong but not mean.

“I would have thought that would have been obvious by everything we did last night,” he added, pressing a little more firmly on your lower back, gliding his palm down to the slope of your ass to grasp at the skin there.

You gulp audibly, startled by his candid admission. Maybe you did have him all wrong. Maybe you judged this book by the cover too quickly, your opinion shadowed by everything you knew from the devout adults you had grown up around. You had always assumed it was black and white, no gray space between for any compromise.

All you could do in that moment, overcome with emotions you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, was pull him close to you and connect your hips with his to slowly create friction between the two of you. You hungrily captured his lips in yours, sighing into him as his fingers gently tugged your hair and brought you to another two unholy orgasms.

–

You don’t bother showering again, opting to take Doyoung up on that ride home from his driver who arrives in less than fifteen minutes, despite the morning rush hour traffic. You’re soon stepping out onto the busy streets, feet back in those painful boots and coat wrapped tightly around you to cover your revealing outfit you still can’t believe you wore out all night (but probably have to thank for this entire encounter).

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a lost little angel!” comes a familiar voice, catching you as you are approaching the black car, the driver standing with a neutral expression waiting to open the door for you.

“Jungwoo, hey,” you start, stepping towards the man who is placing his motorcycle helmet on the seat, arms crossed as he leans gently against the expensive bike. 

He’s wearing low rise leather pants with a matching belt adorned with a large silver buckle. His jacket is open and you can see a tight and cropped red shirt underneath, exposing much of his toned abs and navel. Nude color blocking rose up the sides of the shirt, covered in black crescent moons and he is wearing a stack of gold chains tight around his neck. A large green stone is dangling from his ear, moving as he speaks.

His hair is fluffy from the helmet, eyes smudged lightly with dark liner, most likely still from the night before. He looks absolutely unreal and your mind drifts to images of your friend pressed between him and the equally sexy Jaehyun in the crowded bar, stirring tension deep in your core.

“How was your night?” you add, stepping closer to him, curious about what your friend had gotten into.

“I’m sure just as sinful as yours by the look of this walk of shame,” he almost sneers back, tone unmatched to the large grin covering his face from his lips to his eyes. He grabs your phone from you and punches his number in, punctuating with a sultry wink. His eyes are flicking up and down your body dramatically, making overly exaggerated facial expressions at you.

You roll your eyes at him, turning to head to the car, wagging your fingers at him seductively and putting extra emphasis in your steps as you know he has his eyes glued to your ass as you slide into the car.

When Doyoung emerges from the shower with a towel tied low around his waist he finds Jungwoo lounging in his favorite chair in the living room, flipping through a magazine he had left here the week before. He looks up to make eye contact with Doyoung, smiling and letting a low whistle slide out his lips.

“Don’t start, Woo,” Doyoung warns curtly, pouring two cups of coffee and preparing them the way they both like.

“Look look, I have Father Lee on speed dial, he’s ready to do an emergency confession for you in the lobby of your office if you need it this morning,” he laughs back, closing the magazine and accepting the mug.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to reach over and slap the back of Jungwoo’s head. He knows his friend is exaggerating but he had consequently already sent Mark a text that he would stop by the church later that day for a chat. Having one of your oldest friends be a priest that was known for being more on the liberal side had its perks.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my escapades all over town or upload racy videos into the shared DJJ iCloud album, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my dick wet,” he replies after a long sip of much needed coffee.

Jungwoo almost spits out his coffee at the vulgar comment, lips twisting up into a wicked smile as he watches his friend, relaxed and shirtless mid-morning on a work day.

“Something’s different about you, Kim Doyoung,” Jungwoo chuckles, tapping back into his conversation with Jaehyun from earlier, who had frantically texted him from the office that Doyoung hadn’t shown up for their morning meeting and wasn’t replying to any of his texts.

“I guess you could say I was touched by an angel,” Doyoung replies wickedly, winking at Jungwoo before standing and letting his towel fall from his hips, whipping it at leather clad knees before walking slowly back into the bedroom.

Jungwoo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face, watching his friend’s toned ass move away from him and examining the red marks dotting his broad back.

“Oh Jaeeeeee, I have an idea for something that could be fun and oh so messy,” Jungwoo whispers into the phone as he steps out onto the balcony, lighting a blunt in the cool morning air, surrounded by the sounds of the bustling city below.

~~

Part Two TEASER + Tag List NOW LIVE HERE

[moonstruckme]

Whimsical! reader with remus where they were previously doing long distance but then reader moves in with remus and sees snow for the first time? She's all :O at the snow and he's all :D at her like he's just mesmerized and thinking of how much he loves her and how cute and perfect she looks to him and how much he wants a home with her<3😩

(If you write this, can you add a bit of their ldr! Before moving in And the other boys?)

Ily! You're an actual saint<3

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! I couldn’t quite figure out how to work in the other boys without it feeling forced (at least to me) but I hope the rest is alright <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It had taken a lot of coaxing to get you to go to sleep the night before. You’d been glued to the window, watching with wide, awestruck eyes as little crystals drifted down to the earth, glowing under the streetlights and crisp white against the dark sky. Remus isn’t sure if he’d ever felt so peaceful, watching you watch the snow, your cheek resting on your folded hands as the darkness outside grew deeper and the fire in the grate smoldered down to nothing. You’d spent a few minutes out in it earlier, before Remus convinced you it’d be way more fun in the morning, once the snow had a chance to pile up. Even so, you’d been reluctant to let it out of your sight. 

So he can’t say he’s surprised that he’d woken up this morning to see your side of the bed already empty. 

He finds you in the same place you’d been last night, perched on the edge of the couch, looking out at the pristine layer of snow that glitters in the sunlight. You’re already dressed. 

“I thought you’d be outside,” he admits. 

You turn around, looking even happier than usual to see him. “I wanted to wait for you,” you say. “Are you ready to go out?”

Remus’ heart swells. He presses his lips together, feeling his mouth curve anyway. “Yeah, I can be ready. You should’ve woken me, dove.”

He goes to the coat closet, pulling out his jacket and a spare for you. He grabs some too-small boots, too. Neither of you had thought about the fact that you don’t own any real winter wear until the snow came in last night, so his things will have to do for now. He finds a pair of gloves Lily forgot last spring that should fit you. 

“I didn’t mind waiting,” you tell him, stepping into the boots. “It’s fun just to look at. So pretty.” 

“Mhm.” Remus can think of something else that’s pretty, but it’s too early in the morning for flirting. 

You keep glancing out the window while you tug on gloves, a jacket. He’s never seen you this excited. It’s so adorable Remus isn’t sure his heart can stand it. He plops a hat on your head and spots your hands trembling slightly, just enough to give you trouble with the buttons on your coat. Remus pushes them aside gently, doing the buttons himself. 

When you step out into the crisp air, the first thing you do is put a boot in the snow. It sinks in nearly up to your knee. You look back at Remus, wonderstruck. Then you turn around and tip back, waving your arms this way and that to make an angel in the fresh powder. He has to help you out of it once you’re done. 

He shows you how to pat the snow between your mitts to make a snowball, and you throw one right at the front of his jacket. Your laughter rings out, as crisp and clear as a silver bell. Remus makes a mental note to never let you enter into a snowball fight with James and Sirius; they go right for the face, and you’re too kind to retaliate. 

When you make a snowman, you insist upon going inside to grab some of your rocks and things to make his face. He ends up with dried flowers for a smile and heterochromia. 

It’s only once Remus realizes how much snow has ended up in your boots that he makes you go inside. He makes hot chocolate while you lay your clothes out in front of the fire and barrage him with questions. 

“Do you ever see those little white foxes when it snows like this?” 

“Arctic foxes? No, not really. I think they mostly stay in the arctic.” 

“What about white owls?” 

“I think I’ve seen some lighter ones before, but not completely white. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” 

“Will we have a fire every night that it’s snowy?” 

“If you want.” Remus sets your hot chocolate in front of you, the mug heaping with marshmallows. “Careful, dove, it’s hot.” 

You take it and smile at him. “Thanks.” You look back out the window, blowing on it gently. 

Remus grins as he watches you. Your cheeks are still flushed from the cold and your eyelashes are wet, the flakes that had been caught in them melting. The air between you smells like hot chocolate, woodsmoke, and hominess. He wants to do this with you every day. 

It’s impossible not to think about how much has changed since you moved in. Just a couple of weeks ago, he would’ve woken up thinking about how long it would be until he could call you. He would’ve complained about the cold over the phone and you would’ve hmm-ed sympathetically in that gentle way of yours before admitting that the cold actually sounds pretty nice to you. Remus would have been sitting right where he is now, looking out the window by himself and describing the snow to you, hearing your voice in his ear rather than watching the rise and fall of your shoulders in front of him. 

Today, he got to wake up knowing that if you weren’t next to him, you were nearby. He got to see the delight on your face, button your coat for you, bury your hot chocolate in marshmallows. He gets to watch your damp lashes twitch, pretty eyes moving from the window to his face.

“What’re you thinking of?” you ask, turning in your seat to face him. 

It’s still too early for flirting, but not perhaps for earnestness. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he tells you. 

Your lips curve, and you take your hot chocolate in one hand, using the other to intertwine Remus’ fingers with your own. Your palm is warm from the mug.

“I’m glad, too,” you say, leaning forward to peck him on his chin.

Remus sets his mug aside to chase you down for more, grasping the side of your face as he sets his lips to yours. Fuck, you’re lovely. So lovely his chest is aching with it. Lovely inherently, and also for letting him do this, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Your lips curve against each other, a mirror image. Remus’ heart feels full to bursting. 

“Do you think we can stay here today?” you ask him, index finger rubbing against his and chin bumping into his own. “We could watch a movie, and I’d like to collect some pine cones if I can.” 

Remus presses another gentle kiss to your lips. “That sounds perfect.” His voice is raspy with want and tenderness, and you rub his finger again in understanding. 

You push your nose into his. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” you repeat.

[shirefantasies]

hello there!! i've been reading your works for a while and they're adorable, i love them so much ;A;

it's actually my birthday today! if it's not too much trouble, could you write the Fellowship (plus Arwen and Eowyn if you'd like <3) and how each of them would spend reader's birthday with them?

if not, then that's okay! hope you have a great day and once again i love your writing :D

Happy belated birthday anon! This is a cute idea 😄

REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED! This is a very old request I’m just getting around to posting.

Warnings: a bit suggestive at times

How LoTR Characters Spend Your Birthday With You

Aragorn

He is not exactly the biggest party person, so unless you are your celebration will be smaller, more intimate. You’ll be woken with the gentlest kiss and a whispered blessing. Whatever you command, Aragorn teases, he is yours…. Beyond that, he is his typical attentive self, cooking your favorite meal for you and laying it out beautifully as he can. Candles, flowers, you name it and he has found it. All day the words pass his lips that the world is all the richer for your entry into it, that he considers you a blessing every day of his life. So much so, in fact, he’ll even tolerate you smashing some cake on him if you feel a bit giddy that night! Shaking his head, he just smiles and laughs it off. It is your birthday, after all, and he is plenty used to the old antics of his friends!

Legolas

You expect a surprise, ironically, knowing Legolas’s air of teasing mystery, and sure enough he whisks you away nearly as soon as he can. Any questioning fails utterly, but at least you get to see Legolas’s dark eyes glitter with mischief as he tells you you’ll see. In the end you’re taken to a little paradise all your own, a treetop canopy with a scenic view. “And of course you have your cake,” he teases, remembering how important it was to you. You’re still in awe of the view, jaw slack at the horizon of endless green blending into the blue sky with its sparse puffs of cloud. It’s amazing, utterly so and you tell him, but the woodland prince insists that the most amazing part of this all is you. Your birth, your entry into the world those years ago, means more to him than he can ever truly convey.

Boromir

Such ambition! Boromir asks you to describe your dream day and vows to give it to you. Taking a boat ride? He’ll find a way. Having a joust? He would be honored to be your partner. A party with your friends? Simply give him the notice and he will invite them all to a grand event! He understands that cake is traditional so he commissions the best of his father’s bakers for yours. All the while of the merriment Boromir’s arm is slung about your waist, his eyes and grin loving as they fix firmly upon you. You may have to restrain him, for he’ll want to hoist your arm up and call out your praises in front of everybody! He definitely tries to be understanding if these ideas make you anxious, however, toning down the party in his mind to a candlelit dinner for two. Hm, yes, perhaps some romance would be a good way to spend your birthday after all….

Gimli

Pretends he forgot. His jaw drops, lips widening into an o shape as he asks oh, was that today? Today of all days? …Followed immediately by mischievous he-he-hes of laughter as he reaches into some pocket or another and pulls out a box. “I jest, of course? You think I would forget the most important of days, the birth of my fairest One? Not in the slightest! Go on, open it up!” Inside is none other than a piece of your favorite type of jewelry, clearly handmade and beautifully custom crafted. Gimli made it himself of course, not a single other dwarf laying a hand on it. “Just like you,” he jokes as you embrace and pull his lips into yours. As far as any other celebration of course he wants to scream it from the hills and drink and dance the night away with you, but if you want no fanfare Gimli will simply walk with you anywhere you go, still telling everyone it’s your birthday, before taking you home for a more private celebration. Hopefully still some drinks and dancing, even if it’s just you two. And something else? Well, he would give you everything you want on your special day, just ask and he is yours…

Frodo

You’ll awake to a pair of the most loving blue eyes you’ve ever seen upon you. Soon as he knows you’ve risen, Frodo reaches over to caress your face, a smile creeping onto his lips before he kisses your forehead. “Good morning, my love. How would you like to spend your day?” Anything you request within reason will be yours. The weather cooperates, luckily, so if you wish to take a walk on the edges of the Shire or take to the market opportunity is availed to you. Frodo will organize a party if you wish it, inviting only your closest friends and family and hoping he’ll be your only dance partner for the evening! Encourages you to be the one to cut your cake, nodding eagerly towards it with a big smile. He spent ages on your gift, a hand-illustrated and bound volume of your favorite story he made with his uncle Bilbo.

Sam

Spends a whole day making your cake himself. It has to be perfect, your favorite flavor and lots of edible flowers to make it pretty! Sam is very sweet with you, absolutely doting on you all day and insisting you don’t lift a finger. Even going so far as to romantically carry you over thresholds if he can. The most loving eyes fall onto you as he asks what you want to do, flushing if you make any more scandalous suggestions and agreeing eagerly, readying himself to pull off the bed and onto your next adventure. It’s the end of the night, naturally, when he insists on cutting you a big slice of your cake and showering you with gifts ranging from flowers to a new one of your favorite comfort items to a special piece of craftsmanship from his elven friends! Party or no, Sam will share a lantern-lit dance with you that night and will be telling you how much he loves you and is grateful you were born all day!

Merry

The type to suggest celebrating on your birthday, if you catch his drift. Loves your eager reaction or if you smack him and tease back, both is good. Morning or evening, he won’t be picky! But in all seriousness, this calls for a celebration and by the stars you are getting one! Merry will have the whole of the Green Dragon singing your praises and wishing you well that night, not to mention being ready with a cake and a hearty meal! All day he’s walking around with the proudest smile and a hand around your waist. His gift to you is the perfect mix of pretty and practical, a gorgeously embroidered coat with bejeweled buttons that had to have cost a lot, but he assures you it’s worth it with a kiss to your forehead and another happy birthday.

Pippin

Writes it down so he doesn’t forget what day it is, then sets himself to work planning you a party! If you don’t like large events then instead of a massive Shire celebration he’ll throw something in your yard or the Tooks will rent out the Green Dragon for a night with all your friends. During the day, though? Pippin refuses to share you, no sir. All his attention is on you from the moment he surprises you with a big breakfast to when he sets aside the dishes. Even getting ready for the day he’ll pamper you, running you a bath and jumping in with you too of course! A picnic lunch in a field of waving wildflowers, lots of shared kisses beneath the sun, and a bouquet hand-picked just for you await! Tells anyone who runs across you that it’s his beloved’s birthday, you know. Your favorite gift this year is a scarf, one quite similar to Pippin’s but in your favorite color instead, the one you wear most. He had his mother make it for you just like the cake! Warning: Pippin will want to hand-feed you some cake and may see about smashing just a teensy bit up by your nose. If you really hate that he won’t, but if you retaliate? Well, your cake fight may turn into another bath for you two and then who knows from there…

Faramir

His brother was always the better one at this, an internal voice tells Faramir, but that makes it all the more exciting, especially because Boromir is happy to help him execute his plan! You are completely unsuspecting of the brothers’s scheme as you pry open the doors to the chamber Faramir asked you to meet him in, lops parting widely in shock at the crowd awaiting you. They all wish you a happy birthday as one, just as your family did for you in your youth. Tears fill your eyes at the sight of the gathering, but you are quickly swept into Faramir’s loving arms. He doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night, either.

Eomer

Good luck getting out of bed that morning! Eomer will be upon you from the moment you arise, showering you with affection and ministrations of your every need and desire. He insists he can even do the cooking, which he does not usually undertake, but when you finally do arise for a meal you find quite a hearty selection awaiting you. From there Eomer takes you out for a ride, insisting you share a horse so he can hold you close and keep you blindfolded- no need to ruin the surprise so early, hm? You feel the incline before you see it, obviously, but after your mount slows Eomer lifts you up and sets you down to restore your sight. The fabric drops to reveal a flowered hill and a gorgeous view of the blue sky, both of which pale in comparison to the sight of Eomer knelt before you, telling you your birthday is a day of new beginnings. Asking then if you’ll grant him the new beginning of a married life with him?

Eowyn

Bless her soul, she makes you a cake. You can imagine how that goes. Looking at it with trepidation, you eagerly pull her to your day’s activities, saving that for the end of the night anyway. Rather, your focus is on the freedom you have to celebrate, taking a ride just to feel the wind in your hair and laugh with abandon at Eowyn’s side. Nearing your ride’s end she lays down a blanket and carries you down upon it, unpacking a meal for you to share as you watch the sunset. You will celebrate with friends and family, certainly, but this day is for you two. Laughter ensues further as you both choke on the cake, agreeing it’s no good but you assure her you love that she made it nonetheless, tackling her down upon the spread fabric with teasing, affectionate kisses. Giggling, she practically peels you off to give you your gift: a sword emblazoned with the Riddermark’s most gorgeous flowers.

Haldir

Haldir was never one to celebrate birthdays. It just never occurred to him to do anything beyond well wishes. So imagine his surprise when you began pondering what kind of cake you’ll make, if your elven neighbors would come for a party. Party? Of course, you say? Raucous celebrations were more characteristic of those in Mirkwood, but for you, Haldir realized with a smile the next time you were in his arms, he would lace up his dancing shoes. Insisting on handling the cake, he enlists Lothlórien’s finest baker, the one who crafts for Galadriel herself, to make you a gorgeous dessert that sits at your celebration’s center. He lets you teach him a dance or two and performs one you both know, letting loose and even just laughing in simple joy. Your gift is his favorite part of the evening, a mantle crafted of the strongest material that will keep you safe and looking beautiful as you always do in his eyes.

Galadriel

Oh, you are going to be pampered. The most beautiful sunlight kissing your skin as Galadriel whispers good morning, caressing your cheek and pulling you into her lips. Spending the morning exactly how she knows you like before treating you to a day of luxury. Healing massages for you both, a ride upon Lothlórien’s boats until you moor at the base of a great waterfall, the power of your love’s ring parting the waterfall as she beckons you into a wonderfully dry and decorated hollow. Therein you share a meal and each other’s company, whispered words of how much you mean to each other and all your desires shared before you are gifted a necklace bearing the great works and designs of Lórien- but most importantly engravings of Galadriel’s love for you hidden beneath the metal swirling around its white stone.

Elrond

Having a complicated family history himself, Elrond takes the task upon his own shoulders to show others compassion, comfort, and most of all senses of belonging and being loved. Of course this extends to your birthday! He wishes you well from the first and tells you what a blessing you are, how you surprise him with your strength and warm him with your smile every day. And do not doubt that you’ll be treated to the most luxurious of baths and Elrond washing and styling your hair for you. Following that is an afternoon lavished with gifts, jewelry and art and all you could ask for. That night, Elrond brings you up to the highest point in all of Rivendell to stargaze and so he can hold you and sway with you beneath the lights that looked down upon and symbolized his ancestors.

Arwen

Unless you specifically request the opposite, she’ll steal you away completely. Gone are you from the many eyes which could fall upon you, gone far off hand in hand with your beloved. Riding away to a secluded hollow where you and Arwen can be free, be yourselves. Lay in each other’s arms, weave flowers in each other’s hair, and flush joyfully and bashfully when she reaches up to feed you by hand, her own face a playful grin. Each kiss she gives you is deep, languid, intent, her hands falling to you as if to hold you there forever, but you mind not being bewitched so by her. Whispers of how grateful she is for your birth shared between your lips until they are joined again. Arwen’s gift to you is a ring, one that bears words of her own writing within its band. My love for all time.

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[rinhaler]

holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

�� 2023 rinitxshi

[acknowledge-reigns]

Hrs & Hrs | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #9: Collaring

"I could sit and talk to you for hours,

Sit and look at you for hours,

Makin' love to you for hours,

Layin' on your chest for hours,

Tellin' you jokes for hours,

Holdin' you close for hours,

And hours and hours..."

Description: Roman and Lilah take an important step in their relationship.

Warnings: Collaring, possessiveness (in a healthy way), vaginal sex, wholesome kink stuff.

Face Claim: Jaylen Barron

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are about Roman Reigns, NOT Joe Anoa'i

Tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Author's note:

Within kink collaring is a very significant, beautiful and borderline sacred act. As a collared sub myself, I would feel naked without it. As if a piece of myself was missing. There are many different types of collars out there, and each collar is as unique as each individual D/s dynamic. To my wife and I a collar represents all that we are to each other and beyond that it represents commitment, desire, protection, passion, devotion, trust, surrender and love; just to name a few. In incorporating this into my kinktober stories I hope only to represent the kink community to the best of my ability and properly portray a moment as beautiful as collaring. And now that I'm done running my mouth, on with the story.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Lilah kneeled in front of Roman, her heart racing with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks, ever since he had told her about his desire to collar her. The symbolism of it was not lost on her, and she felt a thrill run through her at the thought of wearing his collar.

It was a gorgeous 4ct diamond heart choker fashioned in 14K yellow gold that could be used as a day collar, never to be taken off and it costed entirely too much but Roman had of course insisted.

Lilah gasped as Roman brought the choker out of the box. It was even more beautiful than she had imagined, the diamonds glittering in the light. "It's perfect," she breathed, her eyes fixed on the choker.

Roman smiled as he saw the look of awe on Lilah's face. "Only the best for the tribal chief's girl," he said as he moved behind her to fasten the choker around her neck. She could feel the cool metal against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

As Roman fastened the choker, Lilah felt a sense of pride and possession wash over her. She was his now, completely and irrevocably. The collar was a symbol of their commitment to each other, and it made her feel safe and loved. Tears pooled in her eyes at the feeling of absolute devotion. What she didn't realize is Roman was just as emotional.

Roman leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You look absolutely stunning, baby. Your collar suits you perfectly."

Lilah smiled at Roman's words, feeling a warm rush of desire flood through her body. She loved it when he praised her, and the way he looked at her with such possessive intensity made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.

"Thank you, my tribal chief," she whispered back, looking up at him with adoration in her eyes. "I'm yours, always."

Roman smiled and helped her to her feet lovingly. He cupped Lilah's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. "I know you are, my love," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it too. You're my treasure, my queen, and I'd do anything for you."

He pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth as he claimed her mind, body and soul with the collar.

Lilah melted into the kiss, her body molding against Roman's as she gave herself over to him completely. She felt like she was on fire, every nerve ending in her body alive with sensation.

Roman's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and contour as he continued to kiss her. He broke the kiss to nibble on her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You taste so sweet, babygirl.." he murmured. "I can't get enough of you."

Roman quickly shed his clothes, his movements quick and efficient. He was a man on a mission, and he wasn't going to waste any time getting what he wanted.

He then turned his attention to Lilah, carefully removing her clothing and revealing her naked body to him. He ran his hands over her skin, savoring the feel of her softness under his touch. "You're so beautiful," he murmured.

Roman didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself between Lilah's legs, his hardness pressing against her entrance. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but found only desire and submission.

With a low growl, he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt in her warmth.

Lilah cried out as Roman entered her, the sensation of him filling her completely overwhelming. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

Roman began to move, his thrusts powerful and possessive. He claimed her with every stroke, driving himself into her over and over again. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Mine to take, mine to use, mine to love."

Lilah could only moan in response, lost in the sensations of Roman's body moving against hers. The feeling of the collar around her neck seemed to intensify everything, reminding her of who she belonged to.

She arched her back, meeting his thrusts with equal passion. "Yes, fuck yes, " she gasped. "I'm yours forever, my tribal chief."

Roman's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared his release. He could feel his control slipping, but he didn't care. He wanted to claim Lilah completely, to make her his in every way possible.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Come with me."

Lilah felt her own orgasm building, the waves of pleasure growing stronger with every thrust. She clung to Roman, her nails digging into his back as she neared the edge. "I'm close," she gasped. "So close..."

Roman could feel her body tightening around him, and he knew she was close to the edge. He increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into her with all his strength.

"Let go, baby," he urged her. "Let go and come for me. I want to feel you come around me."

Lilah couldn't hold back any longer. With a cry of ecstasy, she let go and surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her body convulsed around Roman's, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching as she rode out her orgasm.

Roman followed her over the edge, his own release washing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure. He thrust deep inside her one last time, holding himself there as he spilled his seed inside her.

He collapsed on top of her, panting and sweaty, but with a look of pure satisfaction on his face. "You are perfect," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. "Just perfect."

[sadly-in-active]

What type of yandere do you think the Ancients would be if they were one

Thank you for the idea anon <3

Yandere Ancients x Reader

Summary: Oh, lookie, lookie here! It seems that you've managed to charm each and every ancient into loving you dearly...a bit too dearly perhaps. But that's just how they show their affections, right? Maybe that one cookie you were talking to the other day is alright and well and not dead in a closet?

TW: Stalking, manipulation, murder, threatening, not beta read and has never done yandere hcs before. Have fun pookies :D

(It goes from least scariest yandere to most)

REMEMBER WHAT I SAID WHEN I HAD NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE 😭

Hollyberry Cookie

She's definitely attached to you, thats for sure.

You know love bombing? Make it like she's sending a tactical nuke right towards your heart.

She's very clingy, but would allow you to go and do things on your own, you just have to tell her what you did and where you went. Oh, and who exactly you were with.

Hollyberry would never lay a finger on you in a harmful way. Why would she if she knows you'll never want to hurt her affectionate and adorable heart?

Golden Cheese Cookie

She treasures you much, much more then any piece of gold or glittering item she could ever create in her kingdom. The kingdom would be worthless without you in it.

Golden Cheese would stalk you and your every move, sometimes even commanding the marzipan cookies to follow you and photograph your day.

Talking to someone that wasn't the Golden Sovereign? Consider them gone, turned to dust in mere seconds.

She's a goddess! Why would you not want to worship her as much as she does to you..?

It would almost make her sad. Luckily, her best option is to make you do it.

And how could refuse such godly words and beautiful voice?

White Lily Cookie

She’s certainly worse then most of the Ancients. White Lily may just keep you inside the Faerie Kingdom at all times, perhaps even convincing Elder Faerie to keep you under house arrest. Although, she wouldn’t tell you specifically…

White Lily always had her eyes on you, the way you smiled at her words, how you hold her close and say how much you love her.

And she’ll convince you almost every time that you need her.

How could you refuse such a sad and pouty face she makes every time you want to doubt her? It’s almost pitying.

Knowing her goals and past, she would want you to reassure her that you love her, no matter what.

No matter what.

Dark Cacao Cookie

He CANNOT lose you. Anything that you do must be monitored.

Hell, he may even want to use Affogato Cookie’s old spells to keep you under his watch, all agreeable and soft..

He has threatened you once or twice whenever you try to question his judgement, saying stuff like:

“My love, don’t fret. I’m only protecting you.”

But your fears and suspicions were confirmed after one of the Watchers you were talking to suddenly went missing the next day. All you did was say hello and made small talk…

You knew he lost a lot, of course he had the right to be protective over you.

Except being so overprotective and going so far as to…eliminate someone out of sheer jealousy?

You had caused this situation. This was worse then what Affogato Cookie did to the King, because you were doing it completely on accident.

So, to stop hurting anyone else, you just…accepted his love, remaining safe and unharmed within the citadel, avoiding everyone in case of another accident.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

He was supposed to be a pure soul. Someone who’d never do anything horrible or wrong…

Yet when he met you, he instantly got attached. Why? Not even he could explain. You just had some sort of connection with him that made Pure Vanilla love you so dearly.

He definitely hurt you while you were sleeping once or twice, and the feeling of watching you thank him after healing you was…exhilarating.

His habits started from little cuts on your legs to full blown “love” bites and deep cuts on your arms and hands.

At first, you didn’t realize it was him, but after becoming concerned by how much it was happening, you decided to pretend sleeping and wait until something happened.

And it was an understatement that you were shocked.

It was more…terrifying, honestly.

And when you confronted him? He practically almost broke down crying, pulling on your clothes and begging for forgiveness and that he wouldn’t do it again.

Oh, how a King fell so far from purity, nobody will know.

Because after this incident, you forgave him. Surely he was going to stop? You loved him after all, of course he wouldn’t do it again..

And he didn’t. The reason? It’s because you’ve started to lose sleep now. At a concerning point…

Was that coffee in the air? No, just vanilla, as usual…

[thewritetofreespeech]

by sometype of magic, gerhard and henrique got cat features! a tail and ears, and maybe purring 🙀 how would reader react?!

“This is an undignified manner for a noble to present himself!” Gerhard roared. Still in shock over the events that had happened.

Magic was a known thing in their world, but actual knowledge of the craft was as elusive as its arts. When VLAD had been sent to investigate a cult of witchy vampires, none of them expected the witch part to be real and were woefully unprepared. No one was hurt, per say, and the cult managed to escape after casting one final spell at the group. Hitting Gerhard and Henrique with it’s dust and giving them well…a few additions.

“Oh, don’t sulk. The doctors said that all in all you are fine. Just a bit more…feline.”

“This is not funny!” Gerhard snapped at [Y/N]. His new tail wagging fervently and angrily behind him.

“I don’t know.” Henrique said. Jumping up on a table in a crouched position. Taking full advantage of his new transformation. “I kind of like it.”

“You won’t be saying that when we are stuck like this forever, you fool.” Gerhard told him. Making Henrique flinch and his ears droop. “How are we to fix this?”

“We’ll find the cult and I’m sure they will have someway to reverse it.” [Y/N] told Gerhard. “My research also suggests that this might be temporary. So cooler head will prevail.”

Gerhard sighed. Accepting his fate, and that lashing out was not helping his problem. “I’m sorry Henrique. You are not a fool. I’m just frustrated.”

“It’s ok Gerhard.” Henrique replied. As always, quick to accept forgiveness.

He jumped down from his table and came over to Gerhard to nuzzle his head against him. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Henrique told him, but kept doing what he was doing. “It just seemed like the thing to do.”

He continued. Even working up a purr as he rubbed against Gerhard, who doesn’t stop him. The other noble seemed to be frozen in a mix of shock and…enjoyment. His hand came up to Henriques red tuff and stroked it. The purring getting louder as another chorus joining in.

“That is adorable.” The men turn to [Y/N]. Henrique’s eyes glittering while Gerhard looked mortified at being caught in this way. They smile and came over to Gerhard to scratch behind his new feline ears. “I always thought you were like a grumpy cat, Ger. Now you have the look of one.”

The man looked ready to retort, but all that came out of his mouth when they scratched his ears was a soft moan and a purr.

“Me too! Me too!” Henrique insisted. Moving away from Gerhard to bump his head against [Y/N] now.

“Ok, ok.” They pet Henrique and he immediately purred with a happy grin. “Should I get you boys some milk too while we’re at it.”

“D-Don’t push it…” Gerhard told them. Though he did not move from his spot nor the pets for sometime after that.

[bitchcakegreen]

I finally watched all four episodes of season 3 part 1 and I have thoughts, as a fan and as a screenwriter/former romance novelist, and professional director. I didn’t have netflix but I got it for this season. I did this kinds of analyzations and such during Game of Thrones. Hopefully people enjoy reading. Full disclosure, I have not read any of the Bridgerton books. (I’m about three chapters into Romancing Mr. Bridgerton)

First off, give me all the Pen and Colin all the time. I’ve been hoping they get together from season 1 and I’m so happy Shondaland didn’t make us wait another season, as the books go in a different order. There’s a lot of subtle nuance to Pen and Colin’s scenes, Colin always seeking out Pen wherever they are, the tent pastry scene followed by Colin clearly eating the same pastry as Pen did. The tent scene was freaking hot. I said what I said. Things of this nature make their love affair so lush. It’s that journey to getting to the carriage scene that’s so thrilling.

I didn’t mind Francesca’s subplot or the Mondrich one but I do agree with many I’ve seen here that the subplots almost took over. There was a lot of emphasis placed on things other than Pen and Colin which annoyed me somewhat. Hopefully when we get to part 2 there will be more intense focus on Polin and the subplots are just rotating around them because right now, with the pacing of these first four episodes, it’s the opposite. Polin feel as if they are somewhat an afterthought.

The Cressida redemption movement I don’t think will last into part 2. I think all this work is to try and make the audience sympathize with her and then when she goes after Pen, Pen as Lady D, and so forth we are supposed to think “OH! But she was being so nice.” Hopefully I’m wrong and they follow through on her storyline because if they don’t…they wasted a lot of time and storyline on her instead of focusing on Polin.

I’m ambivalent about Lord Debling, so meh. Sorry about it.

Anthony and Kate - absolutely unnecessary but I know why they brought them in. One, he is the Viscount so he would be around. Two, they are fan favorite. I get it. I accept it. It was just wasted real estate for me. But to each their own.

I love Mr. Finch and I LOVED he got to be such a beaming brother-in-law for Pen in the green dress. I do wish they hadn’t shown us the dress reveal in the trailer. It would have been such an awestruck moment for us to see it first in the show. Sweeping cape removal and glittering loveliness.

Pen’s sisters and their race to get pregnant. It’s all a setup for Pen to be pregnant first or with the male heir by the end of the season. Cute but really long winded in getting there. There is a now since deleted promo clip of Pen, with Colin standing behind her, where she takes his hand and places it on her stomach. So we’re getting a pregnancy nod somewhere next part. May even be why she faints in whatever scene they show in the trailer for part 2.

Eloise needs to get her head out of her butt. I don’t think she’s angry Pen is LW but more angry that she didn’t figure out Pen was Whistledown sooner. She’s mad that Pen didn’t try to see her during the offseason, yet she tells her at the end of season 2 to get the fuck out of her life. Get it together Eloise. I love Eloise, don’t get me wrong, I adore her. I just want her to stop acting like an ass and TALK to Pen.

There is discourse about the second Colin threesome scene, but there really shouldn’t be. There’s a reason for it. It showcases that Colin is done with the charade he’s been playing all season. He isn’t the bon vivant, dashing rake he’s supposed to be. It’s jarring but it’s a scene with a purpose.

All the Polin scenes are delightful. The balloon scene might be my favorite - the pastry scene I include in this. And of course the first kiss and the carriage scene (which lives in my head on repeat) but I have to say, I wanted more Polin screen time. I think if we spliced all the Polin scenes together we see that out of four hours of film, they have maybe a cumulative 1 hour of screen time. Which isn’t much for a couple that is the lead of the season. Hopefully the ratio will be better in part two.

Merit badges and raises to the Featherington coachmen and to Pen’s maid Rae. They are MVPs and are totally gossiping about Polin. You know that tea was flowing in the servant’s quarters about the carriage ride…

Scenes I hope we get in part 2.

1. Full on sexfest with Pen and Colin, the likes to rival Daphne and Simon.

2. Whistledown reveal to Colin. First I want him angry - that passionate angry we use in romance novels. The kind where the hero is always “I’m so mad at you right now I can’t see straight but I need you writhing with passion underneath me screaming my name RIGHT NOW!” kind of angry. I want ripped corsets and torn skirts. If you know you know.

3. Pen and Eloise make up.

4. Big stupid lavish wedding.

5. More unhinged Queen Charlotte wigs. Because reasons.

Sorry this was such a long post, but I needed to get my thoughts out. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. Now excuse me while I go watch part 1 elevenity million more times.

[beddybites]

hi bite :D I just binged your tiny 21 trio tag (I’ve been on a 21 trio craze recently) and I love them so much. If you have any concepts or cute little head cannons for them I’d love to hear them. They’re just perfect😭🫶🏼 I adore your art sm

awhh hello!!! thank you thank you, this is so kind!!!

hmmm... concepts/headcanons... i do have a bunch! I've posted some in the past so i may accidentally repeat myself a bit haha

also, apologies in advance-- a lot of these are going to be centered on obanai, since he's my favorite among the three..... unfortunately i am biased :(

sanemi can't stand the heat, and he warms up really easily. he's also really picky about his textures and he gets really worked up if he's wearing something he deems bad

a lot of the time he's just left in a shirt and a diaper. he just needs a lot of skin showing otherwise he feels constricted

obanai is the opposite--- he needs to be warm at all times. he shivers like a leaf if he's wearing anything that isn't long sleeves and will wail his little heart out if he's cold

giyuu always has his blanket. big or little brained he always has his blanket with him. he hides under it a lot, whether it be to avoid everyone else or just to take a nap

when sanemi cries he is so god damn loud. he shrieks and screams and will kick and throw things; he just doesn't know what to do with himself...

again, obanai is the opposite to sanemi in that he's a silent crier, and he even muffles his little wails with his mittens or by burying himself against someone :(

giyuu and sanemi have an easier time falling asleep compared to obanai. someone has to sit with him to make sure he falls asleep and stays asleep--

otherwise he'll pretend he fell asleep or try to get himself out of his crib

they all have nightmares. all of them.

sometimes they have to sleep separately Or Else

tengen's favorite baby to take care of is, surprisingly, obanai. he likes getting to hold him and coddle him and he always really looks forward to feeding the little guy from his bottle or rocking him to sleep

sanemi was originally his favorite, but then big brained sanemi threw mushed up carrots and rice in his hair, and it took days for tengen to properly clean himself up

giyuu is the only one who is obedient when it comes to food, so long as he gets to feed himself

sanemi is a nightmare. he makes a huge mess every time. he loves playing with his food and trying to feed others (specifically genya) handfuls of said food. he will giggle like a lunatic as he covers himself and his loved ones in food

again since obanai is so small and weak he has to nurse from a bottle which is a nightmare when he's big and small

when he's little brained its a lot easier but he'll still get sick on himself sometimes :( he has a sensitive tummy

baby giyuu LOVES bath time. he would sit there for hours if he could. he has lots of bath toys and goes splash splash

all three of them are obedient with gyomei and kagaya. otherwise at least one of them is being difficult for one reason or another

big brain obanai hates touch but baby brain obanai loves cuddles... it's another way to keep him warm

he also likes to be swaddled

the babies do arts and crafts sometimes and its always a disaster

kaburamaru gets paint and glitter on him and obanai freaks out

sanemi and giyuu try to eat the paint then both start coughing and spitting and losing their minds

mitsuri and tengen teach them how to be more gentle and careful and such and they learn how to finger paint

obanai always paints a snake

mitsuri keeps every single piece and hangs them up around her estate

muichiro helps them make tiny paper planes

obviously they're babies and they can't actually make it but muichiro helps them and lets them think they did it

uhhh thats all i can think of right now, sorry!! i hope this will suffice :,D sorry for taking so long to respond!!

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 08)

Soap/Reader — MDNI 18+

Sorry for the wait as usual. Hope y’all can forgive me!

/:/:/:/:/:/:/

FEBRUARY — FRIDAY: 7 days until the wedding

In the month or so after Christmas, your relationship with Johnny had progressed considerably. He was on a particularly challenging tour, but you only heard about his work in sparse mentions. Most of his conversations were centered around your relationship “after we tell Pidge”.

It was all he wanted to talk about.

“After we tell Pidge, we can look for a place together in Glasgow. What do you say, lass?”

“After we tell Pidge, we can take trips with them. Always wanted to see Iceland.”

“After we tell Pidge…”

And on and on and on. It wasn’t that you weren’t excited to be with him. You adored him, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. But, telling Pidge was scaring you out of your damn mind. In the worst case scenario, you’d be losing your best friend and the man that you…

Careful, that dark voice was back in your head , don’t want to say the word, huh?

The man that you… liked a considerable amount. Not love. Love was a commitment. You were not in love.

The dark voice cackled. You ignored it.

You were going to see him this weekend for the combination stag and hen party, and you could think of little else. But, you had plenty to work on. As the maid of honor, this was your time to shine. You needed to prepare for more than just seeing Johnny. In fact, you were about to have six girls at your tiny apartment for a slumber party tomorrow night. The whole 600 square feet of your place was decorated in gold glitter and streamers. There were big B-R-I-D-E letters above your bed, and a giant inflatable diamond ring was propped up on your futon. You’d already sprayed Marlowe twice with the water bottle for threatening it with her claws.

Tonight, though, you were alone. You had asked Johnny if he would fly in early, but he hadn’t been able to confirm. So, you were sitting on your bed, staring at your phone, dressed only in his shirt, praying for some miracle.

You stayed up as late as you could, but still no call.

SATURDAY — Early morning: 6 days until the wedding

Your phone buzzed where it lay against your chest. You slowly awoke, and it was still dark outside. Bleary and only semi-conscious, you picked it up without looking at the screen,

“Hello?” You croaked.

“Mo mèirleach,” he whispered, “Open the door, hen. It’s fuckin’ frigid.”

“What?” You didn’t understand. Johnny was outside? You looked at the clock. It was 0311.

“I’m downstairs! Buzz me up.”

You did, and then you waited, waking up more and more as you stood in the kitchen, drinking some water to clear your dry throat.

He knocked softly, and you let him in. Immediately, and without so much as dropping his rucksack, he pulled you into his arms. You smelled his sweat, a strong hint of fire or smoke, and something you couldn’t quite place. It was almost like gasoline, but not quite. He’d come straight from the field.

“Hey,” he pressed his forehead to yours and kissed you gently, smelling your skin and nuzzling into your hair.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, hugging him a little tighter.

Having him back was making you feel like no time had passed at all. He held you just as he did when he told you goodbye in December, and now, all of January felt like some wasted dream.

You looked behind him,

“Where are the others? I thought you said they’d be coming to the party this weekend.”

“Put them up at a wee hotel. The Indigo, just a few blocks away. But, I’ve been sleepin’ on the fuckin’ floor too many nights, now. And I wanna be in my woman’s arms instead.”

His woman. Your heart clenched in your chest. He noticed your emotional response to his words; always the observant one. His smile felt so good, even though he had caught you in his snare,

“Aye. You’re my woman, aren’t you?”

Huge, rough hands warmed your skin as they snaked underneath your shirt, reaching up across your belly, finding your hanging breasts and squeezing them ever so gently.

“Shower with me, lass. I’m right filthy.”

“Alright,” you nodded, and he pulled your shirt off the rest of the way, discovering the nothing you were wearing underneath.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Johnny lamented, holding you at arm’s length to study your skin and curves with a deep admiration, “Look at you, mèirleach. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m dreamin’.”

You led him to the bathroom, which you doubted was big enough for the both of you, and he stripped off all of his dirty clothes. You helped him, peeling him apart, layer by layer, discovering him in pieces.

His broad chest filled your vision in the tiny washroom, and you latched onto his nipple, tasting the salt from his sweat as you did and listening to him moan. He laughed from the sudden sensation of it,

“It’s sensitive, lass. Easy…”

Your eyes found his, showing him that you knew what it felt like, and you did not relent. You enjoyed watching him squirm beneath you, his hands resting on the side of your neck, threatening to pull you away when he became overwhelmed.

You gave him a break, kissing across his tattooed ribs and over his belly. He lifted your face up to his, pressing you against the bathroom counter, growling in whispers at you,

“Careful, thief. Don’t go givin’ me ideas.”

“What kind of ideas, Johnny?” You teased, dragging his boxers down over his plump ass to squeeze his cheeks in your hands.

“Ideas about what I’d like to put in that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

He grabbed your hand and shoved it onto his hard cock, still covered by his boxer briefs, the fabric askew and taut, ready to come off.

“See what you fuckin’ do to me, thief?”

You smiled, staring down at the evidence of what you had done to him. You took his hand and slowly moved it between your legs, letting him curl and experimental finger up just far enough to dip into your wetness.

“See what you do to me?”

He shuddered, his body falling forward, and he caught himself with his free hand on the countertop, pinning you beneath him. He was playing inside of you with his fingertip, as achingly slowly and gently as could be, barely moving it, basking in your warmth. His face contorted into a twisted grimace, and he grunted,

“Fuckin’ hell, mèirleach. Get in the damn shower, or I’ll have you right here, lass.”

The shower curtain rings hissed across their metal rod as he followed you inside. You washed your hair, and you used your soapy hands to wash his. The soap turned brown with dirt and sand, and you made a face, laughing,

“Johnny! You are filthy.”

“Yeah, we ran into some trouble at the end of our mission. Lost contact with base. Had to camp in the wee mountains for a few nights, tryin’ not to freeze to death.”

“Holy shit…”

You pitied him, using your vanilla scented soap to scrub down his body for him, letting him be treated to your sudsy massage.

“Knowin’ I was comin’ back to you kept me goin’. I dreamt about this wee shower, hen. Even Ghost was surprised that I was able to keep my whingin’ to a minimum. But, I knew you were here and I wasnae gonna let anythin’ stop me from comin’ home to you.”

He bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back, letting the water wash over you both, bathing you in the heat of each other. He pulled away, grinning like he’d won something, and you felt the blush rise into your cheeks.

You made the hand signal for him to turn around and he spun, giving you his wide back, planting both of his hands on the wall like you were going to search him.

You started at his neck, washing away days of dirt and grime, feeling his swollen muscles pull and push against his bones. He had a new tattoo on his spine. It was a little Gaelic word that you couldn’t read.

With your fingertip, you traced over the black ink, softly rubbing over the raised skin, healed but fresh. He stilled, realizing you’d noticed it.

“Gealladh. It means ‘promise’.”

You wiped it clear of soap and lay your lips to it, kissing it softly, making him tremble beneath you. You tried to pronounce it, whispering it against his skin.

The rest of the shower went quickly, and by the time you were clean, he was ready to get dirty again, fondling you and rubbing across his curved length hungrily.

He wrapped you in your towel and watched you braid your hair, kissing your neck and sharing your toothbrush. You tried not to be grossed out by it, but you made a face and he rolled his eyes, spitting out the paste into your sink and trying to kiss you with his messy lips. You giggled, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up.

The cool air in your apartment made you clamber to get under the covers, eager to warm up and anxious for him to join you. He sauntered out of the bathroom looking like some Greek god, wet and tanned, tattooed and scarred, fresh from the bonds of war.

He threw his towel down with yours and climbed into bed next to you, curling you up in his arms, sighing with the most delighted contentment. His big jaw pressed into the side of your neck, looking for purchase, and he began to suck and lick at your skin, traveling down your shoulder to your nape, sending shivers down your arms.

“Did you miss me, mo mèirleach?” His voice was so quiet, you could barely hear him.

“I did, mo chridhe,” you whispered back, turning your body to face him.

He took both of your hands in both of his and kissed your forehead. All of his sexual overtones and lurid advances in the shower had somehow been washed away, and as the orange blush of dawn came through your window, he looked changed. His hair was soft, the mohawk all grown out and curling at the tips, his eyes glassy and full of something that looked suspiciously like hope.

“I know this has been hard on you, lass. I’ve been more than just a wee bit selfish, and I want you to know I’ll make it right. I promise you that. Do you hear me?”

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, inching closer to him. He wrapped you in a tight hug, holding you too close.

Did you believe him? Would everything work out for the best? Or were you continuing down a path that would lead to ruin? How easy it was for him to convince you of the opposite. He could lead you like a lamb to the slaughter, and you’d go willingly, bleating up at him with all your love and affection as he pushed you into the chute.

His arm became heavy, and you heard his breaths lengthen in his chest, and you knew he was asleep. You had an alarm set, so you curled up in his warmth, letting him doze, allowing yourself to sink into the murky blackness of sleep along with him.

SATURDAY — Lunchtime: 6 days until the wedding

Johnny had changed into something clean and left you in bed, kissing your face and promising all sorts of filthy things to you after the bar crawl tonight. He begged you to dance with him when you wound up at the club, washing away your worries about Pidge, claiming she’d be too drunk to notice. You rushed him out, warning him she’d be here for lunch, and washed your sheets.

Sure enough, your phone rang and Pidge was outside your apartment, screaming with six other girls to be buzzed up not an hour after Johnny left, and you breathed a sigh of relief they’d missed each other coming and going.

You had the whole day planned out. Lunch was at a little cafe near the river, perfect for a photo op or two. Then, you’d booked a nail salon for mani-pedis for the whole squad. After that, it was back to the apartment to put on your faces before going “out-out”.

For the most part, the day had been a wild success. Pidge was already a little tipsy from the non-stop mimosas, and even though your bank account had seen better days, it wasn’t that bad. Now, you were in the middle of the evening ferality. Someone had ordered a pizza and there was hairspray in places you didn’t think hairspray could go. Marlowe was hiding in her cubby under your bed, and you were already done getting ready.

You’d told everyone it was black and white themed. Ham and Pidge would be in white, with all of you in black, and the goal at the end of the night was for them to find each other by hopping from bar to bar. The stag would chase the hen through downtown Glasgow, and you’d planned to have them all end up at The Berkeley Suite.

There were girls everywhere. It was like a bomb had gone off in your apartment, and there wasn’t really a space for privacy except for the bathroom (as long as you shooed everyone out of it first).

“I’ll just be a second!” You shouted over the thumping music, closing the door behind them.

You took care of business and spent a brief minute checking your phone. You had two texts from Johnny, and when you opened them, your breath caught in your throat.

Mo Chridhe: open this when youre alone thief

Mo Chridhe: blacksuit.jpg

Johnny had sent you a mirror selfie of his outfit, and he looked stunning. You couldn’t believe it was him. You’d never seen him so dressed up. His hair was shaven on the sides, the mohawk back to its full potential, and his suit was a gorgeous black with velvet lapels and a gold chain between the button holes. He wore no tie, instead letting the first two buttons hang open rakishly, showing off his tanned chest.

You texted him back:

You: you are still so damn hot lol

Mo Chridhe: show me you

You obeyed, taking a racy selfie in the bathroom mirror just like he had done. You showed off your cleavage , and the short, high cut of the dress as it hugged your ass. You tried your best to be pouty, just like all the Instagram models, but you weren’t sure if you succeeded.

Mo Chridhe: i might be the luckiest cunt alive or im dreamin

You: lol ;)

Mo Chridhe: ham might be chasin pidge all night but ill be chasin you

You smiled down at your phone before closing the app and returning to the fray.

Glittered, glammed, and ready for a night of debauchery, you took your phone off its charger and made your way out into the cold evening air. Pidge had brought a jacket, but Cherise had decided to go without, claiming that hot girls didn’t get cold. You were definitely cold, so you wondered what that implied.

The first stop was The Variety Bar. You had texted Johnny and told him to warn you before their first bar choice so that you could pay the tab and bolt before Hamish could put his hands on Pidge. But, it didn’t really work out like that. You had all ended up as one big group, and spent most of the time jokingly keeping them from kissing each other. Price held up a wet coaster between their mouths which sent Pidge coughing and spitting, causing enough of a ruckus that you decided to move to the next spot.

Johnny sat with you at the bar while you paid, trying his best to keep his hands off of you.

“Lookin’ like a right goddess tonight, you are.”

“Stop it,” you smiled, “No flirting allowed while your sister is literally right behind us.”

“Och,” he shook his head, “She’s in her own wee world. Where to next, lass?”

You slid the check back to the bartender and thanked him, turning to Johnny and smirking triumphantly, knowing he still needed to pay before he could follow you,

“Don’t you hunt people for a living? Come and get me.”

You left him at the bar, frozen with a delightful look of surprise on his face. You found Pidge and the other girls outside.

“Alright,” you smiled, “Onward. Let’s head over to Max’s.”

“Oh, God,” Anjali sighed, “You really want her to blackout, huh?”

“Fuck it! Max’s it is, ladies!” Pidge screamed.

Everyone cheered and marched on after her. She cuddled into your arm as you walked,

“Thank you so much for this, babes. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, you know that?”

“You are, too,” you kissed her on her temple and squeezed her arm a bit tighter.

By the time you’d had two drinks at Max’s, Hamish’s clan found you again. Gaz was the one who spotted you through the window, holding his hands up to the glass and pointing you out.

“Uh oh,” you smiled, “Last call, girls.”

Cherise laughed,

“I don’t know why we’re running. Might as well just party with them.”

“It’s tradition, right?” Bekah rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Pidge shrugged, “You all can wait here then, if you prefer the boys to me.”

“No! Pidge, that’s not it, babe,” Cherise protested.

Pidge drunkenly waved her off,

“It’s fine, no worries. See you at Berkeley’s. How about that?”

Pidge stormed off out the door, and you followed behind trying to get her to calm down. She eventually did, drinking the water you had bought for her. But, that was how the group got split. Half the boys ended up with you and Pidge and Anjali, and the other half waited at Max’s until the happy hour rounds were over.

You’d gotten all settled in at Berkeley, listening to the loud club music, letting the high of your buzz wash over you, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have Johnny here, dancing with you like he promised.

Then, Pidge realized she forgot her jacket, so she sent you back to the other bar. You left her with Gaz and Ghost, and Price wandered out into the street with you.

“‘Bout time Hamish finally caught his hen anyway,” you speculated as you walked with him.

“Aye,” he agreed, “And maybe your stag as well.”

Your eyes darted up to him and then checked over your shoulder, just to make sure Pidge wasn’t behind you.

Price continued,

“Are you sure keepin’ him a secret is the right thing? He’s dyin’ to tell her. Fuck, he was tellin’ people he didn’t even know about you.”

You smiled,

“Yeah, I know. I just want the wedding to be about her. Nothing is ever about her, you know? She deserves to have a day where she doesn’t need to consider other people’s feelings for once.”

“What about your feelings?” Price asked.

You didn’t answer him. You just shrugged and kept walking. Suddenly, you heard screaming behind you,

“Wait! Wait up!”

Pidge and the rest of the crew rushed over to you and Price.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“We’re gonna surprise Hamish this time,” Pidge smiled, pulling out a big confetti popper from her purse.

“Oh, God,” you grinned, looping your arm through hers and dragging her along.

Nothing was going according to plan that night, but you were so tired that it was hard for you to care. You weren’t even sure if Hamish’s group was still at the other bar, and you hadn’t heard a thing from Bekah or Cherise.

Finally, you made it back to Max’s. Just as you were about to open the door, it burst open and out poured Johnny, tangled in Bekah’s arms. She was giggling and kissing his cheek, leaving streaks of purple lipstick all over his freshly shaven skin. He was holding her close to him, his fingers digging into her side so tightly.

You knew what that felt like.

You gasped, stepping back, stunned. He looked right into your eyes and stopped. The whole world came to a grinding halt. All of the time that you had spent together seemed to lay out in front of you, prostrating itself, and being found unworthy. You felt nothing. Just a creeping numbness that leaked into your core, a fire burning without kindling, unable to be extinguished.

“Och, Jesus and all the fuckin’ saints,” Pidge threw her hands up, “Couldnae even wait until after the party to get your hands into one of my mates, could you? Arsehole. Get outta the way.”

“No, tha’s not it, Pidge!” He frowned, “Bekah doesnae —”

“Bekah, what?” Pidge spat in his face, “Bekah doesnae care that you’ll turn up next month or next year or next week in a box with the wee Scottish flag draped over it? Okay. Now, move yourself from the door, Jonathan.”

Bekah was sort of octopusing herself around him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, sucking on his earlobe, caring very little about the Scottish flag no matter where it was draped.

Johnny was trying to fight her off now, suddenly angry at Pidge,

“What did you just say to me, Brigette?”

“Oh, shut up! You’re just like your da, and you’ll end up dead like him, too. See?” Pidge turned to you suddenly, eyes wild with fury, “This is why I warned you, Johnny MacTavish is a fuckin’ widowmaker. And that’s all he’ll ever be.”

She finally made it around her brother and wrenched the door open, disappearing into the club. Johnny still had Bekah in his arms, and you couldn’t be there anymore. You turned and walked in the direction of your apartment, miles away but hell-bent on getting back there.

“Hey! Wait! Thief, please. This isn’t what it looks like,” his voice was cold and distant. You didn’t turn around to listen. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but you didn’t need to see it to know how it felt.

Johnny could have Bekah. He was allowed to have her. He was not allowed to have you, and you couldn’t have him. That much was clear now. You should’ve listened to your friend. You’d known all along, hadn’t you?

“Wait, mèirleach!”

You spun on him like a snake, striking out sure and true,

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

He could see in your eyes that you were serious, venomous as you were in your delivery. His eyes looked desperate, like a kicked dog, but he didn’t let her go. She smiled and waved at you, looking drunker than you’d ever seen anyone look. You tasted the bile in your mouth from your disgust.

Price jogged to keep up with you, and he grabbed your arm,

“Wait, girl. Just wait a second.”

You jerked your hand away and hailed a cab that was pulled over on your side of the street. You climbed in and shut the door, begging the cabbie to drive quickly, and he did. You stared out the window, watching all of the lights blind you as they seared into your eyes, burning the images you’d seen that night brightly into your memory.

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Chapter 09