#I have a few ideas but feel free to send prompts

[augustinewrites]

“attention, freeloaders! daddy has an evening announcement to make.”

“never call yourself that,” megumi deadpans, already highly unamused by this meeting.

“anyway,” gojo begins, clasping his hands as he paces in front of the tv. “tonight is the night. you two know the drill.”

“yeah, we know the rules,” megumi interrupts again, throwing his head back against the couch. “can you move? the documentary is starting soon.”

tsumiki nudges his shoulder. “stop interrupting. it’ll be over faster if we just let him talk.”

“thank you, favourite child!” gojo smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss atop her head as her brother rolls his eyes. “as i was saying, tonight is our anniversary. so you will not call, text, email, fax, or even send nue with a letter. if you’re bleeding, call shoko. if you get arrested, call ijichi.”

“satoru?” you ask, stepping into the room. “are you ready to go? the car’s here.”

he takes a step back to look at you, pressing a hand to his chest as he breathes, “wow.”

“right?” you laugh, quickly glancing down at your dress. “i am gonna rock your world tonight, babe.”

“oh yeah? we should just kick these kids out and head to straight to bed then.” he’s in front of you in an instant, gently cupping the side of your neck to pull you in for a sloppy, heated kiss. one that he’s all too quick to deepen. his other hand drifting down the length of your back to grab your—

“gross,” megumi scoffs, prompting you to pull apart. “can you guys act like parents for once?”

“sorry,” you giggle, turning to face the kids as satoru rests his chin on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the teen. “i ordered food for you both already and it should be here in a few minutes, alright? call us if you need anything—”

“uh uh,” gojo cuts in, already pulling you towards the door. “don’t call us.”

“my phone is—”

“not going to be on!” gojo fills in, kneeling down to help you slip on your heels.

“we’ll be fine,” tsumiki assures you both. “go. have fun!”

“thank you, honey,” you smile, pulling her into a hug as gojo grabs your purse. “nanami will be here around 10 to stay the night with you guys. the guest bedroom is all set up.”

“so if you need anything, bug him. because we will be very busy.” gojo quips, lacing his fingers through yours. “c’mon, let’s get out of here. be good, you two!”

“goodnight!” you add, using your free hand to blow them two quick kisses before you’re pulled out the door.

_____

“okay babe, you know the deal,” gojo begins with the utmost seriousness as soon as you step into the hotel room, yanking at the knot of his tie. “first order of business is sex. loud, adult, no kids in the next room sex!”

“you’ve been waiting for this for a while, haven’t you?” you ask, though you’re already undoing the buttons of his shirt.

in exchange, his hands find the zipper of your dress, slowly dragging it down.

“oh, you have no idea,” he groans as you trail gentle kisses up his jaw. “we can’t get away with anything in that house.”

“we should make the most of this then.”

“oh, i intend to.”

_____

the two of you lay sunken into the mess of pillows and blankets on the bed, wholly satiated and tangled up in each other in the afterglow.

gojo’s tracing soft, nonsensical pattern across your back as he whispers to you in the dark. “hey, so i’ve been thinking…”

“uh oh.”

he pinches the tip of your nose. “i have good ideas from time to time.”

“alright,” you acquiesce with a roll of your eyes. “let’s hear it then.”

“remember way back then? when the kids were little and cute and didn’t talk back to us?”

“didn’t talk back to me, you mean?”

“whatever,” he laughs. “but you remember, right?”

“of course i do. god, megumi was so cute. and tsumiki! she always wanted her hair in pigtails. it was adorable.”

“right? wouldn’t it be great to have all that cuteness, but condensed into a tiny little baby?”

“you want to have a baby?” you echo, seeming genuinely surprised as you gaze up at him.

“yeah,” he shrugs, feeling his cheeks warm at the admission. “only if you want to.”

“you know babies are a lot more work than kids who have pretty much been self-sufficient since birth, right? we’d have to take time off work and—”

“i know.”

“we’ll have to go through potty training.”

“and we’ll do a much better job than toji. megumi wet the bed until he was seven.”

you slap his shoulder, reminding him that you both promised you’d never talk about that again.

“look we’ll— we’ll raise our kid right,” he assures you. “we had two free trials, and they turned out pretty great.”

“okay,” you breathe, because it’s true. the two of you raise great kids. “okay. before we do this, you need to promise me something right now.”

“anything,” he swears, pressing his lips to each of your knuckles.

“promise me nothing will happen to you,” you whisper, an edge of desperation behind your words. “because i can’t do any of this without you.”

his kiss is a promise in itself. it’s slow and sweet and you contentedly let yourself melt into it. “you don’t have to worry about any of that. you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of My Hero Academia

Greetings, friends! The ending has been announced for beloved shounen manga My Hero Academia by Kohei Horikoshi, and I thought it would be a nice opportunity for everyone to express their love of this amazing series! So I am posting a series of prompts for everyone if they would like to participate in this little fandom challenge.

The idea is that, on each day listed, you will create and post something with respect to the day's theme. By create, I mean whatever your heart desires. It could be a fanfic, a fanart, a fanvid, a moodboard, a diorama, a meta post, a screenshot, a poem, a drabble, a few sentences of reflection, anything really! Whatever your brain dreams up! The only requirements are that it qualifies as some sort of fan creation for MHA and that it pertains to the day's theme. The final day of the event will be the official release date of the final chapter of MHA: August 5th, 2024.

Any given day may have multiple prompts. You do not have to do all of them (unless you really, really want to), rather you may pick the one prompt that inspires you the most! And feel free to interpret each prompt however you like. For example, on day 8, you may wish to interpret "line" as a spoken piece of dialogue or as a drawn shape such as the way Horikoshi does creative paneling. On day 11, you could interpret "name" as a nickname, a code name, the kanji in a character's name, or any special meaning in a character's name. Let your imagination run wild!

You may skip out on days if you wish or need to. You may put as much or as little time and effort into this as you like. You could start working now to make some big works, or you could use this opportunity to do a little daily journal project. The sky is the limit! The goal here is to spend some time thinking about MHA before it ends and to make a collection of little fanworks for everyone to enjoy in the process!

Please tag your submissions as #14DaysofMHA (ideally as the post's first tag) so that everyone can enjoy them!

Without further ado, here are the prompts! Thank you @siflshonen for the assistance brainstorming them!

Fourteen Days of MHA Daily Prompts

Day 1 (July 23rd): Family, Home, House

Day 2 (July 24th): UA Academy, Education

Day 3 (July 25th): Weather, Light Fades to Rain

Day 4 (July 26th): The Ladies

Day 5 (July 27th): Quirk, Special Move

Day 6 (July 28th): Minor Character

Day 7 (July 29th): First Impressions, Just One Bad Day

Day 8 (July 30th): Title, Lyric, Music, Line

Day 9 (July 31st): Legacy, Story, Past, Childhood

Day 10 (August 1st): Emotion, Heart

Day 11 (August 2nd): Symbol (of), Name

Day 12 (August 3rd): Face, Smile, Humor

Day 13 (August 4th): Future, Growth, Change, Evolution

Day 14 (August 5th): Anything you want

Feel free to send asks if you need clarification on anything. I will try to edit in any new information to this original post for everyone's convenience!

[daycourtofficial]

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Summary: you teach the Inner Circle about your home court’s tradition of mistletoe, and someone begins placing them all around the house to catch you underneath them.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Operation Mistletoe by Wkemeup, so feel free to check that out.

“So you just hang them up so you can what- make out with people all the time?” Mor asks, confusion etched on her face as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Sounds awesome,” Cassian says, taking another bite of porridge.

You sigh, “well you don’t really do it to just make out with people,” sending a pointed glare at Mor. “Previous people viewed it as sacred for it’s healing properties, and many view it as a symbol of fertility. It’s only really grown in the Winter Court, but it’s a fun reminder of who we come from.”

Rhys leans forward, “I’m still confused about the kissing thing, I get using it as decor, I suppose. But why kissing?”

“Like I said,” you say, taking a bite of your cereal, “since it survives the winter and blooms during it; many view it as a sign of prosperity and fertility, so maybe people started kissing under it to prompt further fertility.”

Cassian huffs, “you just made sex sound so boring.”

You roll your eyes and point at Cassian, “you’re the one who asked me about winter court traditions for solstice!”

He glares at you, “yeah, well I was hoping you’d tell me you all jump in the lake naked every year.”

You laugh, “oh so you’ve heard of the polar bear plunge?”

Cassian stills, turning his head to look at you with incredible speed. “So you do do it!”

“Well, I don’t,” you say, picking up your glass to drink, “at least, not anymore.” You say with a wink.

Azriel speaks up, his soothing tone taking over the room. “So if you’re caught under the plant, you have to kiss?”

“It’s bad luck not to. You don’t have to kiss on the lips, most people kiss on the cheek or on the forehead.”

-

You woke up the next morning, coming down the stairs, clinging to the robe wrapped around your nightgown.

Coffee, then getting dressed. That was your plan, after all. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, a big perk to living with early risers being that there’s always coffee ready when you roll out of bed.

You start moving for the doorway to the dining room, to see if anyone is eating so you can say hi, when something catches your eye.

Right above you in the doorway is a sprig of mistletoe, tied together in a bundle with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway.

You look at it, just as pretty as they are in your memories, the vibrance of the green capturing your attention, when you hear shuffling behind you. You go to turn to see who it is, when a large hand envelops the right side of your face, bringing your left cheek into contact with something.

Not something, someone. Someone’s kissing you on the cheek. Before you can process what’s happening, the warmth that was pressed against you is gone, and Azriel comes striding into view.

“Good morning,” he says nonchalantly, walking out of the dining room, nodding to Feyre as he passes her and out of the house.

You whip your head around to see if anyone else witnessed what just happened, and you see Feyre sitting at the table, a spoonful of porridge stuck midway between the bowl and her mouth.

“Did you- did that - see?” You ask, your flustered state making Feyre giggle in amusement. You bring your hand up to your cheek where he had pressed his lips to you.

You wrote it off as him getting caught up in the idea of mistletoe, until a few days later when you were heading into the library. Your head was down, trying to focus on not sliding since your shoes were still wet from the rain. You look up in time to keep yourself from running face first into someone’s chest.

You reach your arms out to steady yourself against them, apologizing for running into them, until you look up and find Azriel’s amused eyes looking back at you. You look above him, seeing he has run into you right underneath the mistletoe.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you joke, as you motion with your finger for him to come closer. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him on his left cheek, perhaps lingering a bit longer than you should. Breathing in his piney scent one last time, you pull back, letting him continue on his day.

That night the entire group went out to Rita’s, attempting to have some fun despite the busy season. It seems like these days all of you are working double time to ensure you can keep the day of Solstice free from work.

All of you head upstairs to your private room, just large enough for your group to comfortably lounge about. Azriel stays behind, waiting for a tray of shots to take up the stairs. You decide to stay with him, opting to keep him company while he waits. You would offer to help him carry the drinks, however the shadowsinger’s height allowed him to manuever through the crowd with the tray much more swiftly than you could.

“Is all your solstice shopping done, then?” You ask the shadowsinger, knowing he most likely had finished his shopping months ago.

He flashes you a grin, one he reserves only for you. “Mostly, just little odds and ends left.”

You gasp, “As I live and breathe, Azriel hasn’t finished his solstice shopping? It’s a week away- you’re usually finished by September!”

He rolls his eyes at your playfulness. “There’s one gift left I’ve been waiting for - I just have to go pick it up.”

He leans his left arm against the counter, his body facing the room surveying the area.

“Who’s it for?” You ask, trying not to get too flustered at how close his body is to yours.

He leans in closer to your ear, as he whispers, “Beron.”

He laughs, pulling away from you. You try not to let the disappointment of the loss of his warmth show on your face.

You huff and cross your arms, “fine then, keep your secrets.”

“What about you?” He asks, nudging your foot with his, “any last minute shopping to do?”

You went through the gifts you had bought for everyone, very impressed with some of them. You got Nesta an advanced copy of the next Sellyn Drake novel, some enchanted canvases that allow multiple paintings on them, showing them like a moving picture for Feyre, a hand knit sweater from Winter for Rhys, an exquisite wall mirror for Mor.

Yet you couldn’t figure out what to get the male in front of you. Do you go with simple, so he doesn’t think you tried too hard? Or do you go all out, lay all of your feelings for him out there?

Before you can answer, the bartender presents Azriel with the tray of shots, so you lead him through the crowd of people, walking up the stairs.

You go to turn around and make a comment about how unfair it is that he can manuever through the crowd so easily, when you feel him gently place a hand on your upper arm, sliding down, lifting your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat immediately, as he lets go of your hand, pointing above the two of you, where someone has crudely hung a mistletoe plant above the top of the staircase.

He smiles at you, “tradition, right?“ before sauntering into the room to boisterous cheers that the alcohol has arrived.

The next few days pass and more and more mistletoe made appearances. You found yourself running into Azriel underneath them, wondering if he was catching anyone else under them.

Rhys was grumbling about his house being ruined by the plants, crudely hung by a nail from doorways, arches, balconies, really any surface, but the rest of you seemed to enjoy them.

Azriel wasn’t the only one you ran into underneath them, having run into Cassian a few times, who loved making a big show of it whenever you two were caught under one.

“Oh, sweetheart! We’re caught under the mistletoe! Whatever will we do?” He dramatically, and quite loudly, said to you one morning.

“Good morning Cassian,” you say, as he wraps his arms around you, planting an overly dramatic kiss to your cheek.

He pulls away, letting you go, starting to walk off, but he turns around and smirks while looking somewhere behind you before he’s gone. You look around, but can’t find anyone nearby.

You weren’tt the only one caught under the plant, with most members of the inner circle caught once or twice underneath the plant. You had caught a glimpse of Elain and Lucien underneath one, turning on the spot to provide them with some privacy.

You got caught under it with Nesta, who kissed you on the lips like her life depended on it. The kiss caused Mor to wolf whistle at you two, and Cassian had to pry Nesta off of you after he felt like it was lasting too long.

But it was mostly Azriel, him always catching you when you’re walking through a threshold where the mistletoe is dangling. He had kissed your forehead, your hands, the top of your head, but usually it was on your cheeks, and as much as you enjoyed the kisses, each time you secretly hoped he’d kiss you on the lips.

Rhys sighs, walking into the living room to find that Azriel and Cassian have already been by here, the room covered in mistletoe. From his beautiful crystal chandelier (a delicate heirloom, he grumbles), to the doorways where they’re crudely hung (those nails will leave holes!), to the ones hanging from the ceiling (really?), Rhys is tired of the plant.

The fresh scent of it coats the room, as he walks towards his mate and hangs his head in her shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this?” He grumbles to her.

She giggles, closing her book, “come on, it’s only a few more days, Azriel has some plan cooked up.”

His grip on her loosens, his body going even more slack against her, “yes but why does my house have to suffer for it?”

She coos, stroking his hair as he pouts.

“I think it’s romantic. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I caught you under one last night.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, as Rhys begins kissing her neck.

As if he summoned them, Cassian and Azriel come back through, holding massive bags of mistletoe.

“I’m just saying, Az, you’re going through a lot of effort. I say you just plant one on her.” The general says, shrugging.

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother, “Not everyone is wooed by someone just ‘planting one on them’.” He replies, using finger quotes at the end.

Cassian sets down his bag as a grin overtakes his face, “so you are trying to woo her.”

Azriel gives him a look that would terrify a lesser man.

“Considering the effort he’s going through, Cass, it’s quite obvious what he’s trying to do,” Rhys responds, “even though he’s ruining my house to accomplish it for a girl who looks at him like he created the night sky.”

Feyre tuts at Rhysand, as he straightens off of her. “Well, I find it sweet, Az. And this is my house too, so continue on.”

Azriel smiles at his high lady, grabbing Cassian’s bag of mistletoes as he walks out, blatantly ignoring Rhys and Feyre’s intense staring at each other as they are obviously arguing telepathically.

-

You had left for the day before Solstice to return to Winter to drop off some gifts, but hurried back to Night to be able to spend all day Solstice with your new family. You returned to find the house a green chaotic mess, with mistletoe hanging everywhere. Dozens and dozens of sprigs sprouting from the ceiling, almost looking like a garden on the ceiling.

You can’t find Azriel anywhere, unsure of where he’s gone off to. You actually get caught under a mistletoe with both Rhys and Feyre, each of them kissing you on the cheek, Rhys muttering something about not letting live plants in the house anymore as he pulls away.

You eventually retire to your room, deciding if you can’t find the spymaster, you’ll take a nap to prepare for the evening’s festivities. It’s the night before Solstice, and everyone seems to usually spend the days leading up to the holiday drinking their asses off.

Later that evening, after you took a glorious nap, a nice bath, and spent a while getting dressed and ready, you went up to Azriel’s door, knocking softly on the wood.

He opens the door after a moment, taking longer than he usually does, and he smiles down at you, his build taking up the entire doorframe.

“Hey Az, can you come to my room for a sec? I need your help.”

He nods, closing his door behind him, following you across the hall into your room. You open your door, letting him into your space, and shut it behind him. “What did you need help with?”

You pull out the box you had been holding behind your back, presenting it to him. “Open it,” you tell him, putting it in his hands.

The tips of his ears redden, “aren’t we exchanging gifts later?”

You smile, “yeah, but I wanted you to open this one now.” He undoes the ribbon on the box, opening the lid to find a piece of parchment. He sets the box down on your nightstand, standing up straight to unroll the parchment.

Neatly written in your handwriting are the words “Look up”. He does as the parchment says, looking towards the high ceiling of your room to find a small mistletoe hanging directly above the two of you.

“Happy Solstice,” you say, grabbing his shirt and bringing him towards you. You stand on your tip toes, bringing his face into yours.

At your words, Azriel swears he forgets how to breathe, much less think, as your lips cover his. You taste like cookies and coffee, a taste he wants to get lost in when he realizes he hasn’t moved, standing still like a complete buffoon.

He wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He causes you to lean back, dipping you as he deepens the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes aglow with joy and humor, he reaches beside himself, pulling something from the shadows.

“If you’d like to open your gift,” he tells you.

You unwrap the wrapping paper, opening the box inside containing another sprig of mistletoe. You laugh, but Azriel starts speaking.

“I asked Kallias to bless it. It is an immortal sprig now. I just picked it up this morning from winter.”

He fidgets with his hands, a little worried this gift isn’t as great as he thought it was. “It’s a little piece of home to have year-round. I know how much you love Solstice.”

You smile up at him, “I love it,” and kiss him again.

He pulls back, obviously needing to tell you something. “Um- it was me, all the mistletoe around the house and everywhere we went.” He raises his hands to gesture all around. “Well it was mostly me, but Cassian helped a bit.”

He sighs, “he caught me one night, hanging them up. Nosy bastard,” you giggle. “So he insisted he help, then big blabbermouth told Rhys and Feyre.”

You laugh, appreciating how much effort he truly went to to do this.

“So I may or may not have been sitting in my shadows all week, waiting by mistletoes for you to walk by.”

Your jaw slackens at his admission, but before you can say anything, he continues. “Cassian beat me a few times when I was about to come out and kiss you. He’d gloat all night about it.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“But what about the one at Rita’s? How did you do that one?” You ask, confusion lacing your voice. “I was with you the moment we walked in.”

He smiles, a shadow coming by you holding a sprig of mistletoe. “They can’t resist if I ask them to do something for you.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but he wraps a hand around your neck, capturing your laugh with his lips.

[nichoswag]

Hey Rei! I've been thinking for a while if I should send a prompt request or not, but here we go. 😂 (Hope you'll like it lol)

So my idea is #15 "Please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there." with a fake dating trope. And the idol who first came to my mind was Heeseung, I feel like he would match this well! You're free to decide the atmosphere of the story, I, personally was just feeling funny haha. I hope you'll have fun with this request! <33

flirt . lee heeseung

prompt: "please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there."

pairing: fake bf!heeseung x gn reader

warnings: fake dating au, lots of flirting, kissing, teasing, like one light innuendo

song rec: into it - chase atlantic (warning: song is extremely sexual)

a/n: hii marine! admittedly i did push this to the top of my list because i feel a bit more inclined to complete reqs from my moots ♡ sorry it took so long, but i did have a lot of fun with this request!! i hope you enjoy :))

if someone were to ask you how you got in this situation, you honesly couldn't say you have a clue.

walking into your childhood friend's parents' house hand-in-hand with him, you're still questioning how you got here.

well, to put it simply, you and heeseung grew up together. you even went to college together, and now you're back home together. but, you're now actually together.

at least, that's what you've told both of your parents, after constant nagging and pleading from both ends for you both to date someone. so, your solution was to pretend you're both dating each other.

now, you're shaking due to the nerve of the roles you're both about to play.

heeseung squeezes your shaking hand that's placed in his, sending you a reassuring smile. "hey, it's fine. we're only doing this to get them off our backs."

your heart flutters at his smile and the kind action.

mrs lee opens the door for the both of you. "____! it's so nice to see you," she exclaims, pulling you into a hug.

"moooom," heeseung whines. "what about me?"

she chuckles. "oh, hush. i haven't seen ____ in years."

as she welcomes the two of you into her house, you realize how natural this feels after all. besides, you and mrs lee have always been close, as your moms are best friends, so she's like a second mom to you anyway.

heeseung leads you through the wide hall into the large dining room. sending you a wink, he pulls back your chair for you. you send him a weird look as you sit down, but he ignores it and pushes your chair in, taking a seat next to you.

diagonal from where you and heeseung sit, your fathers are arguing about who's lawnmower does the better job. you chuckle at their pettiness as your mother chastises your dad for picking a fight over such a stupid thing. things haven't changed at all.

you're immersed in a conversation with heeseung until someone takes a seat across from you. it's heedo, your fake boyfriend's older brother.

and your childhood crush.

there's a girl sitting next to him, and they're holding hands, just as you and heeseung were a few minutes ago.

heeseung seems to notice your curiosity, because he leans closer to speak into your ear. "that's yeri, heedo's girlfriend." he takes your hand again and squeezes it. "are you okay? we can leave if you're uncomfortable," he offers, knowing about your long-term crush on his brother.

you shake your head. "i'm alright. just surprised."

he nods, understanding. "are you over him? i mean, you've dated since you last saw him."

"i think so, actually." you smile, nostalgia hitting you suddenly. "he was my childhood crush, so i guess it's just weird for me. it's not like i haven't seen him with a girl before."

you remember the time you saw him making out with a girl at a party him and heeseung had thrown in high school while yours and their parents were on a trip. you'd then gotten drunk on wine to the point of throwing up, and heeseung had held your hair back half the night at your house while you threw up.

then, when he brought his first girlfriend for dinner with his parents. heeseung had invited you over, not knowing he was there with his girlfriend, and you'd spent the evening crying in his room while he held you.

heeseung grins at you, seemingly remembering those nights too. you feel eternally grateful to have someone like him in your life.

he presses a kiss to your temple, seemingly trying to keep up the act. "you hungry, cutie?"

you nod shyly, blushing as he ruffles your hair. "starved."

within a few moments, heedo and heeseung get up to help their mother bring plates of food from the kitchen and set them in the middle of the large dining table.

yeri stares at you across the table. you feel self-conscious as she eyes you up and down, as if she's analyzing how big of a threat you are to her.

heeseung catches a glance at her eyeing you as he sits down, sighing as he realizes what's going on. he glares back at her, and she just smiles innocently, fixing a napkin on her lap. she glares at you as she kisses heedo on the cheek.

"what's her problem?" heeseung whispers in your ear.

you shrug. "i have no clue. I've literally just been sitting here."

he rolls his eyes. "i hope she doesn't cause a scene."

dinner does end up going without a hitch. besides a few more glares from yeri when heedo asks about your experiences in university and settling into your new job, you feel at ease. even when yours and heeseung's parents ask how you two began dating, you're able to answer the questions just as the two of you practiced earlier.

you notice heeseung looking at you with an expression you don't recognize throughout dinner. almost like admiration, except his eyes are fiery. you just think he's playing the role of your loving boyfriend.

mrs lee brings out a tray of sweets. "anyone hungry for dessert?" she practically sings.

heeseung grins and leans close. "mine's already here." he places a hand on your knee.

you choke on your own spit, and he pats your back. "please stop flirting with me, my parents are right there," you whisper-yell into his ear as everyone stares at you both.

your hear giggles, and you realize everyone must have heard what you said.

your mother smiles sweetly at the both of you. "don't worry, we're not judging you. the two of you are adorable."

you blush furiously, and heeseung ruffles your hair again.

yeri huffs from across the table, and you realize she must be jealous of the attention you two are receiving as a couple, not insecure of her relationship. she busies herself with fixing heedo's collar aggressively.

he grabs her hands as the attention turns to them. "what is your problem? you've been like this all evening. can't you just act normal?"

heeseung stifles a laugh from beside you and you nudge him with your elbow. "what's funny?"

he leans over to whisper in your ear for the third time tonight. "just that they're seemingly an actual couple and they get along worse than us."

you giggle, and yeri turns to glare furiously at you. "what the fuck is funny, you callous bitch?"

there are gasps all along the table, and heeseung nearly stands up defensively before you grab his arm to pull him down.

"don't think i haven't noticed you flaunting you perfect boyfriend all night." she laughs mockingly. "you're like a three. how did you manage to pull that guy?"

"get out." heedo glares at his probably soon-to-be-ex girlfriend, motioning towards the hall that leads to the front door.

"what?" her tough front cracks as she wears a scared face. "heedo-"

"i said. get. out." he gets up, pulling her up with him and marching toward the hallway.

you can hear the yelling and screaming still. "i've told you before, she's like a fucking SISTER to me! who are you to talk to my family like that?" "SHE WAS TAUNTING ME WITH HER PERFECT GUY-"

eventually, the screaming is muffled as it seemingly continues outside.

mrs lee gains her composure and proceeds with setting out the dessert. "kids these days are so dramatic. minus my ____, of course. you're an angel."

you smile at her. "thanks, mrs lee."

her smile falters. "honey, why don't you just call me 'mom?' i'll be your mother-in-law eventually, anyway."

you nearly choke again, and heeseung stifles a laugh. "just go with it," he mouths.

you smile again. "sure, mom. thank you for the dessert."

dinner wraps up rather quickly after the dramatic scene. heedo returns at the very end, looking very disheveled as you and heeseung make your way up the long spirals stairs to his room, where you'll both be staying the night.

heeseung lets out a long laugh after he closes the door to his childhood bedroom, nearly slumping against it. "that was a train wreck. heedo has terrible taste in girls."

you giggle. "he should've just chosen me when he had the chance."

heeseung's smile fades. "no, i rather like having you to myself."

your feel a twinge of pain in your heart at the way his smile drops. "hee, i was just kidding. i told you, i'm over him. i think i like someone else now, anyway."

the smile that began to creep onto his face at the first part of your speech drops again as he hears the last part. "oh." his shoulders slump, face looking dejected.

you catch his face in your hands as he turns away from you. "hee, do you really not realize who i'm talking about?"

his eyes widen in realization. "you mean..."

"yes, i mean i like you, lee heeseung." you grin at him.

before you realize it, he's taking you into his arms and picking you off the ground and you're spinning through the air. you both giggle as you come back onto the ground.

now flustered, you look away from him "so..."

"i like you too, ____. i thought that was pretty obvious." he ruffles your hair yet again, pulling you close by your waist.

you giggle. "it kinda was."

he looks at you for a moment, gentle gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "can i kiss you?"

you nod, and he leans down to connect your lips gently. you wrap your arms around his neck, one hand resting on the nape of his neck, and the other tangling in his hair.

he pulls away and you lean your head against his chest, breathless.

"fuck, i think i might be in love with you." the words leave your mouth before you can even think about what you're saying.

he smirks down at you as you meet his eyes, yours wide. "yeah? what makes you think that?"

you inhale sharply. "you've been there for me through everything since we were kids. my heart hurts when you're sad, i feel angry when you're angry, and i'm happy when you are. also, i always find myself missing you when you're not around. i think that's love."

he smiles, eyes shining brightly. "if that's the case, i love you too."

minutes later, you're settled in a pair of heeseung's clothes, waiting on his bed for him to come back from the bathroom.

as he enters the room, your heart races. you've spent nights together as friends, no biggie. but now, it's the real deal.

he sprawls out on the bed beside you and turns to look at you. "cuddle?" he asks, opening his arms. you practically dive into them as they wrap around your body tightly.

you realize you feel safe here. that to you, there's never been any place safer than in his arms.

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

hello! i'm new here so pls excuse me if i'm doing something wrong 😭😭 i was wondering if u could do 12 or 19 w nanami sucking tits 😭🙏

God I love nipple play. Need to write more of it.

--------

He's relentless. You lie helplessly on the bed as he cages your body with his, his mouth suckling greedily at your nipple, squishing your breasts together so that he can fit both of them in his mouth at once. You whimper as his tongue flick from the left to the right.

His mind is filled with dirty scenarios. He wishes he could suck your tits while taking you from behind. It was impossible, sure, but the idea made him so hard. So he settles on having you bounce on his cock so that he can play more with them. Having them right there in front of his face was a turn on too, after all.

You moan as you slide down his cock, letting your ass touch his thighs, rolling your hips, twerking your cheeks to get all the filthy friction you needed. And he was drunk on your tits.

He rolls them between his thumb and index, grinning wickedly at you as you moan longingly. “Does that feel good?”

All you can do is nod, positioning yourself so that when you move, your clit brushes against his pubic bone, adding extra stimulation. He looks down to see your body raising up, almost threatening to let his tip slip out, before pushing back down. "You’re doing such a good job,” he growls, before sucking one of your nipples back into his mouth. He tweaks the other one with his fingers, and his free hands slips between your legs to play with your clit.

The combined stimulation is too much, spurring you to ride him faster. You cum on his cock with a cry, walls squeezing around him, pussy fluttering pleasurably. He grunts, and without letting go of your tits, he thrusts a few times and fills your womb with his hot sticky cum.

"Should try using clamps next time," he mutters, stroking a nipple with his fingertip. "Then my hands are free to do other things."

Send me a prompt!

[adverbally]

I'm a Victim of a Bad Crash

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Upside Down” | wc: 1,176 | rated: M | cw: car accident (non-fatal), mild to moderate injuries, morbid thoughts about death | tags: panic, being left alone with your thoughts, ambiguous ending | title from “Spellbound” by AC/DC

A follow-up to this story can be found here!

———

When Steve comes back to awareness, the first thing he hears is the tinkle of broken glass and the ticking of the car engine. Everything else is muted, like he’s wearing earplugs, but his ears might also be ringing at the same time? He doesn’t think he fully lost consciousness but he’s clearly missed something. It’s very disorienting.

“Stevie?” The voice is frantic. “Steve, can you hear me?”

He should know who the speaker is, their name just on the tip of his tongue, but his brain is too scrambled to remember right now. “Yeah,” he responds, though it sounds like someone speaking underwater.

“Oh, thank fuck.” The quiet sigh of relief is almost drowned out by more shifting glass. “Are you okay?”

Eddie. That’s Eddie’s voice. Steve was driving Eddie home.

The realization sends a surge of adrenaline through him and he starts to make sense of his surroundings. The glass is from the broken windshield, and probably all the other windows, of Steve’s car. It’s dark and rainy outside, that’s how they hydroplaned right off the road and rolled into a ditch. And he’s… upside down? He’s right side up in his upside down car and all the windows are shattered, and now that he thinks about it, his head is pounding and his arm is sore and his chest hurts every time he breathes in.

“Steve!” Eddie sounds concerned again. Steve must have been quiet for too long.

“I’m okay,” Steve tries to say, but it comes out softer than he meant it to. He hopes Eddie can hear him. He turns his head, ignoring the stiffness he feels, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “Are you okay?”

Eddie is upside down, which is actually right side up because Steve is upside down. His face is littered with small cuts, probably because of the broken glass, but otherwise he looks unharmed. He looks more scared than Steve has ever seen him and that’s really saying something. “I’m okay. Just scratches.” His smile, meant to be reassuring, doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you think you can get out?”

Steve fumbles for the seat belt release but it won’t unfasten. He tugs uselessly at the strap across his chest. Still nothing. He’s stuck. Is he going to die here? He wraps his hands around the steering wheel to have something to hold onto.

“Hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath,” Eddie coaches, his eyes still wide and terrified. “I’m gonna get you out.”

The sharp pain that stabs through the left side of Steve’s chest makes him flinch. Okay, so no deep breaths. He vaguely remembers his side slamming into the car door as they flipped. That must have broken some ribs.

“You’re not okay,” Eddie observes.

Steve shakes his head carefully. Being upside down is making his head throb in time with his pulse. “Ribs,” he huffs.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mumbles as he looks around the car for something he can use to free Steve. He must come up empty because he buries his face in his hands for a moment and growls in frustration.

Steve’s throat tightens with guilt. He’s the one who put Eddie in this situation. “Sorry I… crashed us.” His chest is tight enough that it takes two breaths to say it.

“Nope, we’re not gonna do that.” Eddie shakes his head vehemently. “It was an accident, not your fault.”

Fuck, they were just in a car accident. They should call the cops, maybe an ambulance. If they had made it to this stretch of road, they must be close to Eddie’s place. “Home? Call… 911,” he directs, hoping Eddie gets what he’s trying to say in so few words.

He must, because his face twists like the idea is repulsive. “No way am I leaving you. We’re right off the road, someone will see the car and get help.”

“Eds,” Steve sighs, mostly because he can’t seem to get enough air for much more. “Dunno if… I can wait.”

Eddie looks at him intently. It feels like he’s searching his gaze for something, or maybe trying to read his mind. “Okay. I’m gonna go as fast as I can. You better not be dead by the time I come back.” The last part is clearly meant to be a joke but Eddie can’t muster the levity to make it sound like anything other than a plea.

“Promise,” Steve agrees.

For a second, it looks like Eddie is going to kiss him goodbye, but he seems to think better of it about halfway to Steve’s face. Instead, he turns to the passenger side door, carefully eases it open, and climbs out of the car.

Steve closes his eyes and listens as Eddie slowly moves through the debris surrounding the car. It’s not long before he reaches the road and starts to run. Steve is aware of every footfall, every time one of Eddie’s ratty sneakers strikes the wet asphalt, until he gets too far away for Steve to hear him.

Then Steve is alone with his quick, shallow breaths, his thudding heartbeat, the blood roaring in his ears, the creak of metal and the tinkle of glass. There are no other cars driving by, no signs of life other than him. Even the rain has stopped.

He tries to sit up in a kind of partial crunch position to reduce some of the pressure in his head, but it pulls at his chest in ways that make him too conscious of his ribs and lungs. Humans weren’t made to be upside down, he thinks. He can’t think about it too hard or he’ll start imagining how he’ll die alone in this car, suspended by his seat belt, red-faced and blue-lipped for Eddie to find when he comes back…

Steve’s next breath isn’t deep but it is deliberately slow. He has to stay calm. Help is coming. Another shallow, drawn-out breath. Are his lungs not working? Is that why he feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen? Don’t think about it, take another breath. He really hopes his last words to Eddie weren’t a lie. Breathe again. Should he try to slip out of the seat belt? His ribs probably wouldn’t hold up to a bad landing but that’s better than suffocating like this. Again, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth. Is he suffocating? He would probably be able to tell. Wouldn’t he? Breathe again.

He should’ve been counting. Breaths, seconds, anything to help him keep track of how long it’s been. He could look at his watch but it’s useless since he didn’t make note of the time when Eddie left. It feels like hours. It can’t have been. But why else would he be so tired? Steve is pretty sure he doesn’t have a concussion this time, but he should probably stay awake anyway. Even going against gravity, his eyelids feel like lead weights. It takes forever for him to blink. His eyes hurt, so he closes them.

Eddie will wake him up when he gets back.

[veroniquesboutique]

A Pain Like Home - Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Back-to-back smutty fics? I've hit my stride!

Total transparency, this idea came to me while perusing a few smut prompt posts. One of the prompts literally possessed my body, and I had to get the words out as fast as possible. I conceived of the idea, wrote it, and edited it in a matter of a day and a half, which is way faster than these things usually go.

You and Tsukishima Kei broke up months ago as your life fell into a downward spiral. However, every time you go searching for home, you inexplicably end up right back in his arms.

Hope you enjoy!

Title: A Pain Like Home

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, Explicit PV Sex, fingering, m-handjob, couch sex, unprotected sex, crying during sex, chest/body shots, baby used once as pet name, ANGST, ex sex, college au, mention of parent death, mention of injury, Y/N has chronic pain, super brief mention of suicidal ideation, Tsuki is kind of a dick in this one, but then again so are you

Characters & ships: ex!Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word count: 4.6k words

A/N: This Y/N really tiptoes a line between reader insert and OC. She has a lot more backstory than my usual reader fics have. If you'd prefer more of a blank slate (and don't need to know the backstory of how you and Tsuki have found yourself in this situation to enjoy the explicit angst), then feel free to skip the italicized part. If you're here for the angst, though, I'd highly recommend it.

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

“You always end up back here.”

You jump, startled, at the sound of Kei Tsukkishima’s voice echoing through the gymnasium. It was late - later than usual - and the lights had been dimmed, so you weren’t expecting anyone when you slipped your key into the door’s lock. Your college’s gym feels more like home than any other place, and sometimes, on nights like this one, you needed to feel like you were home. On nights like this one, you broke into the gym.

It was about 50/50 on if you ran into your ex, Tsukki.

On this evening, the net was still up following the men’s team practice, and Tsukki was on the far side of the gym away from you. You could stay split like this, share the court half and half, and everyone could be happy.

“I could say the same for you,” You toss the comment at him, unbothered and unprovoked, just as you toss your gym bag to the ground out of the way and pick up the first wayward volleyball you see. You press your fingers into it, bounce it off the floor a few times, and then lob it into the air and strike it down hard and fast on your own side of the court. It hits the ground with a loud smack and bounces into the bleachers, wildly pinballing around, but you’re too distracted in picking up your next ball to pay too much attention. “I could set for you, if you want,” Tsukki half-heartedly spikes his own volleyball, but his attention is on you as you whip every ounce of fury and burning hurt into your shoulder and through the ball as it ricochets from your hand and into the rafters.

“I don’t need a setter.”

“No, you don’t,” He observes another ball whiz through the air, “But it could make this practice meaningful instead of you just hitting balls because you feel like it.”

You glare at him, squeezing the volleyball you have between your hands, knowing the way that this goes every single time.

Still, you were the one who chose to come home.

“Fine.” You duck under the net to join him on his side and pass him the volleyball with too much force that he diffuses easily under his taped finger tips. He bounces it once before sending it up in the air, and you, too, jump through the air to strike it down with a hard smack. It hits the floor with speed and precision, and despite the surprise gently caressing Tsukki’s face in the bend of his eyebrows or the twitch of his mouth, you roll your neck, shake it off, and get in position to hit another one. A pain shoots up through your leg, but you swallow it down, ignore it, push through it.

“You’ve been practicing.”

“Sometimes.”

“You’re being short. And I don’t just mean your height-”

“Just set the next one, Kei.”

He puffs out an annoyed sigh, but still he nods and sends another into the air. You jump again, smack, and fall. The ball nearly causes the air to crack with it’s intensity. That one hurt just a little, and you’re left rubbing the sting out of your palm as Tsukki traverses the gym, collecting the rogue balls to keep setting to you.

“Is it the same old problems?”

“You don’t get to know that anymore.”

Tsukki tosses another in the air, and you smack it down. He tosses again, you smack again. Toss, smack. Toss, smack. Toss, smack. By the time he runs out of balls again, your heart feels nearly as numb as your hands. You try to walk through the pain wrecking havoc in your body, but each step is a stumble instead of a stride. He starts to collect the balls again but stops by the net and turns back to you as you lean your body forward, hands on your knees and gasping for air.

“Look, you can say it’s not my place, but it is. You come in here fuming all the time when you have the power to change the circumstances you’re in-”

“-if I wanted your advice I’d ask-”

“You spend all this time trying to make other people fucking happy, acting like you have no choice, but you’re not powerless. You’re not some fucking damsel in distress. Make a goddamned decision for once.”

“I did when I left you.”

He scoffs out a disbelieving laugh. “What, to hop over to bench warmer Fuckface McGee to chase something to fill the void in you? I don’t even know the guy’s name, but it’s not like it matters because you’ve slept through the entire volleyball team roster. You just happened to start with me.”

You stare at him, his face twisted in annoyed anger and your own features throbbing with sick-of-his-shit disbelief. “Go to hell, Kei.”

“That was the plan. I was getting ready to head back home when you walked in.” He drops the ball in his hand, grabs his bag from the sideline, and beelines to the exit. His hand is on the door when he turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

It takes less time than usual for you to grab your own bag and fall in step behind him.

————————

Your relationship with Kei was many things. Strange, a little toxic, the longest relationship you’d ever been in, full of a deep love you didn’t quite understand.

You were recruited by your college’s volleyball team when you, as captain, took your high school volleyball team all the way to win nationals for the first and still only time in your school’s history. In every news outlet reporting on the triumph, the success was attributed to you, and you had offers from all over the nation swarm in and drown you in a decision-making process that still gives you anxiety sweats just thinking about it. At the end of the day, your goal was to make the national team, and in order to do that, you had to go to the best school with the best team that was offering you a spot, even though that college was hours away from your family and the life you had spent 18 long years building for yourself.

You packed your bags, said goodbye to your family, and moved across the country to go to school. It’s a huge, urban university, swimming with hundreds or thousands of faces you’ll never see more than once when passing on the street.

Before you even checked into your dorm, you found your way to the gym, a beautiful, state-of-the-art fancy schmancy thing. You walked in the doors, following the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls, and when you walked in to see the men’s team practicing on the court, it felt just like home. A beautiful, blond boy with a baby face and triple taped fingers was up to serve, and this was the first time you met Tsukkishima.

He nearly hit you with his spike.

“Watch it!” He yelled, shooing you out of the way with a dismissive wave, and thus, it was hate at first sight between the two of you.

Your university was looking to switch things up that year, however, following a string of embarrassing losses the season before, and they decided to name freshman for their captains on both the men’s and women’s team. You found yourself with a new captain’s jacket, and unfortunately, on the men’s side, so did Tsukkishima.

The goal of the switch up was to keep the teams on their toes, get fresh ideas that hadn’t been brainwashed by years of already being on the team, and keep new talent consistently striving for better. What ended up happening was just that, but at the same time, you and Tsukki were completely isolated from the rest of the team, being rejected as the favorites who unfairly were given spots way above their league. In hindsight, you understand why your teammates hated you, but in the moment, it hurt more than you imagined it would. All you had wanted was to help them get better, and it felt like no one understood that image except for Tsukki.

It didn’t help that you saw him nearly all the time. He was always at practice, he went to every media event both of you had to be at as captains, he lived in the same dorm as you and found the same study spots you thought you had claimed in secret for yourself, he even had the same major as you. He was in your face near constantly, and the unending ribbing and competition and forced, disgruntled companionship turned hate to tolerance, tolerance to like, and like to love.

He asked you out to the spring carnival your freshman year. It shocked you how easy the word yes slipped from your lips.

And from there you two started your two year long relationship. It was easy being with Kei. Even as overbearing and sometimes rude as he was, you two existed on the same wavelength. You had the same goals, the same interests, the same emotional bursts and flairs, and the same understanding as the other snapped. You never had to explain yourself to him; after every twist and turn, he was waiting for you with open arms when you were ready, and you did the same for him.

He was the one who was there when your father unexpectedly passed towards the end of your sophomore year of college. He was the one who stayed with you for weeks, never going back to his own place so you didn’t have to ever be alone. He was the one who made the trip back home with you, silently waiting and watching as you helped with preparation because he knew what you needed the most was just his presence and not his big mouth or overbearing nature. He was the one who took over both practices when you simply couldn’t get yourself out of bed and across campus to the gym. He was the one there ready to receive you and bring you back to the world when you picked yourself up and kept going.

He was also the one who was there when you lost everything your junior year. It was during the quarter final game at a nation wide tournament in the fall of the volleyball season. You fell hard and at exactly the wrong angle, snapped your leg in three places, and tore tendons from your knee to your toes. You were taken out in a stretcher, and the minute Kei heard, he left his own team’s quarter final game to ride with you to the hospital. He didn’t even think twice.

Your team lost without you. His team won without him. It’s unclear which truth hurt more.

You were given the worst news an athlete could hear. Weeks later, he stood next to you in the gym as you wobbled in your boot and in your words and officially resigned as captain and stepped away from the team. As your dream of making the national team died, so did your will, and you found yourself in the same blurry nothingness you were in when your father passed, but this time it felt like nothing could bring you out. Even as Tsukki tried and tried and tried to reach you, it was dark and painful and drowning where you were.

You broke up with him a week before your two year anniversary.

Since then, you’ve flunked most of your classes, nearly dropped out of school, get out of bed only to go to physical therapy, watched your ex-team have an incredibly underwhelming fall season without you for your senior year, and bounced from dick to dick of every boy you have ever met. Unfortunately, that’s pretty much only the men’s volleyball team. All of this has isolated Tsukki even more from his teammates, and now he’s alone, quiet except for the angry outburst, and hated more than ever.

He was there the first night you broke into the gym in the midst of a panic attack. You had been ready to find a way to the roof of the building when you walked in, sobbing and crazed, to see Tsukki alone with a volleyball in hand.

He talked you down. You went home with him.

That’s just how it’s been ever since.

————————

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” You mutter, following him up the stairs of his apartment building as he unlocks the door and holds it open for you. You instinctively find the elevator, pressing the specific number code that calls the elevator to the first floor that you have memorized like it’s nothing.

“You don’t usually talk to the stray cats you bring home.”

“You’re such a dick.”

He just hums in response, staring away from you as the elevator door opens and you both step inside. The ride up to his apartment is quiet and cold. He leans against the wall furthest from you, scrolling though an app noncommittally with an awkward hand in his pocket. You watch him the whole way up, and he doesn’t look at you once.

You follow him out of the elevator and into his apartment. You sit on his sofa with a comfortable ease on the side that you naturally think of as your side. You watch him as he glides through the kitchen, filling up two glasses with ice and sparkling water - your favorite flavor that you forced him to start liking while you were together. You accept the glass as he hands you one and sits on the other side of the couch, a huge gap between you. You wait as he pulls his phone out again, another app on his screen.

You’re always the one to make the first move.

Setting the drink down on the table, you close the gap between you two, hesitantly pressing your side against his and leaning into him. After a reluctant moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, which you take as an invitation. You take the glass and the phone from his hands, place it on the coffee table, and in one fell swoop, swing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

With a soft gentle caress, you brush your fingers over his cheeks and press your forehead to his. His eyes were always your favorite, the light honey brown tint sparkled in the moonlight, and it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He was the first one to lean up and in, tilting your head with his nose until his lips touched yours. You sit like this, softly kissing, pulling away for just small gasps and pants of air, for long enough that the automatic light in the kitchen shutters off.

Practiced and with ease, you run your hands back through his hair, pulling at the soft, fluffy strands as they thread through your fingers. He moans softly into your mouth, his own hands finding your waist and puling you closer to him. You can feel the hot rigid length in his lap, and as you slowly grind against him, he rewards you by pressing his fingertips into your lower back, his palms cupping your waist like they were made to sit there.

His eyelashes finally flutter closed, and you watch his face freeze with pleasure, his jaw locked open with your lips suctioned to his lower lip. Your own nails scratch against his scalp, and he shivers beneath your touch. It’s nearly painful the need that has built between you two when you finally slide off him and peel your pants off. He slides out of his own pants, and when he looks back at you to pull you back onto his lap, you can’t help the embarrassment at the intricate brace on your knee. You drop your hands to hide the appliance, but he bats your hand out of the way and pulls you back to straddle him again.

“You act like I’ve never seen you naked,” He whispers, his hand finding its way between your legs. His nimble, strong fingers find the absolute wet mess you’ve made, and both of your roll your eyes back in a moan as a single finger glides across your slick slit.

“I’m afraid-” You moan, cutting yourself off as he pushes the fabric of your underwear out of the way and circles your clit with his fingertip.

“Of?”

“Judgment.” You think for a second as a shiver runs down your back from the stimulation between your legs. “Rejection.”

He brings his other hand to your arm, gripping your flesh and brushing softly against your skin to bring goosebumps to the surface.

“Me? Judge?” He smiles up at you as he presses against your clit again. You moan lewdly, nearly falling forward at the shock of pleasure. “I’d never.”

You scoff out a laugh before reaching a hand to move his own underwear out of the way. His cock springs forward, bouncing softly against his stomach, as you bring your hand to between your legs to meet his. You interlock your fingers with his as they slide against you, back and forth, teasing your clit to your entrance, and you both moan loudly at the feeling. In the moonlight, you can see the glistening pre-cum on his tip, and it makes you nearly vibrate with need. Thankfully, Tsukki can read your body language like it’s his native tongue, and he guides your fingers to dip into you. Both of your hands push into you, and you groan as you settle onto your hands. Rocking your hips back and forth, you throw your head back with pleasure.

“Like a fucking angel,” He mutters, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbones and bite. Wet pleasure drips from you onto your palm, and when it feels like enough, you pull your fingers from yourself and suddenly grip Tsukki’s needy length. Your wetness and his pre-cum mix to make it slick and easy for your hand to stroke up and down. His body freezes in response, all of his muscles twitching with every pass of your hand.

His fingers curl deep inside you, and with each of your strokes, your rock your hips against his fingers. He’s deep enough inside you that he presses into that sweet spot, and his fingers find it with familiar ease every time you shift your hips.

“Kiss me,” You whisper into the night, and he shakes himself free enough for his lips to find yours. Your tongues press against each other, your hot breath billowing down each other’s necks, and each other’s hands milking pleasure out of your body. He tastes like knowing each other’s bodies like the back of your own hands.

You could’ve finished like this, in each other’s hands, if it wasn’t for the sudden shooting pain that radiates from your knee where you are kneeling in his lap. You flinch, taking the weight off it, and Tsukki supports you by grabbing your other hip with his free hand.

“Are you okay?”

“My leg,” You grunt out, moving your hands to grip the back of the couch as the pain fires even worse through your whole leg. He rubs at your hip, staring up at you to gauge your pain on your face, and when he sees you bite your lip and furrow your brow, he picks you up off his lap and deposits you on your back on the couch. Having your weight off your knee lightens the pain, and soon he has your brace off your leg and is massaging your joint with his hands.

He learned how to when you first hurt your leg, and he’s so comfortable that it feels second nature for him. It feels absolutely humiliating for you.

“Please stop,” You whisper, letting your leg fall, your foot hitting the floor, and you take his collar and pull his shirt over his head. Your nails gently drag against his chest, and he leans forward, catching himself by landing his hands on either side of your head.

“Does it hurt?”

You groan at the question, shimmying enough out of your shirt and bra that your chest was on display for Tsukki, but he maintains concerned eye contact with you.

“I just want you to fuck me like you did before,” You whisper, shifting your hips closer to his still protruding length.

He studies your face for a long time, but the desire in his chest must have won out, because he’s finally shirking off his boxers and settling himself between your thighs. He kisses you a few more times, soft and measured, before his tip presses against your entrance, and he sinks deep into you, bottoming out in your wet, hot, squishy insides.

You arch your back at the feeling of being so full of him, and his head drops to your neck, teeth grazing and sucking at the skin, and your arms wrap around his back to grip him as the feeling overwhelms you. Your stomach flops, and your brain swims. You drown in the smell of him, his cologne, his shampoo, his sweat and musk, and it smells, it feels, it overwhelms like home.

His thrusts into you feel deeper with each rock of his hips, and it sends shocks of nearly painful pleasure from your head to your toes. He’s groaning in your ear, and it’s a sweet song you miss like a lullaby you desperately want to remember when you’re lying alone in your own room at your own apartment. When his fingers find and tease your clit again, he moves in just the way you like that makes your toes curl, and that feels like the last straw.

Tears well in your eyes and drip down the sides of your face. With a sniffle, Tsukki finally brings his eyes back to your face, and when he sees your tears, he sighs softly with care. He shifts to his knees, pulling you just barely onto his lap, and he wraps his arms all the way around your body, his fingers gripping behind and around your shoulders so that your bodies are fully pressed against each other.

He shushes you softly in your ear. “I got you,” He whispers, squeezing his fingers into your skin, “I got you.”

His kindness makes the pain in your chest worst. “Please don’t stop,” You nearly sob, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. “Please keep going.”

Tsukki hesitates, but your begs and the needy rocking of your hips convinces him to slowly continue fucking into you. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“Then fuck it out of me, Kei,” You writhe against him, and after the internal struggle behind his eyes, he lays you on your back, grabs the back of your good leg, grips the arm of the couch behind you, and pounds his cock deep into you. It’s so sudden that it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. You choke on your tongue, nails digging into any flesh on Tsukki’s body that you can find. “Oh God, yes, fuck,” You groan into his ear.

“You feel so good,” He grunts back, placing his hand on your cheek and your thumb on your lips. With tears still falling down the side of your face, you suck his thumb into our mouth and tongue against the skin.

“S-so deep,” You hiccup out as he lays into you, his cock pumping in and out. Your hand snakes down between the two of you, and you rub against your clit. You clench against his cock, and both of you moan out sweetly at the feeling.

“I got you," He mumbles again, bringing his forehead to yours to keep eye contact. "Can you cum for me, baby?” He asks, and you shiver at his words, moving your fingers faster and harder to get to where you want. You nod, your hair sticking to your face in the tears. He groans, his hips starting to stutter. “Then cum, baby, cum.”

You pant and groan and whimper and suddenly you’re cumming around his cock, your body short-circuiting with the feeling of your orgasm. For these few moments, nothing in your body hurts. The physical pain, the emotional pain, it’s silenced in the pleasurable waves rolling through your body. You arch your back and press your body against Tsukki, his warm pants and moans stinging your skin with electricity.

Even though you wrap your good leg around Tsukki’s waist, like you would when you were together, he pulls out and finishes across your stomach and chest. He strokes himself through it, the sweat glistening on his forehead in the moonlight as his cum paints your skin. You close your eyes, letting the sticky wet feeling cover you.

It takes a few moments of panting before he falls back to a seated position on the couch. You can feel the aching pain return to your knee, and before you grab anything to wipe yourself clean, you reach down for your brace.

“Let me help you,” He sounds vaguely annoyed with the whole thing, but his fingers are still gentle as they pull the brace on and into position.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, the tears finally slowing. You rub your hands down your face, and then you search for something to clean yourself off with. Tsukki throws you his shirt, not even glancing your way.

“I hate it when you cry on me like that.”

“I thought you liked my misery.”

“Only when I’m causing it.” His smirk is half-hearted. He folds his leg underneath him, his other leg bending for him to place his chin on as he stared out the window.

You reach for your drink on the coffee table as you wipe away the leftover Tsukki on your body. You find your sweatshirt on the ground and throw it over your head, and now you two are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, just like before with just a few less clothes.

“Why do you do this for me if you don’t even like me?” You ask in a small voice, taking a sip of the drink in your hand, and he finally turns to look at you. His face shocked in disbelief.

“If I don’t even like you? Are you dense? I’m in love with you. I’m so madly in love with you that it hurts me every single day. You’re the one who broke up with me, so I should be asking you that question. Why do you come to me?”

Because you know he’ll understand you. You know you’ll be seen. You know he cares about you. You’d never actually answer that, though, because it’ll make you seem the callous bitch that he’s supposed to be.

“I don’t do it on purpose. You’re always in the gym.” The answer feels incomplete. “I like you, Kei.”

He watches your face as you refuse to meet his eyes. It takes a while before he stands, the hot anger radiating off of him, and he cleans up the space piece by piece. When he takes your empty glass to the sink he finally speaks.

“If we liked each other, we wouldn’t keep doing this.”

You watch him move from the kitchen to his bedroom door, but he hesitates before leaving you to the silence and darkness of his living room. He sighs, annoyed. “Are you staying the night.”

“I shouldn’t,” You spit back quickly, but you don’t get up to leave, and he doesn’t disappear to his bedroom. You two stare at each other for a long time, much too long. Finally he opens the door.

“Your pajamas are in the second drawer of my dresser,” then he squints his eyes at you, “but you should shower first. My sheets are clean.”

He disappears, leaving the door open behind him.

It takes you less time than usual to follow him in.

[edgeray]

Hi ray

Could write dragon! Arlecchino x hunter! Reader who hunts dragon because she was tasked to even tho she didn't wish to do so but little did the reader know that arlecchino is very strong

So when the reader was tasked she was warned by the villagers but what could the reader do but to only obey the orders when the reader met arlecchino trying to hunt her down she failed to do so

Dragon Hunter Mother

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Like always, if you want to request something from me again anon, give yourself a name/emoji ☺️ Also, I love this idea. I don't plan out my requests, plot just kinda comes as I write, so let's see what I do with this. I'm assuming you also want reader to be afab as well. Since you didn't say about arlecchino having a human form, I'm just not going to write it. Don't ask me how this turned to be over the limit I said these requests were gonna be. I got carried away with world building and plot. Sorry 😬 . Hopefully this was okay? Honestly, didn't know how I would make it romantic, but I guess I'll put it under romantic? I tried by best anon, feel free to request again if you want me to write it in a different way 🫶. Sorry for taking so long, but here it is!  Content warnings / info - author doesn't know how to write dragons, semi-graphic violence, if it wasn't obvious, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette make an appearance, 2.6k words 

Stemming from a long line of dragon hunters, it was no surprise that like the rest of your siblings, you would take up the mantle of also being a dragon hunter. Dragon hunting is a service to the kingdom exclusive to only a few noble families like yours, hence why its hunters are practically revered by the kingdom's citizens. Protecting the kingdom, receiving glory after every slaughter, earning a large chunk of the kingdom's money, it's no doubt that many aggrandize and covet to be in the same position. 

You've never wanted to be a dragon hunter. It's an arduous job in a kingdom known for its dragon outbreaks. The Majesty is prompt in requesting dragon hunters, sending them from one corner of the kingdom to the other unhesitatingly, and frequently underestimate the duration that these kill orders take. When the process of dragon hunting involves tracking the dragon, finding the dragon's sanctum, preparing to combat against a dragon, and finally, killing it, it takes at least a week if it's one of the older dragons. The Majesty has high expectations, and it's a struggle to keep up with them. Kill orders were often piled on top of one another, which means immediately after you complete one, it is off to finishing the next one.

It is a job of ruin. When was the last time you've gotten more than a few hours of sleep? The last time you've had a full meal? The last time you were able to have a relaxing bath? 

Killing dragons is not how you would like to waste away your life, slaving away under a duty that everyone idolizes. As you carry on your role, you begin to learn more and more about these flying reptiles; dragons are fascinating, intelligent creatures. It is a shame that many villagers are so terrified of them, dragons actively avoid humans; though for one reason or another, dragons occasionally seek the nearest human civilization, eating farm animals and destroying any shelter or barricade that stands in their way. Perhaps you're just foolish, but you believe that there is a real reason for this behavior, and that there could be a solution to this. 

Until then, you could do little more but heed each order, slaughtering dragon by dragon. Their dying cries plague your dreams every night, leaving you empty and restless. 

You arrive at a village, the emblem on your chest plate that indicates your occupation glints as you step out of the carriage. The village head greets you quickly, settling you down in front of a cup of tea and some snacks, before cutting straight to the details.

“This dragon… I'd be careful. I've heard of you, a genius among geniuses in terms of dragon hunting, but I warn you right now. This dragon is different. Smarter, more powerful than your typical one, I bet. Its fire… even among other dragons, isn't comparable. It can torch the whole village, and it got damn near close to. Cunning bastard as well, it can pinpoint where our sheeps are and it can evade our traps. It disappeared from our village a few decades… we assumed it died naturally, but then it returned again earlier this season.”

“When was the last time it attacked? Do you know what kind of dragon it is?”

“No. We’ve never seen a dragon like it before. I'm not sure if it follows under the kingdom's classifications. It's black and white with three pairs of wings! And its tail… sharp like, like…like a scythe, can slice houses in half! Its claws are just as dangerous too. Can breathe fire, of course.”

Three pairs of wings… that means this dragon is considerably old. Dragons gain pairs of wings after their first set through molting, which only occurs every fifty or sixty months following reaching maturity, meaning this dragon was at least a century old. You grimace. Older dragons are always harder to get rid of. Most of the dragons that you encounter only have one pair, on the rare occasion, two. This is the first time you've been assigned a three-paired dragon.

Its colorings are also strange; you've never heard of a black and white dragon specifically. The tail description, however, isn't very uncommon; it could be a signifier that this is an incredibly rare hybrid among dragon species. If it's as powerful as it's said, and if you consider its age, then perhaps they come from one of the Dynasty species… but a descendent of that species hasn't been seen in many years. If this is true, then of course it wouldn't follow under the kingdom's ordinary classifications of dragons. Still, a hybrid? Mating between different species almost never happens. This really was a special case. And its disappearance? You couldn't even fathom why.

“Do you know at least where it lives?”

The village head turns to his right, pointing in that direction. “If you continue that direction, you'll come across a forest. That's where it goes. We don't know where it lives, we've been too scared to try and find out ourselves.”

You sigh. Well, this wasn't much to work with. “Is there anywhere I can stay?” 

“Yes, yes. There's a room above the bar that's just for you. Free of charge, of course. The food as well. Just please… eradicate this beast.” 

“I'll do my best.” 

—

No matter how many forests you go to, you never become fonder of them. Traversing them was always annoying. Too much greenery to walk through, too many streams and rivers to cross, and just too many damn trees. This terrain is especially difficult to find traces of dragons in. It'd be better to make your own traces then scour through the forest to search for them, hence why you're at a stream, catching as much fish as you can with a net. Fish makes for good dragon bait, though you don't intend to use it to trap the dragon. You doubt any trap you could make in the little time you have could kill or harm the dragon, but it will lure the dragon to you.

You pause to take a break, glancing at the pile of fish you've collected. The smell is starting to assault your nostrils. Ugh. 

You hear a crunch behind you, and you turn. Your eyes widen and you pick up your sword, raising them towards the three dragons that surround you. Adrenaline pumps through you as you stand up, observing the creatures. 

All of them only have one-pair of wings, with similar features and size; they’re as large as bear cubs, if you subtract their tail length, and you realize that they're baby dragons, yet to reach maturity. They have, notably, distinct colorings, but they all share the same black and gray coloring. Perhaps they come from the same hatch? The one to your right has red, almost maroon, splotches over their scales. This one is wide eyed, but its features are relaxed as if playful and curious. The one in the middle seems to be the smallest, fearful as if it’s cowering with its dipped head and the tail wrapping around itself protectively; this one has almost a marigold accent to it. The one to the right is teal, and passive, like it doesn't see you in the slightest. 

Baby dragons are hardly as aggressive or destructive as their adult counterparts, but that doesn't mean they can't pose a danger. Still, you don't want to harm them, not when they haven't done anything that would warrant you to.

The red one approaches, deliberately, sniffing towards your direction. You brace your sword, and it trudges up to you, nostrils grazing against your armor before it nudges against your hand. It then walks past you, its focus deadset on the pile of fish behind you. The two other dragons follow in the red one's lead, and you sigh in relief, placing your sword back in its sheathes.

Baby dragons, three of them especially, are a rare sight, as they're often sheltered in their father's den, and they don't venture out until they've fully matured. This being because they're quite vulnerable despite the threat they hold once they've matured. Eliminating them is a part of your duty, however, you never feel right killing creatures that have just hatched. They couldn't be more than ten years old; they still had a few more decades before they could pose a danger. If they're out like this, it's likely they've been abandoned. Mother dragons often leave their young after childbirth, and the fathers are left to take care of them; it could be that the father died recently. 

Whatever the case, you think that they deserve to live a little longer. Plus, they're kind of cute… 

Although, the more you observe them, the more you feel you should prevent the fish supply you spent all day getting from declining. They seem less cute now. You groan as they eat until there's no more fish, and they turn back to you, croaking as if requesting more. 

What are you, their mother? Your eye twitches in vexation. 

You spend your evening fishing for baby dragons at the river. Un-fucking-believable. Weren't you wonderful at your job? 

You decide to leave the dragons at the river bank as you search for wood to make a campfire. To your slight annoyance and amusement, the young dragons trail behind you. You get random twigs and branches that scatter the forest floor. One of the dragons, the yellow one, picks up a branch in their mouth, before offering it to you. 

Damn it, why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You take the stick in your hand, hesitantly petting the top of its head. This is something you’ve never done before, but you wouldn't mind doing it again. It leans into your hand. You don't deserve this treatment, you hunt their kind. Oh, how you wish you could tell them what you'd have to do once they grow up. Why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You're holding back tears as you continue the petting action. 

Its other siblings, unbeknownst to your existential crisis, follow its behavior, and you've turned the baby dragons into your personal campfire wood carriers. You think dragon trainor fits you better than a dragon hunter at this point, but that profession doesn't grant an affordable life. 

Seating yourself on a tree stump, you build your campfire and light it. You use it to cook a fish over, while you try to fend off said trout from being eaten by the dragons. By the time it's done cooking, the little creatures are exhausated, curling against you as the three fall asleep against your legs and back. You don't want to admit it, but it's a comfortable weight against you. You didn't even know that dragons snore until now.

Peace at last, you think, finally able to eat your fish alone. 

Too soon, too soon. You hear it before you see it, the whipping of winds that you can only associate with the beating of dragon wings as it flies. The sound grows louder, meaning it's heading straight towards you. You stand up, unsheathing your sword and bracing yourself for an assault. Shit, shit, shit, you're not prepared to fight in this territory whatsoever. What was it attracted to? The campfire? The smell of your fish? Or perhaps… you glance at the still sleeping creatures. 

You don't have much time to ponder as the ground shakes when the beast lands in front of you, right on top of the river, its gargantuan form making you tremble. An earth shattering roar escapes its throat, nearly making you tumble back from the sheer force, and your ears ring painfully. 

You've never seen a larger dragon before. You count the pair of wings through squinted eyes. One, two, three. This is the dragon you've been hired to hunt? 

The hand holding your sword doesn't stop shaking, no matter how much you try to control your muscles. The adult dragon nears, and your heart rate pounds louder and louder with each footstep. Black and white colorings? Check. Sharp tail? Check. You know you have to fight it, but how could you possibly? It dwarfs you in every single way possible. 

It swipes its tail at you, and you duck as fast as possible, just barely missing being sliced in half like the trees behind you. Its tail retracts to lunge at you again, and you block the sharp end with your sword, though it just swats you away easily, throwing you across the bank of the river. You land on the gravel with a pained groan, and you scramble to get up, facing the dragon. 

Piercing red-crossed eyes gaze back at you, and you no longer feel like the hunter. Instead, you feel like the prey, and every fiber of your being is telling you to run. You wield your sword again resolutely. If you die, then you die, but you'll die knowing you tried. The dragon tilts its head back, preparing its fiery breath, and you ready your wrist shield. 

Suddenly, a familiar croak comes from behind the adult dragon, and you see the baby dragons rush into the adult dragon, headbutting its feet. The dragon snaps its head back into its normal position, gazing down at the small dragons at its feet. You're afraid that the larger dragon will crush them, but instead it growls. The young ones chirp back, communicating with it. 

You stand there, bewildered, the pieces coming together in your mind quickly. Is the black and white dragon their father? Are they trying to save you? The tension in your shoulders relaxes the slightest bit. The father dragon whips its head back to you, and you freeze, paralyzed under its predatory gaze. Too swiftly does its tail shoot towards you, but instead of impaling you as you prepared, it merely wraps around your midsection, lifting you effortlessly. You drop your sword out of pure shock from being in mid air, and it brings you face to face with the dragon. 

The dragon snarls, baring its teeth, and you think it's the end once you see its pearly whites. Instead, however, it sniffs you, before pausing, observing you more. You're holding your breath, wondering when you will meet your fate. It opens its mouth wide, displaying a row of teeth in its oral cavern. You squeeze your eyes shut but all you feel is something warm, wet, and slimey. A tongue drags across your face, and you cringe, immediately bringing your hands to wipe away the thick saliva. The tail around you loosens, and you fall on your back, grunting from the impact of hitting the floor. 

Okay. Well, you're alive at least, you think, once you get the liquid out of your eyes but it is unfortunately in your hair. If it hasn't killed you yet, then it must mean that it likes you? 

You open your eyes, and see that the dragon lays in front of you, its snout just a feet away from you. Each huff from the dragon blows your hair back with hot air, but you don't mind it. The smaller dragons prance by your side, chirping and croaking with a high-pitched tone. Bemused but just grateful that you've yet met your end, you pet their heads. By the growl from the father, they approve of your action, and your heart melts. You reach out to pet the snout of the larger dragon, and it closes its eyes, further nudging against you before a grumbly purr escapes its throat.

Seems like you've just been forcibly adopted by a family of dragons. You don't think you'll complain that much. 

[greenflowerceo]

Hey everyone! A few days are left before the very first prompt! (Sorry I couldn't get to announce it sooner, some things came up.) It starts on August 1, the official air date of the episode ever, Double Trouble! You can post entries and tag #GreenflowerWeek2024 ! (o´∀`o)

The prompts were chosen by what was most voted on, in order!

Listing it here anyway just in case:

August 1: Childhood/Present/Future

August 2: Hero/Villain

August 3: Stars/Flowers

August 4: Healing/Hurt

August 5: Punks/Nerds

August 6: Comicbooks/Candies

August 7: Free Day

You don't necessarily have to follow these prompts! If you do, it's completely up for interpretation how you want to use them! You can even use this prompt list after the week itself! Even better if it's in the tag for others to see! Don't stress and have fun! (ノ*°▽°*)

I do have a poll for anyone who wants to participate! It will be under the cut to keep this post shorter if reblogged!

I was thinking it'd be fun to turn this community week into some kind of public zine! My friends and I will format pieces into a scrapbook/photo album aesthetic with everyone's art being polaroids on the pages, of course with proper credit! (Written works can be added too if any are created!)

It will look something like this:

Lovely art belongs to my friends @twigs-sprigs and @marsipain! It's not the best draft but I hope you see the vision!

This is just an interest check so I just want to figure out if some people are down for the idea before giving out too many details that could muddle up the post ( ´ ▽ ` ) ! If this does go underway, you can choose not to display your art at all if that's what you'd prefer!

What do you all think?

Feel free to send an ask if you have any!

Thank you so much for reading this far and have a nice day :)

[mysaintkitten]

Loser, Baby | Neil lewis x fem!reader

prompt: neil swears he’s grown now and that it’ll take more than a shitty porno to get him hard, so you put him to the test (this based off of a suggestion i was sent !! thank you very much to whoever sent this !! and a quick reminder to feel free to send me prompt and character suggestions hehe)

WARNINGS: subby!neil kinda, unprotected sex (p in v), orgasm denial, i think that’s all ?? (NSFW, no minors)

word count: 2.2k

“the new shipment has come in!” jonathan calls out from the front of the store, lugging in a medium sized cardboard box filled with tapes. he places the box down onto the checkout counter before temporarily leaving to find a box cutter.

you, neil, and lucien gather around the box. you’re a bit confused, you were expecting a shipment sometime next week- what’s this one doing here so early? but after all, you hadn’t been working here for too long so maybe unexpected shipments were normal.

“do you know whats in here?” you ask to lucien and neil, who both claim they have no idea. jonathan returns with the box cutter and slices through the tape that’s sealing the box together, proceeding to then tug the box open.

you peek into the box, and you’re taken aback by what you see- you must be seeing this wrong. VHS tapes filled with graphic covers fill the box, it’s hard to focus on one singular film when all the titles include words like GAPING or FUCK or HORNY. you can’t help but laugh, this must be a gag gift. jonathan and lucien shoot glances at neil before laughing themselves.

you turn to look at neil, but he’s not laughing, he doesn’t even look happy anymore, he looks livid.

“we can’t sell this shit, get rid of it.” he chided, crossing his arms in front of his body.

“what? dude, we can’t just get rid of these perfectly good tapes. we have a mature only section, this could bring in a whole new wav-“ lucien laughs before neil cuts him off, “no. get rid of them. it’s my store and i don’t wanna sell this shit. i don’t care what you do with them, but we aren’t selling them.” neil spat before leaving to head to the storage room.

you had never seen him this agitated, over some simple pornos too. i mean, you guys did have an adult only section and normally neil had no issue with selling those tapes. why were these different?

“guess he still remembers ..” jonathan whispers, snickering quietly with lucien. huh?

“still remembers what?” you ask, wondering if this situation was more layered than you initially thought.

“back in our freshman year of college, we’d rent these tapes and do that freaky-straight-boy circlejerk shit .. whoever came first would lose.” lucien says, beginning to take the tapes out of the box. “neil would lose, almost every time.” jonathan laughs.

god, no wonder he wanted these tapes gone. getting a better look at the covers, they were disgusting. not in an actual disgust way, but just so crude. filthy. and knowing neil was coming to these made an unfamiliar feeling bubble within your stomach. it wasn’t a bad feeling, it was just foreign to you.

jonathan and lucien take a few of the tapes and head to the back office to start figuring out how much they could sell the them for, and you feel your curiosity get the best of you. out of the remaining tapes, you shuffle through until one sticks out to you.

HOT, WET MILF GETS FUCKED HARD

lord, it’s almost refreshing to see a title that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. you know exactly what you’re getting into. you grab the tape and slip it into your purse, a new idea stirring within you.

you finish the rest of your shift and the topic of the tapes has seemingly come to a close, no one else mentioning them for the rest of your shift.

as you and neil drive home together, you bring the topic back to the surface.

“what’s wrong with the tapes?” you ask, wanting to hear neil’s side of the story.

he sighs, “i don’t know, it’s just, maybe it’s cause i’m older and stuff like that doesn’t interest me much anymore. or maybe it’s because i’ve realized how demeaning the porn industry is to women ..” he rambles, saying everything except for a direct answer.

“neil, neil, it’s alright.” you chuckle softy, “if you still enjoy porn, that’s okay, i’m not expecting you to lose all interest in viewing sex simply because we’re in a relationship.” you reply, hoping it’ll direct him towards giving you a more honest answer,

he starts to grip the steering wheel slightly, “well, it’s like, you know, i do still like to .. see sex .. but that stuff doesn’t turn me on anymore. i’m grown now.” he almost gloats. you decide to let him have this for a few minutes, or at least until you guys arrive to your shared apartment.

once inside, you decide to bring your idea to light. you place your purse on the couch, “so neil, baby, i’m gonna be honest with you” you say, “jonathan and lucien told me why you feel this way about these tapes, the jerk off sessions, you coming quick ..” you add, he becomes flushed, beginning to stutter while trying to find the right words,

“and since you told me that you’re grown now and that you aren’t into any of that anymore, i wanna put you to the test.” you continue before pulling the tape out of your purse, watching as neil’s eyes dart between the cover of the tape and your face. all while he’s still speechless, you skip the vhs into your tape player.

you approach neil and gently squeeze his wrist, guiding him over to the couch to sit down beside you.

“now, we’re gonna watch this, and whoever gets turned on first loses. since you’re not into it anymore, this should be easy for you, right?” you instructed, enjoying how blatantly nervous neil was. he was full of shit and you both knew that, but his pride overrides all other aspects.

he gulps, “yeah. i’ll be fine. how will i know you aren’t getting wet, though?” he replies back, a bit snarky, almost as if he thought he had stumped you.

“hm, guess we’ll just have to do it like this then ..” you stated, grabbing his hands and slipping it into your pants and underneath your panties, his cold rough hands cupping your warm mound. before he can even process what you did, you slide your hand into his pants and boxers, cupping him the same. he gasps softly, “no, no, this isn’t fair! you can’t just have me hold your pussy and expect me to-” he stammers

“sh, it’s about to start.” you cooed, turning your gaze to the screen.

it’s retro porn, filmed by shitty cameras and filled with shitty acting. all seems to be going well for the first few moments before any of the actual fucking starts, neil’s hips shift uncomfortably beneath your hand, but he’s still soft.

the people on screen begin to kiss, and moan, and grope. before long, the lead milf is on some sort of counter, legs spread with her bare pussy showing. she’s fingering herself in front of her counterpart, gasping and writhing about how wet she is and how badly she needs to be fucked. and before she even has a cock inside of her, you feel neil begin to pulse beneath your hand. he knows he’s lost. you both know. you carefully look over at him, he’s blushing and his brows are furrowed, his lips twitching ever so slightly. poor thing. the tape wasn’t turning you on, but seeing how affected he was, was turning you on.

you don’t mention it and kept this knowledge to yourself, you continue to cup him, but you gradually apply more pressure along with moving your hand around gently, adding some friction to the mix.

he subconsciously begins to grind into your hand slightly, his own fingers getting a bit curious in your pants, toying around gently with your folds. once the woman on screen starts to get actually fucked, neil’s undeniably hard.

you look over at him, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth while smirking, “you lost, baby.” you purr, weakly pumping him.

“n-no! i told you it isn’t fair! i was thinking about you being in these positions and i just got ..” he rambles, “i don’t care, sweetheart. rules are rules.” you cut him off,

“im not a monster, though ..” you murmur before taking your hand out of his pants and sliding his out of yours, you then proceeding to lift your hips off the couch to slip your panties and pants off.

you scoot your back against the armrest and spread your legs for him, “you can have your fun, i can’t just get you worked up and then give you nothing, can i?” you assured, watching as that familiar little grin formed on his face. he slips his pants off and scrambles to get himself between your legs, wasting no time aligning himself with your pussy. spreading your wetness around with his tip.

he nearly whines, “i kept thinking about your pussy .. and how hard it would get me to see you like that .. all spread out and wet ..” he begins to push the head of his cock inside you, “jus’ not fair ..” he mutters,

“worry about that later” you advised, slipping a finger into your mouth before bring that finger down to your clit, rubbing side to side gently against the nub.

that seems to work on him and suddenly he isn’t focused on the fairness of the game anymore. his hands sneak around your thighs, gripping on the soft skin. while slowly thrusting in and out of you, he brings your legs up to his shoulders before picking up his pace. placing small, wet kisses on your inner knees while gripping your hips tightly.

you moan at the gesture, snaking your hands around neil’s torso to tug at his shirt, needing something to grip while he begins to pound into you.

his thrusts are deep and desperate, like he’s that same horny college student all over again, this time with access to actual pussy. knowing how desirous he was for you made you wetter, you could feel him thrusting in and out of you with more ease and you could even hear how slick you had become as he continued to fuck into you, subtle squelching noises begin to mix into the already erotic array of sounds coming from the two of you.

“lemme see your tits, baby ..” he whines, nudging the bottom half of your shirt with his trembling hands, you oblige and lift your shirt up, revealing your bra.

though he wanted to see more, it gets him going none the less. he whimpers as he reaches his hand out to grip your covered tit, kneading the pillowy flesh while slowing down his thrusts slightly

he hooks his finger around the corner of your bra where the cup and strap connects and he pulls it down, just enough to where he can see a good portion of your nipple, a small groan leaving his lips as you feel him twitch inside you. it’s almost cute, seeing a grown man become weak at the sight of a bare nipple. he picks up his pace again and watches the recoil of your barely exposed tit as he pumps into you roughly.

“so beautiful, can’t believe you’re all mine” he moans, you hum in approval, smirking at him through half-lidded eyes, “get to fuck this pretty pussy whenever i like .. you’re a dream.” he purrs, his head going slightly slack against your calf that’s still propped up on top of his shoulder.

“all yours ..” you moan in your most sultry tone, trying to push him closer to the edge, “you gonna come in my pussy, baby?”

he whimpers again, nodding eagerly, gripping your thighs tightly as he picks up his pace.

“gonna come, so close, god, fuck!” he groans, nows the time, you think to yourself.

“stop.” you say firmly, placing a hand flat against his chest, his thrusts slow down before coming to a complete halt.

“wha.. what’s wrong?” he questions, breathlessly, still incredibly close to coming directly inside you.

“pull out.” you reply in the same tone, he whines, but complies.

“what is it? did i do something wrong?” he probes, a worried expression lingering on his face

“no, you didn’t do anything wrong, love. but you lost. and you can’t come until i say so.” you reply, reaching to the floor to grab your discarded pants and panties, his worried expression stays on his face but it shifts to a different type of worried.

“what? no! you can’t! i’m so close ..” he mewls, “you can’t just leave me this hard! i’ll die!”

you chuckle at his exaggerations, “you’ll be fine, it’s not my fault it takes nothing more than a strong gust of wind to get you worked up.” you say softly, bringing your body upright to cup his face before pecking him on the nose.

“i’m going to take a shower ..” you add before standing to your feet, his eyes are wide and his mouth is gaping, it’s comical to you, “you’re gonna be all soapy and wet in the other room and i’m supposed to just sit here, painfully hard, and deal with it?” he whines. you think he may be even cry, him being so pathetic is almost sweet.

“mhm!” you reply, ruffling his hair before turning your body around, leaving him on the couch to go shower.

[dnpbeats]

laylo, email domains, and danandphiltour.com

okay so i've been trying to think of why dan and phil would even use the tour email in the first place (assuming they knew we'd see it), regardless of if the project is a tour or not! so i've been looking into how laylo works and if dan and phil were the ones who picked the email domain, if they knew we'd see it, etc.—the answer is yes, they did. they had to manually enter the domain they wanted the emails to be sent from, as well as the email that replies are received at. all of my information comes from this page on laylo's website, including the video :)

disclaimer: i'm not an expert on this stuff! i'm just making educated guesses based on the information available to me. if somebody has firsthand experience with this and i'm dead wrong, please feel free to let me know. also i'm not trying to sway people one way or another if they're announcing a tour or not—just presenting info on how laylo works and a possible reason for why they started with certain emails and then switched to others

for the sake of clarity: original emails were sent from "news@mail.danandphiltour.com" and the reply email was "dh@danielhowell.com." after a bit (a couple of hours maybe) the emails were switched. currently they get sent from "news@laylo.danandphilshop.com" and the reply email is "danandphilshopweb@gmail.com"

okay, so, long story short: when dan and phil (or whoever they had doing this for them/helping them) set up their laylo account, the email page looked like this:

they would have been prompted to send emails from whatever domain they chose, meaning when they entered danandphiltour.com, they did it fully knowing that people would see the emails sent from it. if it is a tour that they don't want spoiled, or if it isn't a tour at all, why would they even pick this domain to send emails from?

my best guess is that it's because danandphilshop.com is hosted through shopify, and danandphiltour.com is just a webpage hosted by cloudflare (as far as i can tell the dnptour website itself is just an html/css page). if you watch the video from laylo, they talk about how certain domain providers have special tricks you have to do when editing the DNS settings. the example given in the video is squarespace, and they have a few more domain providers listed where issues can come up. while shopify isn't one of the ones listed, it's a similar type of host to squarespace. it's not hard to imagine that there are similar (but not identical) tricks to changing DNS settings for shopify. for comparison, squarespace's page on DNS settings is pretty similar to shopify's. in a world where it's difficult to get the custom domain working with shopify, it would make sense if they tried to use other domains they own that weren't hooked up to shopify—namely, danandphiltour.com

(note that the method for editing DNS settings on cloudflare seems to be pretty similar to the other two listed above. the reason why i'm guessing that clouldflare might be more straightforward than shopify is because shopify is a whole platform with a lot going on in the backend (similar to squarespace), whereas cloudflare is just hosting the domain. but again this is just me guessing!)

so yeah, that's my guess as to why they chose to use dnptour as the email knowing people would see it! as to why they changed it, who knows. maybe for whatever reason they wanted to use dnpshop and just couldn't get it working in time, maybe it was because people were getting the wrong idea with the tour email, maybe it was because people were getting the right idea with the tour email! but i think the reason they used it in the first place is probably just that they were having trouble with the dnpshop domain and were like fuck it let's try dnptour and that went more smoothly :)

as to why the reply to email was originally dan's email and then it switched to the random-ass dnpshop gmail—no guesses on that, if anyone has any thoughts lmk 😂

[windser]

conflicted contrast (3/?)

pairing: mc x sylus (soulmate!au) wc: 1.6k+ rating: t

a/n: i have so many drafted ideas for this and few other sylus dynamics. but here is a direct continuation from this work! i doubt future additions will remain linear, ill probably just bounce around scenes but i love them a lot already!! honestly, feel free to send questions or specific requests about this dynamic to help me explore more

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

'sorry, I'm not into subs.'

it's probably not your shining moment, especially not with your supervisor less than half a foot away. there is a cough from your right, definitely from the officer trying to reign in his reaction.

yet, the leader of onichynus—your soulmate—finds humor in it all. his laugh, strong but low, isn't as shocking as deep-bellied amusement, but it may as well have been, given the guard's surprised reaction. apparently, outside of his request to see you, this man had given them nothing.

this man who—

"sylus."

you look up, your eyes having subtly mapped out his body in curiosity about where such a phrase could be etched. it obviously wasn't as prominent as yours.

he waits until your eyes meet. "my name," he says, as if reading your thoughts. a hint of a smile curls his lips. "as for my mark, perhaps that's a show for private times. but I assure you, i have been waiting for those words for a long, long time."

and you understand because even when you had given up, you too had played the waiting game, always wanting to at least know what the words 'you're beautiful' sounded like on fated lips.

but now...

well, there wasn't much left to this story. your soulmate was a criminal captured by the UNICORNS organization, and that was the end of it.

this moment was likely the most private and last opportunity the two of you would have together. and it wouldn't even be just the two of you, as the other two parties in the room were likely desperate to use this chance to get what they wanted from him.

you were just a proxy.

akey to his lips.

"sylus, are you indeed the leader of the illegal organization onichynus?"

despite the words leaving jenna's mouth, sylus's gaze never leaves yours.

"is that what you really want to know?"

the sigh that escapes your lips is heavy, carrying the weight of how difficult he plans to make this for everyone involved. shifting your weight to one foot, you meet him with an equally measured look.

"do you need my permission to speak to others?"

his answering grin tells you everything you need to know and opens the abyss to more inquiries you didn't realize you had an itch to know.

feeling prompted, you ask the same question.

"yes."

now it's confirmed what everyone already suspected, but sylus doesn't offer more than that, leaving jenna to ask more about the operations. unsurprisingly, he only acknowledges the questions when you mimic them.

"we deal with the movements of the N109 zone that you all are too pure to taint yourselves with."

it's likely not exactly what jenna had in mind, but it was something. so she asks another inquiry about specific attributes of such dynamics, to which sylus waits patiently for you to repeat. this goes on for the next few questions until you're both irritated by the redundancy and vagueness of it all.

nothing he has said has exposed itself as more than what the UNICORNS already had on file. at most, all they got out of this operation was a face.

Sure, they had the leader, but what was a figurehead when the heart of the organization was still running rampant within its own borders? at least it could be said that what he build was competent in his absence. though more could be said about the lack of rescue attempts.

"why are you modifying protocores?"

this was the first question of your own, and because his gaze had never left yours, sylus acknowledges it with a raised brow.

"because it makes them better." your frown deepens, and in noticing sylus yields more information. "If protocores were to be left in their current state, it would be similar to extracting a gem and leaving it unrefined. to truly want to extract its beauty, it must be cultivated." it's common sense really, goes unsaid but his tone holds the intent.

jenna doesn't propose the next question, so you take the opportunity to poke more.

"and what do you do with these advanced protocores?" it's not meant to be a compliment, but acknowledging that they were better than anything the UNICORNS had in inventory was a simple fact.

sylus doesn't answer immediately. he seems to be rolling his response around his tongue before deciding on the preferred taste.

"the wanderers are an issue to both sides, along with the other unsavory characters that associate themselves with the entire mess. we utilize our resources as we see fit."

with that, he confirms what had been speculated—that onichynus wasn't the only force making waves in the N109 zone and, by the sound of his distaste, they were not pleased with the fact.

"and what is the end goal of said resources?" jenna enunciates her question by stepping further into the room. it's an obvious authority play, something even sylus acknowledges with a barely-there smirk.

whatever is written on your face is easily read by him, so he humors her by responding directly for the first time, "whatever we want."

and that was the last of any relevant information either of you were able to get out of the man. he would always give you some sort of response, or at least his lips always moved with sound.

but questions like "how many members are in onichynus?" were met with answers like "i enjoy chocolate mousse cake but hate when they add cherries on top. what's your favorite dessert?" to the point where jenna decided to call it for the night, to sylus's humored dismay.

"we were just getting to know each other."

which was hilarious because, aside from knowing his apparently favorite confectionary sweet and his preferred exercise routine to blow off steam, he was every bit of the mystery of the man you'd walked in on.

it was a shame, really, because at the end of it all, you were finding your soulmate to be interesting, to say the least. a shame that intrigue came from the fact that he was a notorious criminal with more affiliations than UNICORNS could ever hope to pin on him.

you suppose you could at least admit to yourself that he was attractive. the pale, ashy hair complemented his eyes well. he was certainly built like a leader who liked to get things done on his own terms rather than delegate.

the biggest folly, really, that he just wasn't your type.

which is odd, because why would the stars align your lives with incompatible dynamics? If you needed a man to look at you for permission every time he spoke, you'd just get a dog.

perhaps it was best he was locked up, otherwise, you'd be the one forced to collar him.

"if I am to accept this will be my 'last meal,' could i at least get one request of my own?"

jenna pauses in her monologue of reading of rights, a long, drawn-out literature of things that are hearsay and probably won't even apply to a highly classified criminal such as him.

it's fair for her to be affronted by the inquiry, because not only has he not yet been offered his 'last meal,' it's the fact that it's you he's looking at.

he seems to wait for everyone to reach that pinnacle before he continues, "nothing untoward, i promise, as I am very much secured." as if the steel walls weren't enough, he makes a flimsy attempt to shake the handcuffs at his wrist.

reminded, your eyes flicker to the affronted restraints before raising to meet his. "what?"

his grin should have been the first warning.

"if you could at least humor the facade of privacy by coming closer."

it should be a threat. and definitely should not be considered.

but outside of the truth of him being a criminal, he is also, unfortunately, your soulmate. and while your spirits are not bound through mortality, you doubt he would do anything regardless.

it's Jenna who gives you the longest look before leaving the rest to you.

and from there, all that is left is a metaphoric cat and it's curiosity.

it doesn't take many steps for you to close the distance. as you approach, the man spreads his legs wider as if in accommodation, but you stop before accepting the obvious offer. it earns you the first proper smile rather than his muted smirk.

he leans forward instead, to close the distance himself, arms still held at a certain angle due to them being locked in a loop around the chair. from this position, the best he could do was tilt his chin up from a bowed head.

"are you disappointed?"

he's talking about himself. his attachment to you. the twine that intermingles your souls. and it's the first genuine set of words that you hear from his mouth besides his name.

"aside from the obvious, i'm not sure. if you'd chosen a different profession, perhaps you could have had the opportunity to prove me wrong."

which, down the road, or perhaps in a few moments, you would learn was both the wrong and right thing to say.

for in the next breath, his chest evened out, and behind his back, his pointer finger twitched once, and you all heard the clink of the cuff unlocking.

"well, with an opportunity like that, how can I resist, sweetie?"

[soulseobie]

young love - jongseob x reader

dedicated to all my seob pookies out there (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

you release a shaky breath, the sound of crashing waves filling your ears as a cold breeze washes against you. you lean against the hood of your car, the cold metal keeping you grounded as you scan for jongseob.

you had just crawled into bed when you received a rather cryptic text from seob, urging you to meet him at your normal beach spot. you couldn't possibly imagine what was so important that he would drag you out of the house at 2am, but here you were: waiting on him.

you hear the sound of sand crunching under the wheels of a skateboard, prompting you to look towards the source of the sound. your eyes meet and you notice the dark eye bags that have formed, probably from the lack of sleep. “i hope there was a good reason to call me out here, seob. i’m freezing my ass off!” you exclaim rubbing your hands up and down your arms to generate heat, to no avail.

his eyes soften as he reaches you, flashing a toothy grin. “you should’ve worn a jacket. here, take mine.” he mumbles before shedding the layer keeping him warm. “then you’ll be freezing your ass off, dingus.” you roll you eyes, still accepting the jacket he drapes over your shoulders. “so… why are we out here, seob? you made it seem pretty urgent.” you twiddle your thumbs, too nervous to meet his eyes.

he takes a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak, “i know we’ve been friends for a long time now.” he bites his lip nervously. “and this will probably ruin everything..” his hand reaches for yours, intertwining your fingers with his. “but i can’t hold it in anymore.” he takes another deep breath before continuing, “i like you, y/n. like… more than friends… i like like you..” he fumbles over his words, the nervousness obviously consuming him.

“i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but i couldn’t hold it in any longer.” he sighs, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. “that’s what you dragged me out of bed for?” you punch his arm, a look of surprise washing over his face. you free your hands before bringing them up to cup both sides of his face, “of course i like you too, dumb dumb. i thought i was making it too obvious.. and that you were the one that didn’t like me back.” you giggle, your thumbs caressing his cheeks slightly.

“well.. that’s a relief.” he giggles, “i think this is the part where we kiss.” you roll your eyes, pulling his face towards yours, your lips connecting softly. you feel his arms circle around your waist, pulling you closer to his midsection as your lips move in sync.

he may be dumb, but at least he’s yours.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ i’m not that proud of this one but its been sitting in my drafts for a few days i dont know how to make it better

thanks for reading ( ∩´ ᐜ `∩)♡ im gonna try and write regularly, send me ideas! („• ֊ •„)੭

[hazbinshusk]

18 or 29 with blitz please🤍

prompt #29: a kiss to the back of the hand.

“How d’ya know ya won’t like it if ya don’t try it?” Blitzø insists, scurrying along at your heels. You sigh; he’s been bugging you for the last forty – you glance at the watch on your wrist – seven minutes about trying out his latest kink-of-the-week, and while his eagerness is kind of endearing, he’s starting to get on your nerves. Just a little bit.

“Satan, Blitz,” you roll your eyes, blowing past the others and making your way into the conference room. While Blitzø had absolutely no qualms about having these conversations in front of your co-workers and his daughter, you like to at least pretend you have some semblance of privacy in the workplace. “Would you let it go? At least while we’re at work?”

“Noooope!” he shakes his head. “If I do that, you’re gonna distract me and I’ll never get an answer.

“Damn,” you deadpan, flouncing into your usual seat. “You’ve seen through my insidious plan.”

Blitzø sniggers, rounding the table and wrapping the end of his tail around the arm of the chair. He tugs it, turning the chair towards him.

“C’mon…” he taunts, leaning over you, caging you in with a hand on each arm of the chair. “You know you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

You scoff, pushing him away, and you try and fail not to smile when he laughs again. He wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly and his smile widens when you do laugh despite yourself. You lean forward in your seat, hooking your finger under his chin and drawing him into a kiss. He melts into it, his tail waving happily behind him. You let the kiss linger for a few wonderful moments, your tongue sliding against his, before sitting back again.

Blitzø blinks, the punch-drunk smile on his face shifting into something more devilish. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

You roll your eyes again, exhaling an exasperated breath. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Well…” he draws out the word with a snicker, raising an eyebrow snidely. “There’s something you can do about that, isn’t there?”

You scoff, shoving at his shoulder before he grabs your arm and pulls you into another kiss. He pushes up against you, forcing your knees apart with his hips, cupping your face in his hands. You nip at his bottom lip, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom, the hint of affection, in his voice. “Ass.”

“You fuckin’ love it.”

“Do I?”

He smirks, pinching your thigh. “And I bet your ass that you’d get all giddy and cum hungry over this, too, you little tease.”

“Oh, for fuck… I never said I wouldn’t like it.” you say with a sigh. “I just… you could romance me a little, y’know? Instead of just blurting out your horny-ass ideas in the middle of Hellbucks at eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Ohhhh…” he drags out, raising an eyebrow in a way that makes you pretty sure that he’s entirely missed your point. “Why didn’t you say so…”

“Blitz, what—?” you ask as he lowers himself onto one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. His eyebrow is still arched devilishly, and you feel yourself flush at the tableau he’s created between the two of you. You glance hastily over your shoulder towards the door. “Would you get up before someone walks—”

“Shh…” he hushes you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He lets it linger for a moment, his eyes holding yours. He smiles when you blush. “I’m doin’ a romance here, you sappy bitch.”

You choke on a laugh.

“Now,” he clears his throat, putting his free hand on his chest, the picture of a gentleman. “Will you, please, do me the honor…”

“Blitz.”

“Do me the honor,” he repeats pointedly. “Of wearing a fucking strap and fucking me in my ass?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[swanlakebaby]

— car sex vol. 2 | pjm

prompt: car sex w/ jimin (again)

⸝⸝ pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: bj, car sex, bf jimin, accidental creampies, soft kisses, smut

⸝⸝ word count: 1.7k

⸝⸝ note: i didn’t mean to be gone for literally so long wtf 😭 but im back now! i’m going to be working on the requests people sent me :) but feel free to send more if you have ideas! i wanted to get this done before answering requests since i’ve been gone for almost 2 weeks now.

i’m still getting adjusted to posting my writings so i still feel hesitant to be extremely nsfw on here but a lot of the requests are really good so in my next ffs i’ll start adding dialogue during smut scenes! i hope u enjoyed this one though 🙂

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

-

tiny raindrops tap against the window of the car as it rains outside. jimin hums in boredom , his fingers hitting against the driving wheel , following the rhythm of his hums. you sit in the passenger seat , staring out of the window. the city lights are blurred by the raindrops , but you continue to stare out anyway. your jeans felt sticky against your skin as they were soaked with rain water. just a few minutes prior did you have to hurry and run to the car in order to avoid getting soaked even more.

you and jimin were on the way to meet up with your other friends a few cities over. the road trip was a drag , and felt like it would go on forever. unexpectedly , jimin places a cold hand on your thigh , making you shiver. he notices and takes his hand off , looking at you for a split second and giving you a soft reassuring smile.

you weren’t sure that you’d want to attend this get together with your friends. but after much consideration and begging from jimin , you eventually gave in. he was always trying to get you out of your comfort zone , which was one of the things you liked about him. you truly believed that had you not met him , you’d probably be locked in your apartment and bored out of your mind.

the cold AC air hits against your soaked jeans , making you even more cold now. you shut off the AC and begin slipping off your pants. jimin looks over with a confused expression on his face. “that gas station stop got my pants wet. can you reach the bag from the seat behind you?” you ask him. he comes to a stop at a red light and turns his body around to attempt to reach the bag. he grabs its handles with his fingers , but the bag slips through and falls onto the ground. “goddamnit” he says , turning back around. “i’ll pull over.”

when the light turns green , he pulls over to a nearby street , putting the car in park. you get out of the car and walk to the other side where jimin sat , looking in the side mirrors and watching you. you open the door and bend over into the car , reaching for the bag. you quickly rummage through it for a pair of dry shorts , when you hear jimin get out of the car and close the door.

you feel a loud smack against your butt and giggle. “get back in the car , you’ll get wet!” you tell him , throwing the shorts into your seat. “hand me a towel then.” jimin says. “you got out of the car for that?” you shake your head , grabbing a towel and tossing it to him. he hops back into the car and you do the same. you also slide off your panties as they’re now soaked too and put on the shorts. “stop getting undressed in front of me.” jimin says , patting your thighs.

“are you twelve? seeing a girl naked scares you? afraid you’ll get cooties?” you say , throwing your head back in laughter. “that’s not why.” jimin says grinning. you roll your eyes , knowing what he’s implying. “how about you just focus on getting us to mirages house.” you point ahead at the road. “what’re you going to do?” jimin says suggestively. “me? im going to stare out of the window and listen to my podcast.” you wave your phone by the side of his face , reclining your seat.

“sometimes i wonder how someone can be as dorky as you.” he says. you furrow your eyebrow. “you shouldn’t be talking.” “i’m not dorky.” jimin protests. “right.” you scoff. he looks over at you. “what does that mean?”

you turn to face him , “you literally giggle like a school girl compliments you. plus , don’t you remember how red you’d get when i’d kiss you when we first got together? you’re a dork. i rest my case.” you turn on your phone. “i’m not , i’m just charming.”

you look at him , playfully disgusted. “even you know that’s a lie.” “what?!” he reaches over tickling you between your thighs. you feel ticklish and begin to laugh. “i take it back! you’re so annoying!” you grab onto his wrist. “thank you.” he grins mischievously , not taking his eyes off of the road.

—

about an hour later , you feel drowsy and wanted nothing more than to take a quick nap. as you’re almost asleep , you feel the car stop. jimin puts the car in park and reclines the seat. he sees you open your eyes. “i’m taking a quick eye break. we’ll be back on the road in like 15 minutes.” he says reassuringly.

you nod , closing your eyes once again. suddenly , he whispers your name. “hm?” you say tiredly. “i’ve been holding it all day.”

you laugh. “we’re parked , there’s trees all around us. you do the math.” “i don’t have to pee.” you quickly realize what he means and look down at his pants. the car is dark , but you can tell he’s hard. you almost want to laugh at the sudden shift of energy. you stretch rubbing your eyes and rubbing his thigh. “you’re unbelievable.” you say. “i’m not saying you have to do anything.” he says , becoming embarrassed.

you smile , noticing his embarrassment. you begin to rub his pants , watching as he tenses up. he slowly pulls down his pants and boxers , his hard cock springing up. you take off the shorts you had just put on and somehow climb into the drivers seat. an accidental honk goes off , causing you both to laugh quietly. you stuff your face into his neck , adjusting yourself into him. he holds onto your hips as you slowly slide down on his cock.

the rain seems more violent now , as cars swish past the car at a high speed , unaware of what you were doing in the car. you sit still for a moment , afraid of moving. you hold jimin close to you , kissing his neck softly. he wraps himself around you , slowly rubbing your back from underneath your shirt. you didn’t really have sexual inter course as often until you got with jimin , and your body was still getting used to it.

jimin slowly grinds you on him , taking things slow. you follow his motion , sitting up and resting your elbow on the driving wheel. jimin grazes your stomach with his hands. you feel uncomfortable , not liking the awkward position. jimin taps your sides , motioning for you to get up. you crawl back into the passenger seat , moving your hair out of your face. you get on the seat , propping yourself up with your knees before bending forward. you grab his cock and stuff it into your mouth.

he softly exhales and places his cold hand on the back of your neck. your head bobs up and down as you suck him off. this part of him feels warm compared to the rest of his body. jimin reaches over and rubs your butt softly , before giving it a harsh smack. you jolt forward at the sudden sting and he does it again and again until he’s satisfied. he grabs onto your neck and takes his cock out of your mouth.

you begin to pump him and his chest becomes heavier as his breathes become deeper and huskier. he slightly bends over , kissing the top of your head as you look at him lovingly. he grabs onto your wrist and reclines the seat even further , patting his thigh.

you crawl back into his lap once again. this time , he easily slides into you. he lifts his legs up , beginning to fuck you , holding onto your body. you take off your shirt and toss it aside , revealing your breasts. your nipples are hard and cold. jimin grabs onto your left breast , licking it in circular motions , not slowing down.

your eyes are half lidded , enjoying the feeling of being fucked. you grab onto the head rest behind jimin’s head as you use it to fuck your self onto jimin. he stops , letting you take control. he holds onto the bottoms of your thighs , moaning and cursing under his breath. you beg him to go faster , not wanting him to stop.

sticky sounds can be heard beneath you as your cream begins to coat his cock. he looks up at you , pleasure in his eyes. he holds onto you , stopping for a moment in fear of accidentally cumming inside of you. you smile , wrapping your arms around his neck and slowly grinding on him , rotating your hips. this motion makes him curse as he digs his nails into your hips. you grab his wrist , the pain of his nails in your skin gives you a burning feeling.

without warning , jimin lets out a load moan , his eyes fluttering open as his body goes still. you giggle , feeling as he fills you up. he curses , running his hand through his hair , out of breath. he grabs into your butt , lifting you up and sliding out of you carefully. you hold onto his neck , hovered above his lap , as you feel his cum slide out of you.

you get back into the passenger seat , naked and out of breath. jimin pulls up his pants and starts the car back up , ignoring the cum on the seat. his breath is heavy and his face shows a tired expression. you sit back on the seat , not moving to put your clothes back on. you slowly rub on your stomach , your legs closed tightly , looking out of the window at the darkness and rainy night.

written by swanlakebaby™

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol

Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.

Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3

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Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.

She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.

It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.

Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.

It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.

Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.

When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.

Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.

Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.

The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.

She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.

Then she got to work.

The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.

It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.

Things had been going smoothly.

For a time at least.

Until Phantom.

He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.

And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.

An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.

It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.

It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.

Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.

She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.

She had time.

Until she didn’t.

Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.

If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.

He was King Infinite.

He was an Ancient.

He was getting on her last damn nerves.

Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.

Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.

But no.

No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.

Phantom knew what they were there to do.

They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.

Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.

There could be no peace.

The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.

Amanda Waller was not.

The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.

By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.

The weapons labs.

The artifact.

The girl.

All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.

The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.

It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.

She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.

She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.

Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.

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Part Four