#Not all of my AU'S but some I've had on my mind lately:)

[moonypears-blog]

I went ahead and made a few boards for some of my Cedric and Sofia AU's.

Links to all of the Pinterest pics I used here:)

GhostAU: 1 2 4

EvilStepFamilyAU: 1 3

RockBandAU: 1 2 3 4

MaleficentAU: 1 2 3 4

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | t��ji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void��anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[areislol]

being transported into their world

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

��— warnings. nothing really, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! girls in the astral express are mentioned for a bit, i mentioned both dan heng and imbibitor lunae so don't mind that! mentions of self attempt/bodily harm for blade, boothill is ooc probably, spoilers of penacony quest, skipping herta space station (will be mentioned in other chapters though!), sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i've been thinking about a self-aware au but a honkai star rail version for a couple of weeks now after my reverse isekai'd genshin sagau series. also this may be a bit biased towards dang feng (imbibitor lunae) because uh i like him, maybe you can tell?

►— wordcount. 4.5k

part 2

for days they've felt uncomfortable, well, slightly. it only began to happen a couple of months ago when they felt as if something, no... someone was controlling their every movement and choice.

during their adventures, they felt an unsettling sensation creep upon them like a shadow in the night��a feeling of being watched, of a presence looming over their every move.

the presence was overwhelming, their body would stiffen, and they felt as if something like a heavy, invisible blanket was casted upon them.

at first, the passengers in the astral express dismissed it as mere paranoia, attributing it to the heightened tension of their journey or maybe the warping effects in the train. but as days passed and the sensation persisted, they couldn't shake off the unnerving feeling that they were not alone, that someone or something was observing their every action.

at times, they would catch fleeting whispers carried by the wind, faint voices that echoed in the corners of their minds. yet, despite their efforts, they could never make out the words, the words slipping through their grasp like elusive dreams.

as the feeling grew more pronounced, thoughts began to gnaw at their consciousness. who or what could possibly be speaking to them? why is it that every now and then they would feel a sudden boost and surge of power?

they knew deep down that the only being in the universe could make them feel that was,it could be no other than their creator.

the mere thought that their creator was dropping hints of their arrival was exciting. and only when the astral express crew noticed how each and every one of them felt the same exact things—looking around the moment they heard a voice, their body in sync as they tensed up... it was all too coincidental not to notice.

as they talked with one another and pieced the puzzle pieces together, using the information they found along the way travelling to each region, it all became clear.

it was a pivotal moment in their journey, the truth was revealed. in a flash of realization, they discovered that the presence they felt, the elusive voice they heard, was none other than their creator—the architect of their existence, the mastermind behind their trials and tribulations.

dan heng, himeko, welt, march and caelus had a hunch that it was their beloved creator, it couldn't be anyone else. everything added up, everything made sense. they acted like mad scientists, scurrying to their rooms and digging around every nook and cranny of their room, finding any evidence and papers that mentioned you, the creator.

as they all met up back on the train they carefully placed each and every newspaper and article about you. they had to make sure that it was really you. some of the articles that dan heng bought were from way back, thousands of years ago, he refused to tell anyone where he had gotten them from.

"in the vast expanse of the universe, where time flowed like a meandering river and galaxies danced in an eternal cosmic ballet, there existed a being unlike any other—a being known simply as a creator. born out of the primordial chaos, the creator was a solitary entity who traversed the endless void, seeking purpose in a universe devoid of meaning.

for millennia, the creator roamed the expanse, witnessing the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, and the ebb and flow of cosmic energies. yet, amidst the vastness of space and time, the creator found itself consumed by an overwhelming sense of ennui, a profound boredom that gnawed at their very essence.

then, the creator embarked on a journey of creation—a quest to fill the void with worlds of its own design, to sculpt realities from the raw clay of the cosmos. with a mere thought, the creator breathed life into barren planets, adorned them with oceans and mountains, and populated them with a myriad of creatures both strange and wondrous.

as creator delved deeper into their newfound passion, they discovered a love for the act of creation—a love that transcended time and space, a passion that ignited a fire within its soul. with each world it fashioned, each story it crafted, the creator found solace in the act of shaping reality, in the sheer joy of bringing something new into existence.

for six thousand years, the creator laboured tirelessly, weaving tapestries of worlds and galaxies, each one a testament to its boundless imagination and creative prowess. from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest empires, the creator poured their heart and soul into every facet of creation, infusing each world with a unique charm and character all its own.

yet, amidst the infinite expanse of its creations, the creator remained a solitary figure—a godlike being adrift in a sea of its own making, forever yearning for companionship in a universe devoid of peers. and so, the creator continued their eternal quest, weaving worlds out of boredom and growing a love and passion for creation that would endure for eternity. and we, this universe, was crafted by none other than the creator, the place we call home. it is said that only after six thousand will the creator return to us, to watch over us once more."

the article itself looked worn, it wasn't signed by anyone, and no one knew who wrote it, or how they got the information. but it seemed plausible. millenniums... it has been well over six thousand years, it was about time the creator descended.

they had to be prepared, they had to tell the rest of their friends and families, the world. as much as they would like to keep the information to themselves they knew that you deserved a much better, bigger and more beautiful welcome.

sampo, gepard and luka were more than stunned and nervous, to say the least. their creator... was finally returning back? upon hearing the news from caelus they were sceptical at first, deep down they really wanted to see you in your glory, to finally meet the creator, but at the same time, it was nerve-wracking.

what should they say? what should they do in preparation and celebration? what gifts and offers should they give to you? nothing would do. they were positive that anything they bought, even if it got them in debt, would suffice. you deserved more than a measly couple of dishes and the most delicate and fitting garnets.

it was embarrassing really, their hearts racing as they tried their best to think of what to bring to your feet. but one thing they all had in common was their loyalty to you. if it was their life you wanted then so be it.

sampo is sampo, he was sure that his creator's glory and attractiveness were over the top, he would be sure to compliment you as many times as his mouth could allow, but he was sure that your beauty would be intimidating. no matter your looks your presence was more than enough.

gepard is nervous. his mind is full of "what ifs" and "what should i.." not even his sister can calm him down. every morning and night when he closes his eyes he's anticipating the day his sister barges into his room, yelling that the creator had finally descended. although he isn't quite sure of what to offer you he knows that whenever you need him, whatever you call him for he will be there in less than a minute, by your side or feet if you prefer.

whatever you ask of him, whatever favour you need from, he will never say no.

luka on the other hand is absolutely pumped to meet you! he had heard stories of you when he was a child, and from the stories told by the adults they described you as a kind being, who soon fell in love with the art, beauty and joy of creating. well, their most favourite was creating worlds.

he was absolutely sure that you would be the most kindest, heavenly person he had ever met, what was there to worry about now? luka knew that if he ever laid eyes on you he would fall in love no doubt, he would do anything for you. maybe you would agree to watch his wrestling matches?

jing yuan, blade, imbibitor lunae, and luocha are the most excited of all, sure, everyone is elated to finally meet you with their very own eyes. but them? oh lord... they all believe to be your worshipper, having heard tales of you from their parents, this alone caused them to be awe and love-struck with you.

they were a firm believer in you, you did no wrong in their eyes. all your actions and words were justified. they followed your principles, they made sure to announce their presence every time they came to your altar and placed down the most expensive jewels, dishes and gifts. (they had a shrine of you at home don't worry)

jing yuan was the one of the firsts to get hints that you were finally returning, the divine foresight fu xuan always looked so weary and cautious, but as time grew she began to be more... happy and elated, yet everytime he questioned her she was tense up and smile like it was nothing. and only when he pried did she say that she saw things, saw a blurred face, and heard a voice. "don't be alarmed... i'm here to tell you that.."

he made sure that everyone who worked under him and every prominent person knew of this, he began to make preparations of your arrival, he cancelled all meetings and plans, only focusing on you and your arrival. everything had to be perfect. he had even forgotten about the wanted criminal blade. jing yuan booked the most fanciest restaurant for a month max, he wasn't sure when you were coming, of course, so a month it was.

jing yuan prepared every entertainment and paid the orchestra, he wanted everything to be perfect, even the most minuscule details.

blade's loyalty was and is only for you and only you. he may be cold and stone-hearted (we all know it's false) but if it's you... whatever you ask for he will do it no doubt. he refuses to take orders from a stranger even if it is his friend, but if it's you? say no more. blade knew you were a kind soul, you needed protection from the other so-called "enemies" (he proclaimed it!).

he swore that you saved his life, years ago when everything was tumbling down, when his feelings got the better of him, he tried doing the unthinkable, as he blacked out he suddenly "saw" something.. a beacon of light, it was magical and airy, he tried his best to grasp onto the light but obviously could not.

it floated further and further away, and he followed it, his eyes glued only on the beacon of light. as it stopped moving, so did he, he continued staring at the light as it shrank into a ball, it didn't speak, it didn't look anywhere, it stayed there. suddenly he woke up, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. what was that?

sweat clung to his forehead when jingliu found him, concerned she rushed over to him, he refused to say a single word. he was left perplexed. what was the ball of light? why did he feel so at ease? why did it only appear after he...

he would make it his mission to meet you before the rest do other than the astral express crew and become your bodyguard, even if you deny his offer he will stick with you no matter what. of course, he would respect your boundaries but he knew that you didn't have the heart to deny anyone, especially your creation.

imbibitor lunae absolutely adores you, even if he was reincarnated the memories still pass on. and the tales being told by the grown-ups were famous around his area and still is. from the earliest days of his existence, tales of the creator had woven themselves into the fabric of his consciousness, painting a portrait of a being of boundless kindness and infinite compassion.

as a child, imbibitor lunae had listened with rapt attention to stories passed down through generations, tales of the creator's benevolence and the miracles they wrought upon the world. and in the quiet moments of the night, he would gaze up at the starry expanse above, whispering prayers to the creator, his heart overflowing with admiration and reverence.

when news of the creator's imminent return after six thousand years reached his ears, his heart soared with unbridled joy. in no time he set about preparing for your arrival, pouring his heart and soul into crafting the perfect gifts to present to his divine benefactor.

drawing inspiration from the tales of old, he fashioned intricate trinkets and tokens of his affection, each one imbued with his unwavering devotion and love. amidst the swirling maelstrom of feelings, one thing remained constant: his unwavering love for the creator.

imbibitor swore that once he felt or sensed a sign that would be arriving he would immediately act, he would be the first to meet and lay his eyes on your divine figure. slap him as many times as you want if you found it rude, he would only thank you.

luocha, despite remaining calm and composed on the outside, internally, he was freaking OUT. luocha found himself grappling with a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions. on one hand, he felt a profound sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting the creator, the architect of his existence and the source of all that he held dear.

yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of inadequacy, the fear of not being able to live up to your expectations.

his mind raced with a flurry of possibilities. what gifts would you appreciate? what could he offer to express his gratitude and reverence for the being who had breathed life into his world? with each passing moment, the weight of the impending meeting pressed down upon him like a heavy burden, filling him with a sense of anxiety.

despite his inner turmoil, luocha maintained a facade of calm and composure, determined not to let his anxieties show. with a steely resolve, he set about meticulously planning and preparing for your arrival, carefully considering every detail in his quest to find the perfect gift.

he even resorted to asking the children about what gifts he should bring, and yes, they did laugh at him but helped him nonetheless.

from ornate trinkets to rare treasures, luocha spared no effort in his search for the ideal offering, pouring his heart and soul into each carefully chosen item. yet, even as he laboured tirelessly to ensure that everything was perfect, doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, although one thing was for sure, if you didn't like any of his gifts he wouldn't be upset rather, maybe all you wanted was his whole body and life, and he would not hesitant once to give it up for you.

they all couldn't wait to meet you.

aventurine, sunday, gallagher and boothill are freaking out. horribly. mainly aventurine.. once the news had reached them from the astral express that it was possible (about 98%) that you were the comet arriving in a week... oh boy were they NERVOUS. everything HAD to be perfect. they had everything to thank you for, during their life and death situation they were lucky enough to survive—thanks to you.

it was only natural to return the favour, you created them, their personality, their arms, legs, their body, you sculpted their face, you made them. you made the very world they live in right now, the world they call home... they were sure you were by their side, making them make the right decisions and the right thing. aventurine? oh, the amount of MONEY he will spend buying everything he thinks you'd like, the fanciest, most elegant and most expensive shoes, clothing and accessories. he would rent out an entire week or months of work at a restaurant if you'd like to dine alone or with a couple of people. he knows his luck is a part of him, he can only pray that he'll meet you first with his luck.

sunday... just the sound of your name makes him tear up. he could've sworn that one time you spoke to him, your other-worldly echoing voice speaking to him directly about the loss of his dear sister. and here he stood in his room, looking out the window, and in the far distant a light shimmering as it swiftly dived down. a shooting star. he knows that with everyone getting the news they're all aiming to be the first to meet you, and trust me, he does want to meet you FIRST. the second you land he'll be there right with you and guiding you to safety—penacony.

but first, he must pinpoint where exactly you'll land. and with his power and influence he will most definitely try his best to find you and be sure to hide you from everyone else... he needs you, desperately.

gallagher and boothill have exactly the same thoughts. to present themselves good to you and spend every minute and second with you. but with everyone gossiping and spreading rumours about your arrival it's hard to be unique. everyone wants to be with you, everyone wants your favour. but they could never worship you as much as them. they had dreamed of this moment, it seemed unreal to meet their own creator but nonetheless, they clung to their hope and boy did it not go to waste.

boothill basically pauses any mission he needs to complete, that can wait. you are eternal. he's practically on edge with the fact that at any moment the comet would crash through and there you'd be, dozing peacefully.. like an angel. he won't hesitate to cause some trouble or initiate some violence if it means that they don't get to see you first.

gallagher on the other hand tries to stay hidden and in the shadows. of course, he'd like to meet you face to face but with the feeling of an overwhelming and looming divine presence, it's all too much. and if that's too much then what would he feel when you stand right before him? he's like an overprotective dog, fiercely loyal and clingy. even if you can't spot him he'll be right there, lurking and watching.

dr. ratio and argenti are absolutely and 100% loyal and would do EVERYTHING in their power to meet you, even a glance would do, anything to feed their curiosity and desperate need to know the creator. so when they get wind that you were supposedly descending down... they freeze on the spot, their breath hitches as their eyes widen. could it really be?

dr. ratio was always a curious boy, and he has you to thank for giving him consciousness and the opportunities to venture out and earn knowledge and eventually spreading his knowledge to his students (preaching i guess you can say). he's a bit biased when it comes to talking about you to his friends or students, and speaking your name in a more positive light, not that anyone minds, if anything they agree!

although he isn't much of a gifter or "i'll spend my money on you" he's more of a "anything you want just tell me". if you told him to drop his precious books to come and tend to your needs he would do it in a heartbeat.

to argenti you are the standard and epitome of "beauty". the beauty he has been searching for his entire life. he intends to shower you with compliments and roses freshly picked by hand unless you're allergic or not a fan of flowers, fear not! compliments should do! be ready to be bombarded with such positivity, compliments and gifts from the knight of beauty.

anything you wish for he will try his utmost best to get it done perfectly and quickly. "your hair looks so pretty like this..." say no more, he will always style it and keep it exactly like that! "my feet feel so sore from all the walking" ?!!? why is his dear walking anyway!?!? don't worry, he'll massage it for you! "ugh all this work is making me tired" move aside, let him do the honours!!

It was a long ride home from work, you were currently in an almost empty bus, glancing over the top of your phone you read the time. 11 P.M.

Was it that late already? You knew this office job would be the death of you. You never wanted to work at a place like this, the cubicle life bored you and it was just so... depressing. That was the only way to describe it.

You decide to pass the time by playing your all-time favourite game: Honkai: Star Rail. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your face as you began to grind relics and exp for an upcoming character. It definitely worked in keeping you busy and awake as time passed by slowly.

All was well, everything was fine. You had everything planned in your head. Get home as soon as possible, take a nice warm and rejuvenating shower, get five hours of sleep, go back to work and repeat.

The more you thought about your daily routine the more you realised how depressing it was, but what could you do? That job was the only one that was hiring and had average pay and things like that are rare, especially when you decided to live in the city which was your first mistake.

You were barely getting by in the city, the crime rate increased, there were more breaks in, pickpocketing and murder. But despite all of that you decided to rent an apartment where it was less populated, the rent in the heart of the city was way too high.

Pushing all those thoughts and information aside you let out a defeated sigh, leaning your head on the window as you continued to tap away on your phone.

If only life went just a little bit easier on you.

Everything was fine. The silence was comfortable and the low, soft rumble of the engine kept you awake, until a loud deafening crash jolted the bus, sending people flying and falling onto the ground.

Letting out a scream you grabbed onto whatever you could to keep you steady—the head of the chair in front of you. Although it didn't do a good job of keeping you still you couldn't care less, because as you lifted your head, your eyes caught something massive charging straight at you, and before you could react, a blinding light engulfed you, followed by an eerie silence.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself tightly packed against something dark and rocky. Just great! Something had happened to the bus and knocked you out.

You looked around, it was pure blackness, like a void. Maybe this was what happened after death... Out of all things and especially the time too!

Feeling confused and scared you try to move your body to shift into a more comfortable position but due to the lack of space, you could barely even move an inch.

Suddenly, a crack was heard. And you froze.

Then another crack, and another, the darkness began to crack and splinter and not long after half of the egg-shaped looking ball broke in half as it fell to the side.

Shards of obsidian-like material fractured and scattered around. A large amount of dust, and shiny glitter-like specs flew everywhere, it was extremely dusty.

Unfortunately, you inhaled the smoke, coughing and sputtering, you waved their hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the particles as you squinted against the harsh light that slipped through the smoke.

As the dust settled and the steam dissipated, your surroundings gradually came into focus. You found yourself in front of... one, two, three, four, and... five.... wait.. what?

Right before you stood four male figures (with the other seemed to have a more feminine build), male figures that looked awfully familiar to you for some odd reason, just why was that?

You were confused and curious as you surveyed your surroundings, realizing that maybe this was death? You would've never guessed that "life" after death would look like this. It was very.... interesting.

The buildings that surrounded you were intricate and otherworldly. Dazzling celestial landscapes and luminescent structures piqued your interest as you slowly and carefully stepped out of what you assumed was a shell.

Its' architect and infrastructure reminded you of something, it seemed nostalgic—as if you've seen this exact building before. The more you observed and watched, your eyes tracing every precise curve and detail of the buildings your heart began to pick up its pace.

Your eyes searched every corner and inch, and finally, it landed back on the five figures you had spotted before and it wasn't until you caught sight of familiar faces that you were certain that you had to be hallucinating somehow after death.

There, standing in a circle, were figures that you could hardly believe were real: Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya. It was unmistakably them.

Their presence, their unmistakable aura of reverence, left you no doubt.

They watched you, their gazes filled with awe and admiration as if you were the embodiment of some long-awaited prophecy (and in this case, it was).

You were in disbelief. Disbelief that you had somehow been transported into the very game they were playing moments ago, but now they were tangible, real.

It was a long silence, it was both comfortable and uncomfortable with their longing gaze. You remained still as you checked around your surroundings once again before settling your eyes back on the group of people.

At your gaze they felt a shiver down their spine, and the hair on their skin stood up.

"W—Who are you guys?!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes to see if it was truly the characters from the game you adored.

Dan Heng's breath hitched at the sound of your booming voice, your voice... it was just like how they described what you would sound like in the carved stones and ancient scrolls.

The more he stared at you the more he wanted to come to you, to kneel down at your feet and profess how long he has been waiting for this moment.

With his eyes trained on your figure, he steps closer, Gepard notices and swiftly stops him from moving any further with his arm. Dan Heng looks to his side, confusion strewn on his face.

Not a single word was spoken yet with a stern gaze and the shake of a head, Dan Heng understood. Now was not the right time.

Minutes passed by in complete and utter silence, it unnerved you. Why were they so quiet? So watchful?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the silence was broken just with a couple words.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Your Gracefulness."

note: after 5 months WOW. i've been so busy with things i haven't had the time to really sit down and work. I'm so sorry everyone!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassup @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seed

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

for those i've taged: if you do not want to tagged for hsr drop a comment or message me.

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[vivwritesfics]

Hi! I love your writing, I've become an addict to your style. So, I would like to ask you, do you think Lando would freak out when he gets the soulmate connection? Like he wakes up and randomly hears a stranger's voice on his mind.

thank you so much love, i genuinely love soulmate au's so much, i think they're so fun - they didn't end up meeting in this one but it might be one of my favourites

The Second Part

Lando was a late bloomer. Everybody else heard their soulmate in their head when they were eighteen. Lando first heard her at twenty three.

He looks like he's got pubes on his chin.

"Did you say something?" He asked his Australian teammate, reaching up to self consciously stroke at the facial hair on his chin. Oscar shook his head and went back to whatever he was doing.

He's cute, though.

No, Oscar's voice definitely wasn't like that. Hello? Lando tried.

Holy shit.

Okay, the mysterious person had definitely heard him. Who are you? He asked, no longer concentrating on what he was doing.

A melodic laugh filled his head. I don't think I'm supposed to tell you that. All you need to know is that I'm your soulmate.

Soulmate, huh? Lando challenged. What does my soulmate find herself doing right now?

Nunya, she replied.

Lando's brows furrowed at the new word. What the hell is nunya?

Nunya business.

He rolled his eyes. Oh, so my soulmate is funny now, too, is she?

Yeah, she replied. I'm fucking hilarious.

Lando let out a laugh, one he hoped she could hear. He could get used to the voice in his head.

So, who is pube face? He asked as he walked into his driver room and pulled his fireproofs over his body.

Just some fucking guy, she answered as he zipped up his overalls. My friend dragged me to her house to watch the Formula One and get drunk.

Formula One? He didn't mean to sound so surprised at that. Are you a fan?

Of rich pricks driving around in circles?

Oh, not a fan, Lando replied, heart sinking slightly. Grabbing his helmet, he walked out into the garage. Listen, I've got to go. Speak to you in an hour and a half or something?

Sounds good, soulmate.

[bunnys-kisses]

bunny, dearest!! i’ve truly been craving some spicier brownies lately, perhaps with a side of coffee. oh, and a mocha, too, for max ☕️ xx

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of options to choose from! so please, check it out! i also accept prompts outside of f1! i've recently added some new prompts, so i hope you enjoy them! as for this anon, thank you for the lovely request! it's a lot of chocolate (yum)! i hope you enjoy!

and check out the master-list

brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha (breeding kink) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, ferrari driver!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy, dirty talk, rough sex, mean!max, doggy style

max had his fair share of rivals. from being the best along side lewis hamilton to the childhood rivalry he shared with charles leclerc. while he was able to brush those off, laughing about how it was all in good fun. part of the game was to be able to go wheel to wheel with another driver.

you, on the other hand. ferrari's little trail blazer. needed to be put in your goddamn places. especially when you made him dnf at the dutch grand prix.

"you're a bitch."

"and you apparently don't know how drive." you shoved max away from you. you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

"they should've never let you on the track. not when you're driving like a madwoman. they should revoke your license, you bitch."

this was the face of mad max. the stubborn, aggressive, almost insane driver that they let on the track at seventeen. but you held your ground as you spat back, "aw, is someone made that daddy was watching you spin out? is that why you're getting in my goddamn face you fucking prick!"

max could feel his lip twitch. he grabbed you by the front of your ferrari shirt and kissed you deeply. you were both in your hotel room, which max bulled himself into. now you were pressed against the back of the door with max's hands digging into the front of the shirt.

there was a moment of silence, the two of you looking at one another. two rivals till the bitter end. then it happened. you kissed one another with a hot fever.

when you pulled away, you saw the tension leave his shoulders. you said, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours." then ran your thumb across his soft lips, "is that all you needed? a kiss. what are you twelve?"

he exhaled deeply through his nose before he said, "no, i need to fuck you." then he took your shirt from the bottom and started to get you undressed.

sneakers kicked off by the door. your shirt over the couch, his jeans thrown in the direction of the window. your panties ended up over the nightstand and the rest of your clothes were in various places around the room.

max had you pinned under him, your ass up against his hard cock. the rush of today's race still sparked in your minds as he rubbed his achy cock against your wet cunt.

"you're a bad girl." he said.

"oh yeah? what does that make you, verstappen? god of the track? coming to give me salvation?" you groaned as he he pushed his achy cock inside of you. you exhaled deeply and arched your back.

he chuckled as he sank in all the way, his breath came through his teeth, "yeah. i am." he sounded almost cocky and it made a shiver run through you. he watched you hold onto the white sheets of the hotel bed. you felt good.

you have had sex before. this wasn't a new thing for either of you. he had multiple times buried his cock into your pussy and fucked you until the headboard put a dent in the wall. until the likes of your teammate (max's other rival) was banging on the shared wall to get you to shut up.

max's grip was possessive, there was little tenderness between you two as he rutted against you. he could feel the heat bloom in his face as he curved over you. making sure that his cock got into the softest parts of you. he was going to make sure that he kept you under him. and off the track, not when you felt this good against him.

your pretty cunt clung to him like a vice as he felt the heat flare up to his ears. he panted heavily like a dog as you whined in response like something more needy. his pace was erratic and the throb in his chest was noticeable. it all felt so hot and it burned both of you.

"you look good under me. where you belong. right at the bottom of the grid." he laughed, a little darkness to his tone. he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck as he continued to move. it all felt painfully hot for him.

you hissed between heavy thrusts and gripped onto the covers under you. you replied, "i want to see your downfall, verstappen."

he chuckled and kissed at you neck. he held onto you tightly and pressed more of his weight onto you. he said, "right, right. you want me to crash, you want me to retire. i've heard it all. but, i'm not retiring." he kissed the shell of your ear and said softly, "you are though."

"in your dreams." you arched your back a little bit. you panted heavily, "not until i get my world championship."

max snickered to himself as he continued to move against you. moving your hips alongside his cock. you gasped into the covers at the sensation and knew that your career was going to be swift and short. after all, who was going to take care of his baby?

he didn't want to leave his child with you alone with nannies. no, they had to be with their mother. which meant hanging up the helmet and picking up toys. the thought excited him as he continued to bully his cock up against your pussy.

he let himself indulge in your sweetness. it all felt so good.

"you're a sick fuck." you whined, "next time i'll make sure you dnf again. i'm going to snatch that trophy out of your hand."

he pressed himself up against, you almost bending you in half. his weight left you squirming pathetically under him. he chuckled, "right, right." he almost laughed at the thought. you with the world champion trophy.

the only thing you were going to be a champion at the end of this season was how good you could take max's cock. but that's alright, if you do a good job, he'll get you a little trophy.

you groaned into the covers soon after, the pleasure washed over you. and you almost hit your fist against the covers. you felt the heat in your brain as you groaned into the pillows. max only took it as a sign to fuck you harder. he watched your ass bounce as he fucked you with a renewed energy. when he came he grit his teeth and panted heavily against you.

he could feel his cock throb inside of you as he came. cum being spat out into the back of your womb. part of him prayed that this time it would take. but then again, you two had a whole rest of the season to make that happen.

you may not be getting your trophy at the end of the year. but max will let you kiss it after he holds it over his head. he had to be a good husband after all.

-

"you're insane if you think i'm wearing the red bull logo." you held your head high. your arms crossed over your chest.

max crowded into your space with one of his shirts in hand. he said lowly, "well the ferrari ones aren't fitting anymore are they?"

you placed a hand on the middle of his chest to get him to step back. you said, "i can always ask charles or lewis to give me a new size." you were currently almost seven months pregnant with your first child.

apparently the hate fuck after the dutch grand prix resulted in a little accident. in the heat of it all and the insanity of the week's race, you were basically without protection. and thus the next generation of racer was conceive.

even though you and max were about to get married, you refused to wear the gaudy colours of red bull. just because you retired early to have you son, didn't mean you were max's kept woman. you already had plans to work with mercedes after the birth of your son. anything but red bull.

he reached for your belly and gave it a rub, "just make my life easier."

you stepped towards him, now crowding his space. you took him by the jaw and made him look at you. you chuckled a little, it was amusing, "max, if you wanted a woman that wasn't going to bust your balls. then you shouldn't have gotten your rival pregnant."

even as his future wife, you still got under his skin. as he wrapped his strong arms around you, he said, "you're going to be the death of me."

you smiled at him, "good, i bet the insurance check will be lovely." <3

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much. 

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed. 

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life. 

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers. 

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box. 

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not. 

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route. 

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room. 

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms. 

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him. 

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes. 

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows. 

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head. 

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him. 

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby. 

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction. 

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered. 

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way. 

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded. 

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out. 

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction. 

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 . . . 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! — untold tales

first of all, thank you so so much for those who have read the deposed empress series! i can't thank you all enough—i'm blown away with all your kind words!! <3

and so, what is this? there are actually many little details i've had in mind for this au, but i can't write them all down bc there are just too many and writing up to 9-10k isn't usually my cup of tea :') this is more or less my little notes i held onto while writing the empress series, and i don't want to discard it so with this, i'll be clearing several plot holes you might've found throughout all hail the empress, the crown of diamonds and long live the empire :D

who is the infertile one, naoya or the empress?

truth is... none of them! :D both of them are perfectly healthy, and as of why the empress couldn't conceive while she was still with naoya... well, that has a lot to do with fate and god's blessing HAHA

official explanation *cough* — the empress feels oppressed in eastern empire, naoya isn't being kind to her as of late, and actually, she has a delicate body more than most... so despite being healthy and all, that kind of environment won't support any conception 💁🏻‍♀️

hanabi's children paternity

continuing from point above... naoya is the true biological father of hanabi's daughter and son :) this is my aim since the beginning -> how ironic and pitiful is it that he casts his own flesh and blood away? the main point of zen'in naoya's arc is to obtain his own heir, and yet once he does, he stupidly has them locked and about to be punished

has naoya ever loved the empress?

no. but why was he so kind with her in the beginning, you ask? that's bc he regarded her as an equal. she was the best pick out of highborn ladies in her time, famous for her talents, pretty too, and he deemed her worthy to become his wife. but later, naoya fell out of respect with her since she couldn't produce an heir

but on the contrary, the empress was in love with him, at least during her youth

what is the argument between gojo and empress in part 2 about?

gojo has long wanted to decimate naoya and his empire (no particular justification for this, that's just what emperors do :') let's leave it at that), but it's true that seeing how the empress is wronged while she was married to naoya fuels the fire. gojo may be biased bc he is so in love with the empress, but in his eyes, it's so unacceptable

the empress is suspicious that gojo is only using her after the ending scene of part 1. and she overhears geto's words (“No, Satoru. You are just using her. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”), and so she is even more convinced that he's just planning to use her so... yeah, an argument ensues :')

in gojo's pov, empress saving megumi and hanabi means she is doing it out of (lingering?) love for naoya, as he knows that she used to be in love with him. in empress' pov, gojo is finding excuse to wage a war, and with the cursed necklace incident, he has found a right justification to do so

why did naoya send the necklace as a gift to the empress after everything? what happens to it afterwards? does he know what hanabi did?

you know, actually... if it isn't obvious by now, everything naoya does in this series is unreliable :') to put it simply, he's a bit mad ever since empress ditches him for gojo—his pride is so wounded and he's becoming erratic day by day

while looking at the his coronation portrait, he might feel some kind of twisted sense of regret-like emotions (i said "-like" bc he is not right in the head), and then he remembers that he still has that necklace with him, so he might as well get rid of it. it's totally not out of love at all! :D

after hanabi tampered with the necklace and imbued it with a curse from god knows where... gojo of course has it destroyed 💁🏻‍♀️ and naoya doesn't know any of this bc this matter is not made public by the western empire (after the empress' involvement in concealing the evidence), and neither megumi or hanabi want to risk naoya's wrath so they don't bring it to his attention. more like, they don't know how he'll react, and if he throws a fit then it'll be a headache so yeah he must be kept in the dark

still, megumi resents hanabi for what she did, that's why later, he has a hand in banishing hanabi to duke kamo's household :)))

hanabi's doomed fate explained

hanabi was a former maid to the kamo household and they're famous for their cruelty. as of what they've done to her... well, you can imagine all sorts of cruel scenarios and that will be it :) things get better when choso takes over, but still... hanabi still has nightmares from it

so what happened to her? basically, gojo's line in part 3 here: "Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."

working together with geto, megumi and choso, gojo orchestrated the whole dumpster fire to make naoya and hanabi fall from grace. first, he digs hanabi's background, and after knowing it, he makes a deal with choso—zen'ins have usurped the throne from the kamos and a new plaything is always welcome so he easily agrees, and then megumi... he complies bc he knows everything is in shambles in eastern empire anyway and he hates hanabi too for cursing the empress, so he helps in spreading the false information about hanabi's children not being of naoya's blood and slips choso's blood in the paternity testing naoya conducts... and yeah, they all have him fooled and hanabi is kicked out that instant

and comes the main event: naoya's stroke is also choso pulling the strings :D so in other words, this is also their plan to dethrone him altogether and install megumi to the throne. the "kindness" megumi shows hanabi is also a part of their plan, as he sends her right back to choso

in conclusion, emperor gojo is actually a cruel, cruel person :) he designs this elaborate plan to take down those who dared to touch his empress...

final note

there are many inspirations for this series if you look closer -> the manhwa remarried empress (part 1-2), queen of tears & queen charlotte: bridgerton story (part 3). i tried my best to add my own twist in all three parts, but again, writing is a form of art and we're leaning towards things that are familiar to us to write :D after all, it's just fanfics... we're free to put them in any situation ;)

it has been such a fun ride to write this series :') again, thank you so much for giving my stories a chance🩵 i never expected for so many to interact, and you all truly make my day!! if i'm going to be honest, writing here isn't always fun... but seeing your asks, comments and tags really is the reason why i'm not giving up writing here :'D and i'm saying this not for me but also on behalf of all writers out there—whenever you drop by with a long analysis/tags/comments for our fics, we're so so beyond happy to read it!!! :) so thank you, and please continue to do so if you can <3

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Epilogue: Stargaze

✑ Summary: The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. But tonight, under the blanket of the twinkling sky, your love proves stronger as neither of you is willing to give up hope just yet —and maybe you won't have to.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au, slice of life

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), swearing, mentions of past apprehensions of fatherhood, mentions of difficult past, pregnancy journey, and some sexual/suggestive content

Sexual/suggestive warnings: swearing, kissing (making out, neck kisses, etc), hair tugging/playing, sentimental tears, mention of pregnant s*x/c*ming

Now Playing: Heaven by Bryan Adams

a/n: About a year ago I started a series that I'm sure a decent amount of my readers are familiar with. It's one that will always stay close to my heart because of its very nature....it's simply touching for me. Anyway, I've owed everyone, including myself, an epilogue for quite some time. This can be read as a stand-alone, but I do recommend reading the series if you wish to have more context, etc.

Hope you enjoy 🥰

Series Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tonight, under the vast canopy of stars in the late summer night sky, you feel a peacefulness in your heart as you lie beside your husband of three years on a soft blanket spread out in the backyard.

The air is cool with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the stars shimmer like diamonds above you. You and Jungkook have always loved stargazing together—it's a cherished ritual that brings you closer, grounding you in the beauty and wonder of the universe.

"Look," Jungkook murmurs, pointing towards a particularly bright star. "That one's so bright tonight."

You follow his gaze, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "This is my favorite place to be with you, you know?”

“Mine too,” you reply, snuggling closer to him.

The gentle rustling of leaves fills the silence for a few moments before Jungkook speaks again.

“I’ve been thinking…about us, about our future," he starts.

Your heart skips a beat, sensing the weight of his words. "What about our future?"

"I want us to keep trying to build our family," he says earnestly, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. "I know it hasn't been easy, and we expected to be pregnant months ago, but I believe our time will come."

The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. It's been filled with tender moments and heartaches, each negative test a painful reminder of the journey.

Countless visits to Dr. Kim for advice and reassurances couldn’t fill the void left by each disappointment. Yet, through it all, neither of you could let the anticipation and hope that have woven themselves into the fabric of your days and nights diminish.

"I believe it too, Kook," you reply, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze his hand.

He turns to face you fully, his gaze searching yours. "I've wrestled with the idea of becoming a father in the past because of my own doubts and fears. But now, I can't wait to be a father, with you by my side. Even if more challenges await us, I want to share this journey with you, every step of the way."

A surge of emotion wells up inside you as memories of the past two years together start flashing through your mind. It was after an unexpectedly sweet encounter with a toddler at the park while painting, that you first brought up the idea of having children to Jungkook. He was initially apprehensive, recalling that neither of you had considered children when you first married for various reasons. But he loved you deeply, so he promised to be open to the idea.

Together, you agreed that rushing into such a significant decision as having a baby wouldn't be wise, considering it was an entirely new venture for both of you. However, over time, through therapy sessions, ongoing exposure to children, and heartfelt discussions, you both gradually felt more prepared and ready to finally welcome this new chapter in your life.

"Jungkook, I…," you pause, knowing that what you're about to share is something you've been bottling up all day, a dream waiting for the perfect moment to be revealed. "I have a feeling things might be different this time."

His eyes widen in surprise, a spark of curiosity igniting within them. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with mixed emotions. "I mean... today, I took a test. It was positive."

Jungkook's breath catches in his throat, excitement dancing in his eyes before quickly filling with tears of joy. "You mean...?"

You nod, a couple of tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, Kook. We're going to have a baby."

In an instant, Jungkook pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His laughter mingles with your tears as you cling to each other, overwhelmed with happiness.

"I can't believe it," he whispers, pressing a kiss on top of your head. "We're going to be parents."

You nod against his shoulder, the news feeling just as surreal to you as it does to him. "Together, Kook. We're going to be parents."

As you lie under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other's arms and the promise of a new life growing within you, you know that this night will forever be etched in your hearts.

"I love you, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Jungkook says softly, placing a gentle hand on your stomach.

"I love you too." Cradling his face in your hands, you lean in and press your lips gently against his.

With the first month of your pregnancy underway, joy overwhelms you as you and Jungkook share the news with close family and friends.

"I can't believe it! You're finally joining the parent club," Yoongi teases, a mischievous glint in his eye as he recalls his own experience with twin girls. "Get ready for sleepless nights and endless diaper changes."

Taehyung chimes in eagerly, "And I demand to be their godfather! I'll teach your child everything about art and creativity."

"Hey, I think I can handle that part pretty well myself," you playfully interject, gesturing to your personal artwork hanging on the walls.

Taehyung grins, "I suppose you have a point there. But seriously, if you ever need help with anything, you know I'm here."

Jungkook chuckles warmly and pats Taehyung on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Your kid will have the best of both worlds Jungkook—__'s artistic flair and your… well, whatever you bring to the table."

"Muscles," you say with a cheeky smirk. "He'll bring the muscles."

The second month arrives fast, but it's not as cheery as the first. Morning sickness kicks in full force, testing your patience and resilience.

Jungkook becomes your pillar of support, always ready with ginger tea and comforting words.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he reassures you, rubbing your back gently as you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I feel terrible," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just wish our baby was already here."

"We'll get through this together," Jungkook says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. "And hey, at least we're getting really good at making ginger tea!"

You manage a weak laugh, grateful to have him by your side.

By the third month, your bump begins to show. Despite your mixed feelings about your changing body, you can't help but feel wonder and amazement at the miracle growing inside you.

"Look at this," Jungkook whispers, gently placing his hand on your belly. "Our little one is growing so fast."

You glance down at his hand, then back up at him with a soft smile. "I know. It's incredible, isn't it? Sometimes it feels like just yesterday we found out. I can't wait to meet them."

Jungkook nods, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Me too. I want to teach them everything I know. I wonder what they'll be like."

You chuckle softly, imagining the possibilities. "Who knows? Maybe they'll have your sense of adventure and my love for creativity. Or maybe they'll be completely different from both of us, which will be okay too."

He grins, pressing a gentle kiss on your belly. "We'll love them no matter what, no doubt about it."

It's the fourth month when you feel your energy returning and renewed optimism as morning sickness subsides. You and Jungkook take walks in the park, hand-in-hand, discussing baby names and nursery decor.

"I think we should go with a woodland theme for the nursery," Jungkook suggests, swinging your intertwined hands as the crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet.

"Sounds perfect," you agree, smiling at his enthusiasm. "We could have little animal decorations and maybe even a mural of a forest. Taehyung hasn't been subtle about wanting to paint the room for us."

"Definitely," Jungkook replies, his eyes bright with excitement. "He'd probably add his own artistic touch too, knowing him."

You chuckle softly, imagining Taehyung's vibrant and whimsical style adorning the nursery walls. "That would be amazing. Our baby would have the most creative room ever."

As you walk, you discuss more details—what kind of crib to get, whether to use soft pastels or earthy tones, and even what kind of mobile would best fit the woodland theme. Jungkook talks about how he wants to try building some of the furniture himself, adding a personal touch to the nursery.

"I want our baby to know how much love went into creating their space one day," he says, squeezing your hand gently.

"I can't wait to see it all come together," you sigh.

Jungkook stops walking and pulls you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "I can't wait either," he whispers.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling back slightly from his embrace to meet his deep coffee-black eyes. “What would you say if we went home and did something we haven’t been able to do for a little while?”

You then wrap your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

"You mean…sex?” Your husband's eyes widen as he begins to grasp the extent of your suggestion. “But would that be…”

“It’s safe,” you confirm, “Dr. Kim says it’s completely okay and lots of couples do it. No need to worry.”

Jungkook's prior concern washes away, replaced by shock the moment he hears the words drop from your lips. “You asked Seokjin about this?! Our friend?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion and mild disbelief.

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle at how cute he looks. “He’s been our doctor for years, Kook. Why wouldn’t I ask him?”

“I know, but it’s…Seokjin.”

“Honey, come on,” you say, attempting to reason with the man. “Are you still mad at him for questioning your sexual ability all those months ago? When we asked his advice on how to increase our chances of conception? You know he didn’t mean it to be anything hurtful.”

“Maybe I’m still irritated about it,” Jungkook pouts. “I guess I’m being petty though. I know he was trying to help.”

“Well, in any case, he was wrong, wasn’t he?” You subtly gesture to your stomach. “Seeing as I’m pregnant with our baby.”

Jungkook's mood seems to lift again as his hands travel down to grip your waist. A playful grin spreads across his face. “I think we should go home now and see if we can prove him even more wrong. What would you say about us having twins?”

You laugh, easily reading between the lines. “Have you been talking to Kim Taehyung? It doesn’t work like that and you know it. You can’t just make love to me while I’m pregnant and expect two babies instead of one. B+ for effort though.”

“Damn, B+? You’re a tough grader, baby. Good thing I might know a thing or two of what you like to get that reaccessed.” He then kisses you before granting you a chance to respond, deepening it within a second.

You feel a tightening build in your core as his tongue smoothly invites itself to slip between the seam of your lips. And despite literally being in the middle of a park, you moan immediately, tugging at a few strands of his hair. A low groan elicits from him as you do this.

Thank god most of the people have left for dinner by now.

“No,” you suddenly mumble, breaking your heated kiss. “This isn’t how we like to do it. We need to go home. Please, let's go home, Kook.”

Jungkook merely smiles in response, takes your hand in his, and quickly leads you to the car where he drives you both home.

That night, as the brisk autumn wind howls outside, your husband doesn't hesitate to take the lead as he makes love to you with all of his being. And by the end of it all, when you both come, you can visibly see the dried tears on both of each other's cheeks.

"Looks like we're starting to turn into two cry babies," you break the silence first.

"I think so too," Jungkook replies, a tad bit breathless. "Is that okay?"

"Of course. As long as you're okay with it too."

"Can't think of a single reason for it not to be." Your husband buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your neck lightly. "I love you, __, so much if you couldn't already tell." He then looks at you and smiles, his eyes brimming with happiness.

"I love you too," you reply simply. "I always will."

In early December, during your fifth month of pregnancy, emotions run high as you start feeling the baby's first kicks. It's a touching reminder of the life growing within you, bringing tears of joy and occasional bouts of anxiety about the future.

"Feel that?" you ask Jungkook, taking his hand and placing it on your belly where the baby kicks again.

"Wow," he breathes, feeling the tiny nudges beneath his hand. "They're already making their presence known."

You nod, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. "Seems like they're eager to join the party."

Jungkook grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess they heard about your cooking and couldn't wait. They've got good taste already."

You laugh softly, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "Let's hope they also inherit my better sense of direction."

He raises an eyebrow teasingly. "Hey, I've got great instincts."

You shake your head with mock seriousness. "You once got lost in our own neighborhood, Kook."

Jungkook feigns offense, but his smile widens. "Alright, fair point. But I promise I'll navigate parenthood better."

"It's a little bit scary, isn't it?" you say softly.

"It is," Jungkook admits, his grip on your hand tightening reassuringly. "But we'll figure it out together, like we always do."

In the sixth month, you and Jungkook find yourselves nervously seated in the ultrasound room, with you on the medical bed and Jungkook in a chair beside you. The doctor moves the wand over your belly. After a few moments of silence, the screen lights up with images of your baby. Both of you gasp in awe as you see your baby's tiny fingers and toes, their heart beating steadily.

"Everything looks perfectly healthy," the doctor announces warmly, pointing out different features and measurements. "Would you like to know the gender?"

You glance over at your husband, whose eyes are fixed intently on the screen. "What do you think?" you ask. "Do we want to know?"

Jungkook's gaze shifts from the screen to you, reflecting both eagerness and nervousness in his eyes. "I think… yes," he says finally, his voice filled with anticipation.

The doctor smiles warmly and adjusts the ultrasound wand, focusing on a specific area. "Well, it looks like you're having a…"

The suspense lingers in the air as the doctor takes a moment before revealing the gender of your baby. When they do, you and Jungkook can't help but grin at each other.

It’s a girl.

The reality of impending parenthood settles in deeper during the seventh month as you and Jungkook diligently attend prenatal classes together. The sessions are eye-opening, filled with valuable information, but they also serve as stark reminders of the challenges awaiting you both. There are moments of frustration and tears as you grapple with sleepless nights and discomfort.

"I'm so tired," you confess one evening, sinking into Jungkook's arms with a sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "Well, they say parenthood is good practice for functioning on minimal sleep, right?"

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. "I think I need a lot more practice."

"You're doing an amazing job, baby," he assures you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. "I'm truly in awe of you."

"Thanks, but I feel like a mess most of the time."

Jungkook shakes his head and gently guides you to look up at him. "If this is what a mess looks like, then I'll take it," he says softly, leaning in to steal a kiss.

In the eighth month, the physical strain of pregnancy becomes more apparent, introducing moments of fatigue and vulnerability. Everyday tasks like tying your shoes or putting a load of laundry in become increasingly challenging. However, with Jungkook as your husband, his attentive care shines through. He insists on handling all the chores without a second thought, from washing the dishes to preparing meals, often coaxing you to rest while he handles things.

"You really don't have to do all this," you protest with a weary smile as Jungkook scrubs a pot clean, his sleeves rolled up.

"I want to," he insists, flashing a reassuring grin over his shoulder.

You start to rise from the couch, still intent on helping, but Jungkook rushes over and gently guides you back onto the cushions. His touch is both firm and tender.

"Please, just relax, honey," he says softly, kneeling beside you. His hands find yours, warm and comforting, as he gives them a light kiss.

"But-" you begin, a hint of resistance in your voice as you look up at Jungkook.

"I know this isn’t easy," he says, his expression softening with understanding. "But let me take care of you, okay? I've got this."

You sigh, torn between wanting to ease his burden and accepting his offer of support. "I just feel like I should be doing more," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration.

Jungkook shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "You've already done so much," he reassures you, his gaze unwavering. "Let me handle things tonight. Tomorrow, we can tackle everything together again, okay?"

His words soothe the inner conflict within you, and you reluctantly nod, knowing he's right. "Okay," you concede softly, “Thank you.”

In the ninth month, you're surrounded by friends and family who gather at your house to celebrate your baby shower. The room is adorned with soft pastel decorations and delicate baby-themed accents, reflecting the joyous anticipation of your impending newborn.

"Look at you, all grown up and about to be a dad," Yoongi teases Jungkook, earning a playful swat on the arm from his wife.

Jungkook laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess it's happening. Better start practicing my dad jokes, huh? Got any you haven’t used yet hyung?" He winks at Yoongi, who rolls his eyes in good-natured amusement.

Taehyung joins in, holding up a quirky baby outfit. "This would look adorable on your little one, don't you think?" he suggests with a grin, adding to the playful banter.

Jimin, always the entertainer, spins around the room, capturing everyone's attention. "I can't wait to spoil this baby rotten!" he exclaims with a mischievous grin, eliciting laughter from the group. "I'll be the best uncle ever, just you wait!"

Jungkook chuckles, wrapping an arm around you. "Yeah, we might have to keep an eye on Uncle Jimin's antics once this baby is born.”

Finally, the tenth month arrives, and you approach your due date with growing anticipation. One June morning, as you're bustling about the kitchen, an unfamiliar warmth between your legs startles you. Your heart skips a beat with excitement and a touch of nervousness as you realize what’s just happened.

"Jungkook!" you call out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook hurries into the kitchen, eyes widening as he sees the puddle on the floor. "Please tell me your water just broke and that's not just a spill," he says, his voice filled with a mix of concern and excitement.

You nod, feeling a rush of emotions. "I think so. We need to go to the hospital."

With swift action, Jungkook helps you gather your hospital bag and gently guides you to the car. The drive is filled with a mix of anticipation and supportive words from Jungkook, his hand firmly holding yours all the way. You focus on your breathing, trying to stay calm and centered as you prepare for the birth of your baby girl.

In the delivery room, surrounded by medical staff and with Jungkook by your side, you endure the intensity of labor. Hours pass in a whirlwind of effort and support, until finally, with a spirited cry, your baby girl enters the world.

As you hold her for the first time, a sense of overwhelming love washes over you both. "She's perfect," you whisper, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks.

Jungkook leans in for a quick peck before gently kissing your baby girl’s forehead. "Just like her mom," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

After much consideration, you both decide on the name Ara, a name that symbolizes beauty and grace, perfectly fitting for your precious daughter.

It's now mid-July, and the late afternoon sun bathes the living room in a soft, golden glow as Jungkook sways gently with Ara in his arms. It's hard to believe almost six weeks have passed since bringing your little angel home. Ara has recently started smiling, and you can't help but notice how much it resembles her father's. Her small frame seems even tinier against his broad chest now, her head nestled against his shoulder as if she were listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Jungkook's movements are graceful and tender, his voice humming along to the lullaby as he continues dancing with your daughter. You lean against the doorway, a tender smile playing on your lips as you watch the scene unfold. Soft strains of a lullaby play in the background, blending with the sweet sound of your daughter's giggles while her tiny hands reach up to grasp Jungkook's fingers.

"Appa's dancing with you, sweetheart," you murmur, your voice filled with affection and pride.

Jungkook glances up, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of love and happiness. "She loves our little dance sessions, doesn't she?"

"She adores you," you reply softly, feeling a warm swell of love in your chest.

Seeing Jungkook, once uncertain about fatherhood due to his difficult past, now embracing your daughter with tenderness, fills you with pride. The love and devotion he pours into every sway speak volumes about the kind of father he has become – patient, nurturing, and utterly devoted.

As the lullaby reaches its gentle conclusion, Jungkook carefully lowers your daughter into her crib, tucking her in with a soft blanket. She coos softly, her eyelids fluttering as she settles into a peaceful sleep. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to us," he whispers before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Later that evening, after a leisurely dinner, you find yourselves nestled on the couch in the cozy warmth of your living room. A single lamp in the far corner casts soft shadows across Jungkook's face as he idly traces patterns on your arm, lost in thought.

"Hey," you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops you. "What's on your mind?"

Jungkook looks at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes hold a glint of contemplation.

"I was thinking… about Ara."

You nod encouragingly, "What about her?"

"She's going to grow up so fast," Jungkook muses, his voice laced with a hint of sentiment. "And… I can't help but imagine her with a little brother or sister someday."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. "You've been thinking about another baby?"

Jungkook nods, his gaze searching yours for understanding and reassurance. "Yeah. I mean, not right now, of course. But… in the future. I think Ara would love having a sibling to grow up with."

A soft smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand gently. "I think so too. I'm sure she'd make a wonderful big sister."

He leans closer, his forehead brushing against yours in a gesture of intimacy and connection. "I just wanted to talk about it, you know? Make sure we're on the same page."

"We are," you assure him, "Whenever you're ready, I'm ready too."

Jungkook's lips find yours in a tender kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I love you and I'm so happy we're finally starting a family. Thank you for making me a father."

a/n: Too sweet? Perhaps so, but it's how I roll 😎 haha anyway, if you were looking forward to a more detailed baby-making scene, well it's in the series so have at it lol. But now...I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll open my requests for some more drabbles with the TLTD couple (or I'll make my own requests haha)

Tags:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinker @babystarcandykookie @glossyyyymin @siudema @justanotherkpopstanlol

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[thetriumphantpanda]

Baby Love | Joel Miller

A Trial & Error One Shot

Summary | It's coming to the end of lambing season, but there's one sheep left to give birth. Noticing she's struggling, you spend the night trying to soothe her, reflecting on your own experiences in her position.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Warnings | Joel & Pretty Girl are still as horny as ever for each other so this is explicit. Mentions of ranching, sheep and animals giving birth. Mentions of human childbirth and pregnancy (I have never had my own children so please go easy on me), also mentions of how dirty it is when a sheep gives birth (blood/guts ect). Explicit smut including oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV smut IN THE BARN, creampie, Joel being a menace, PRETTY GIRL ALSO BEING A MENACE. No use of Y/N, no-outbreak AU.

Authors Note | It has been such a joy to write Pretty Girl again, I've missed her something terrible, and I'm so happy that the dynamic between her and Joel is still going strong, even if I have abandoned them for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and if there are any aspects of this families lives that you'd like to see, feel free to request it in my ask box!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Lambing season is coming to an end - something you’re eternally grateful for. It’s been a busy few weeks - early mornings and late nights for both Joel and Tommy, leaving you with the twins, Joshua and Ellie to keep entertained. Not that you’d have it any other way - your dysfunctional little family makes you happy every day.

With Joshua at school and the twins with Joel as he took Ellie into town for an appointment, you’re out in the fields with Tommy, making sure the remaining sheep yet to give birth are doing alright. You don’t profess to being an expert, but you’d like to think that your motherly instincts can go beyond humans, knowing when certain sheep are due and when some of them are starting to struggle.

It’s been an easy lambing season this year - most of the girls are seasoned professionals by now, needing only a light touch and a refill of their water more than anything, but there’s one sheep you are worried about. She was from lambing season a few years ago and this will be her first time. When you head into the barn, she’s stood in the corner of one of the pens, moving very little but bleating every once in a while. You know it’ll happen soon, but you’re worried about her.

“Don’t worry your head, sugar,” Tommy soothes, running a hand down the back of your head when it’s time to leave, “It’s nature, she’ll know what to do.”

But, led in bed that night, there’s something that you can’t push from the back of your mind. This worry that takes over you. She’ll be on her own in there, being one of the very last to give birth, and what if she’s scared? What if something goes wrong? You remember how scared you’d been when it came to having Joshua.

So you sigh, push back the sheets, and get dressed. You leave Tommy a note in case he wakes in the night and worries about where you are. You can’t say the horses in the small stable next to the house are enthused about having a torched shined at them in the middle of the night, but thankfully yours doesn’t put up much fuss when you saddle it and make the journey through the dark fields to the barn.

Flicking on the lights, you’re immediately glad you came. The sheep in question is led on her side, breathing laboured and fast. As you walk towards her, she kicks her legs a little and lets out a pained bleat.

“I know baby,” You coo, making sure the gate is shut behind you, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

You fall to your knees in the soft hay a little way from her, hoping not to spook her, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence. She’s led down near the wall, so you crawl over a little and lean your back against it, stretching your legs out, just to be near her if she needs you.

The sheep lets out another pained bleat but she moves a little, up from her side and onto her feet. She walks closer to you, leaning down to prod your hand with her nose. You let out a little chuckle, letting your hand run down her head. The ranch dog likes when you scratch behind his ears, so you do the same here, which has her settling back down onto her side with her head on your thigh.

“It’s one of the most wonderful things,” You speak to her softly, continuing to pet at her head, “Having babies, but they always forget to mention how much it fucking hurts.”

She lets out another soft bleat, moving her body a little to get comfortable, or as comfortable as is possible when you’re in labour.

Watching her, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your experience in her position. The first twinges of pain, low in your back that turned into pain everywhere. There wasn't a single position that was comfortable, no way to sit or lie or stand that could take the pain away. Then there was the exhaustion - after hours of waiting and more time pushing and pushing, there were moments when you didn’t think you could do it anymore, that you’d just close your eyes, drift off and wake up with a lovely, healthy baby perched in your arms.

But then, there’s that moment of relief, when the midwife had told you it’s okay honey, one more push and it’ll be done and it was and you could hear him crying and then he was on your chest and you were crying and so was Tommy. No-one ever mentions that bit either - how within seconds you could look down at a baby, your baby, and be completely and utterly in love with him. That’s what made it all worth it. That’s what made you want to do it again. It’s what makes you think you’d do it for the rest of your life if you could, just to have that one moment where that baby is in your arms for the first time.

“It’s worth it though,” You speak down to the sheep, “All this pain will be worth it in the end when we’ve got your beautiful little lamb with us.”

And it is. It’s all a bit dramatic in the end. The lamb gets stuck and you need to offer a helping hand to get it out, but almost immediately the mother sheep is doing exactly what she should, cleaning it off as you do the thing you’ve seen Joel do to help clear it’s airways, sticking a little bit of hay up one of it’s nostrils.

“Look mama,” You coo at the older sheep, a hand on her head as she works to get her little lamb clean, “Look what you did, you clever girl.”

Joel doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the barn that morning, but it certainly wasn’t to see you on your knees in the hay, rubbing a newborn lamb with straw. He can see from this angle that your clothes are filthy, covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you…? Have you….?

“Pretty girl,” He speaks softly, not sure you know he’s there, “What are you doing?”

You turn to him and it’s clear to see you’ve done exactly what he thinks you have and helped this sheep give birth, the gunk all over your clothes is also wiped across your cheek and forehead.

“She-” You trail off, “The sheep, she was struggling and I didn’t want her to be on her own.”

He opens the gate to the pen, walking in to fall beside you on his knees, “Have you been here all night?” He asks, letting his hands give the small lamb the once over.

“Pretty much,” You nod, “We had a lovely talk, didn’t we?” You ask to the mother sheep who is standing a few steps away, carefully observing Joel as he looks at her lamb.

“Did she do okay?”

“I had to get in there at the end,” You explain to him, “I think it was stuck, so I just gave her a little helping hand.”

Once he’s satisfied that the lamb is okay he shuffles back a little, watching as you do the same, letting the mother sheep have some time with her baby, “You did a good job,” He praises, letting his hand run down the back of you head, “Proud of you, pretty girl.”

He helps you to you feet, bends a little to brush as much stray hay from your jeans as he can before he steps back and really takes you in. It’s unconventional, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve got your hands dirty, spent your night here on your own to help one of his sheep, and the fact that you’re covered in dirt and hay, something about it all makes his jeans go a little tighter, something that he’s not quick enough to hide.

“Are you hard, cowboy?” He hears you tease before you’re stepping forward, “Does the sight of me covered in blood and guts turn you on?”

He rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, leaving the pen now he’s satisfied the sheep will be okay, but he can hear your feet following him and then your hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“You’ve not gone all shy on me, have you?” You speak softly, gently moving him so he turns a little.

“Have I ever been shy, pretty girl?”

“Then tell me,” You shrug, smirk plastered across your face, “Does this,” He watches as you drag a hand over the mess that is your clothes, “Turn you on?”

“You wanna know the truth?” He asks, voice low, “I wanna bend you over and get you to shut the hell up.”

Joel can’t help but let his own smirk show when your eyebrows raise, but it’s a fleeting later in your guise, because you’re turning around, showing him your back as you walk towards the stacked bales of hay in the corner. He can hear the clinking of your belt buckle and the telltale sound of you unzipping your jeans.

He’s stuck to the ground as he watches you pull down your jeans and your underwear, baring your backside to him. You pull them all the way down, letting them pool at your ankles as you spread your legs a little wider, bending yourself over the hay in the exact position he had in his head.

“Come on then cowboy,” You say, head turned over your shoulder to speak to him, “Come and shut me the hell up.”

It’s been an automatic response of his for years now, that when you present yourself to him, in any way, he falls to his knees like someone praying to an altar, and today is no different. He’s on his knees behind you, at just the right height to grip his palms to your ass, spread you open wide for him.

He wastes no time, he rarely does anymore, letting his mouth close over the hole of your pussy, somehow already weeping for him. He lets his tongue dip inside, lapping at your slick. It’s been years and he still doesn’t think he’ll get over how good you taste, how it lingers on his tongue for hours whilst he goes about his day.

Whilst he’s lapping up your slick, he lets one of his hands reach around, thumb searching out your clit, little circles rubbed across the little bud. He listens, feeling his cock throb in his jeans when you let out a gasp and a little moan.

“Not so talkative now, are we, pretty girl?” He mumbles, barely pulling off your pussy to speak, before he’s switching his hand and his mouth, leaning just enough so his tongue can flick against your clit, one of his fingers slipping inside you easily.

He chuckles against you when you moan at the curling of his fingers inside you - he loves when he can reduce you to a whimpering mess in seconds. It doesn’t take him long to feel the telltale signs that he’s going to make you come either. He can feel you start to fluttering around the two fingers he now has buried inside you, can feel the way you try and tighten your thighs around his face, so he carries on exactly how he is - suckling at your clit and moving his fingers in and out of your cunt until you’re coming for him, a high-pitched moan of his name from your mouth.

Joel doesn’t wait, he can’t wait. He stands, making quick work of pushing his own jeans and underwear from his body, finally freeing his aching cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He spits obscenely into his palm, running a tight fist up and down his length a few times before he’s dipping his knees, rubbing the head of his cock against the slick hole of your cunt, listening as he pushes himself inside you, giving you every inch of him as slowly as he possibly can, until he’s sheathed inside your tight heat.

He leans forward, covering your body with his own, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he gets used to the feeling of you clenching and fluttering around him. He can feel you wiggling a little under him, trying to get him to move, so he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, squeezing a little, stopping your movements altogether.

“Keep still,” He warns, “You need to keep still a minute, baby.”

There’s never going to be a time where he doesn’t need to do this. The soft, wet heat of your cunt and those first movements inside you that make him feel like he’s eighteen again, ready to come with a few thrusts.

He gives himself another minute before he starts pulling his cock out of you, slowly dragging through your slick until just the tip is left inside you, then he’s slamming himself back into you, setting a bruising pace.

The sound is obscene - there’s the wet squelch he can hear whenever he pushes his cock back into you, the slapping of his skin against yours and the way you both sound when you’re moaning each others names. He’s not going to last long, he knows it. All of this combined with the fact that anyone could wander in and see you has a thrill settling across his spine.

Joel leans forward again, letting his teeth bite down gently on the skin of your neck. He can feel the way your cunt is clenching, if he can just hold on, just a little longer, he can get another one from you, he knows it.

“Tell me,” He chokes out into your ear, “Tell me how to get you there.”

You let out a loud moan, turning your face to his, kissing him, all teeth and tongue and clumsy, “Bite me again.”

So he does, he lets his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking gently, sure to leave a mark, his hand slinking underneath your belly and down to your pussy, soaked bud of nerves exposed just right for him to use his fingers to swirl across it a few times.

“Oh my God-” He can hear you moaning, “Joel, fuck, please, don’t stop, just like that.”

Within seconds, he can feel you coming on his cock - cunt pulled tight, sucking him in. He feels the gush of slick from your pussy too, cock angled just right to have you squirting for him, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. It’s the tightening of your walls around him that sets his own orgasm off - that flush of pleasure across his body that blooms even more as he empties himself inside you. He can feel everything, the way your pussy clenches every time he gives you more, sucking his spend in as deep as possible.

He pushes himself up off you a little, hands on your hips, frantically sucking in air. He groans a little as he pulls himself from your cunt, standing back to admire how his cum drips from you. He doesn’t linger long, bending down to pull your clothes back up, gentle kiss pressed to the swell of your bottom as he does. He lets you zip yourself up whilst he puts himself right.

“Well, that was a great start to the morning.” You muse, pressing up on your tiptoes, gripping at his flannel shirt.

He’s about to speak when there’s a bleating from the sheep in the pen behind you, you both laugh, “Someone else agrees.”

He dips down, kisses your mouth slowly, gently, “Go and get clean,” He speaks against your lips, turning you around and giving you a tap on your ass as he does, “You’re filthy.”

“Still turns you on though.”

“Go on, get outta here.”

[suzukiblu]

. . . anyway LISTEN I told 'yall November was gonna be "obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU" month, and I really did not INTEND to post my daily words for it again this year but also, like, fuck it, we ball. No promises I will update EVERY day this time around but again: fuck it, we ball. ( also uhhhhh I've been writing this fic kinda-sorta-semi out of order lately but there is still a significant chunk of word count I'd already written that I would've pre-gamed and posted YESTERDAY if I'd thought I was gonna be doing this, sooooo hope nobody minds us kickin' off the month with like an extra 5.9k on top of the 1.6k of obligatory sugar that I ACTUALLY wrote today behind this here cut? yes? no?? Bueller???? )

get sugared, Super-boytoy. Tim, you just . . . you just do your future-supervillain best over there, buddy. you just do what you can with yourself. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I wanted to,” Tim says again, and Kon glances away and bites his lip, turning the flowers by the stem again. 

“It’s, uh–pretty,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, it’s–cool. Thanks.” 

“If I can’t bring you fresh ones, well . . .” Tim shrugs. Kon glances back to him, and very briefly presses one of the orchid blooms against his own mouth. His face is still all flushed and his eyes are still a little soft, and it’s . . . it makes a picture, alright, even if it's not one Tim's specifically set up to take. Especially with the gold eyeliner and his blue eyes both matching the orchids. 

Tim didn't plan that, obviously, but he thinks it makes up for the sapphire versus ruby thing.

“Um . . .” Kon trails off, biting his lip. Glances down at the orchids from under his lashes. It doesn't make him any less of a picture, for sure. “So, um–do you wanna see the ‘something nice’ I got?” 

Tim blinks, immediately thinks of the most embarrassing option that Kon could possibly mean, and desperately tries to fight back a mortified flush at the idea. But, well–everything he can see Kon wearing is something he remembers buying him already, so . . . 

Oh god, he needs his brain to shut up right now. Immediately. Right now and immediately and forever. 

“Sure,” he says like a normal person, trying not to panic. “What is it?” 

Kon, thank god, pulls a little rectangular package inexplicably–and inexpertly–wrapped in newspaper comics out of the same coat pocket he tucked the jewelry box in. There's plain white string tied around it in a bow. 

Tim . . . blinks. 

If he didn't know better, he'd think Kon had . . . 

“I, um, got you something?” Kon says, and Tim stares blankly at the package. He–what? “For once, anyway. Well, I guess, uh, technically you got it for yourself, and actually this is kinda stupid maybe, you can literally just get yourself whatever you want whenever, obviously, but I just thought, uh–” 

“You got me something?” Tim repeats in surprise. Kon turns pink and shoves the package at him. Tim is too bewildered not to take it. 

“I thought it’d be, uh–fun,” he says, biting his lip and still very visibly blushing. “I mean–that we could have some fun with it. Y’know?” 

Tim stares at the package for another moment, then looks up at Kon. Alright, this maybe isn’t exactly the vibe he was going for here in terms of who’s paying for what and who’s giving things to who, but . . . well, Kon apparently used his allowance for whatever this is, at least, which gives him a reason to have wanted the allowance, so . . . he can work with that, he figures. Like, it’s an “in” to work from; a step in the process. 

He can’t tell what Kon’s gotten him from the shape of the package, though the edges are hard even though it doesn’t feel like it’s in a box or anything. “Have some fun” isn’t much of a clue, though he supposes it does imply something interactive. Maybe it’s a game of some kind, or–

Tim unties the bow and splits apart the clumsy seam of the comic-page wrapping paper with his thumb, tugging through its layers to reveal the package’s contents, and Kon flushes a little darker and watches him just a little bit nervously. 

Tim doesn’t actually know what to say. 

“I just thought, um, a real one’d probably take better pictures than a phone can,” Kon says sheepishly, slanting his eyes away and half-hiding his face behind the orchids. “I made sure the battery was charged and the guy at the store said it's got a lot of storage, I guess, so . . .” 

“You got me a camera,” Tim says blankly, which is the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him short of, like . . . no, it’s pretty much just the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. By far it’s the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. 

“You like taking pictures, right?” Kon fidgets a little, then smiles just barely shyly as he glances back at him. Tim's heart skips a few beats. Or more than just “a few”, maybe. “So, um–I thought maybe we could go do that . . . somewhere. You know, after dinner.” 

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him a little stupidly. It’s not a particularly good camera, honestly–like, it’s a perfectly functional model for casual amateur use and a decently reliable commercial brand, but he’s got much better ones that are all professional-quality. He hasn’t used any of them in a while and most of them are admittedly a few years old now, but . . . yeah, this was a hundred bucks max, if that, and his cheapest camera was over five hundred. 

Note to self: raise Kon’s allowance. 

Also, apparently now his favorite camera is the kind of camera civilian amateurs just take random family photos on. Apparently that’s a thing. 

Tim really doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Kon not only remembered something he mentioned having an interest in, Kon bothered to actually get him something he thought he’d have an interest in. That is really, really not the dynamic he’s been encouraging here, for one thing. And also, why even would Kon do that? Like–really? 

“Thanks,” Tim says sincerely, turning the camera over in his hands and feeling incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “I love it.” 

“Cool,” Kon says, biting his lip around a smile. His face is still a little pink and he looks all soft and pretty like that, especially with the flowers still in his hand. Tim really was not prepared for Kon having “soft and pretty” in his repertoire. Like, that was not a thing he ever expected to see from his cocky, crowing brawler of a teammate. 

Kon’s only a brawler because he thinks he’s supposed to be, though, Tim’s pretty sure. Like–increasingly sure, at this point. 

He really, really needs to figure out how to get Kon to tell Robin more about his TTK. Or, like . . . anything about it, apparently. Just literally any single thing, at this point. 

“Thank you,” he says again, inspecting the camera assessingly and making note of all its functions and ports and the generally obvious basics. “We could go take some shots around downtown later, if you’re up for that?” 

Kon turns bright red, and Tim doesn’t understand for about half a second before remembering–the last time Kon had talked to him about taking pictures, he’d offered . . . 

Oh Jesus. 

Tim is either incredibly stupid or–actually, he doesn’t even know. Lucky? Embarrassing? The dumbest moron alive who didn’t even realize he was being flirted with again? All those things and several even worse ones? 

Kon had offered to let him take spicy pics of him the last time they'd talked about taking pictures, whatever “spicy” means to Kon–brash, impulsive, shameless Kon–and Tim’s the idiot whose first thought upon Kon following up that conversation by very literally giving him a camera was to go take pictures of fucking downtown.

He is the most useless “sugar daddy” to ever sugar. 

Well, to be fair, it is Gotham downtown, so it’s very–

“I like taking pictures of streets and buildings,” he blurts belatedly, fumbling to sound like just the oblivious idiot that he is and not some kind of weird fucking perv who’s trying to get Kon arrested for public indecency. Jesus, he’s stupid. “And people-watching is interesting too. You know, stuff like that.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, and looks several ways at once, including both a little relieved and a little disheartened, which . . . okay, Tim would literally die if they actually went somewhere to take spicy pics tonight, so is unfortunately unavoidable. He’s not trying to make Kon not feel–attractive or anything, but he needs at least twenty-four hours to make a plan and also two or three or seventeen contingency plans before . . . anything like that happens. Ever. Even in theory. “Um–yeah, sure. That sounds cool.” 

“Cool,” Tim says, still desperately pretending to be an idiot. It’s not hard, on account of the fact that he very much is an idiot. 

Kon pauses for a moment, then perks up a little, seeming to think of something, and asks–“When’s dinner?” 

“Our reservation’s in forty-five minutes,” Tim says, double-checking the time on his phone just to be sure. “Well, forty-six. I figured that’d let us take our time walking over and maybe we could window-shop a little on the way.” 

And also shop-shop a lot, if Kon gives him literally even the slightest indication that he wants or needs something. Just if it comes up or anything. That’s all. 

Tim definitely did plan their route to the restaurant to cut straight through the middle of the downtown shopping district, either way. 

“We could’ve just met there, dude,” Kon says wryly, but grins anyway, glancing down at the orchids in his hand again. “Forty-six minutes, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Tim confirms. 

“And you like taking pictures of streets and buildings?” Kon asks, his grin turning just a little bit sly. Tim frowns briefly in confusion, not sure what the grin’s about. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Gotham has a lot of really interesting architecture and design. Like, it’s an old city, and one that’s been pretty resistant to updates in a lot of areas or just not had the money for those updates. So you get a lot of places with a lot of character and it’s basically the bastard child of gothic and art deco design with a side of industrial warehouse, depending on the part of town you’re in. Like, Crime Alley and the Diamond District have very different vibes, but they’re both very Gotham vibes, if you know what to look for. It’s–” 

Kon is grinning really widely at him, for some reason. Tim realizes he’s rambling like a moron and turns red. 

“Uh,” he says, repressing a wince. “Yes. Yeah. I like taking pictures of streets and buildings.” 

“Cool,” Kon says, and then he carefully packs the orchids back into their box and it back into the gift bag and transfers the chocolates and jewelry back into it too, then grins even wider at him as he hooks the bag’s handles over his arm and into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t drop the camera, babe.” 

“Wha–” Tim starts to say, and then Kon grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the closest alley, which is terrible survival instincts for Gotham, oh god, but before Tim can say anything about that Kon’s wrapped an arm around his waist just tight enough to just barely lift him off his feet and bolted straight up into the air with him. “Shit!”

Tim doesn’t drop the camera because he’s held onto cameras while falling off literal buildings before, but definitely only because of that. Muscle memory, or whatever. Also he’s been snatched off his feet by Bruce and Dick plenty of times and thrown off rooftops by multiple rogues and thugs over the years and these days gets regularly dragged around by Bart, all while holding very important things he could not afford to drop, so it’s not like either the sudden jolt or the effort to keep his grip on the camera are as disorienting as it otherwise would be. Just . . . 

Ugh, Tim realizes, absolutely unimpressed with himself upon realizing that the breathless feeling he’s having right now is not actually related to the swift and sudden increase in altitude, but is actually just because it’s Kon holding him. 

He is an idiot, isn’t he, he reflects resignedly. Just an actual literal idiot. 

Jesus. 

“Whatcha think?” Kon asks with a grin as he comes to a stop in mid-air with him. He stops very suddenly, but Tim notices a distinct lack of jarring with said stop, which implies Kon’s got his TTK around him again and probably completely around him, which means–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and very quickly makes himself stop thinking about that. 

“It’s cool,” he says, because a normal civilian would think flying was something interesting and unusual, but it’s hard to act too excited about a move Kon probably pulls on literally everyone he–

“I meant the view, babe!” Kon says with a laugh, and Tim . . . blinks. 

And then he looks down. 

They’re hovering a few thousand feet up, and downtown is already lit up bright in the early evening gloom. And Kon . . . 

“Streets and buildings, as ordered,” Kon says, grinning wider with a smug, cocky look on his face. 

Oh no, he’s hot, Tim realizes with dread, and then blinks again. Stares down at the city below, past the whipping wind and down into the busy streets and the bright, dazzling lights cutting through the murky gloom. He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, obviously, because of course he has–he’s been climbing these rooftops for years, and every night he runs across and swings back and forth between them and utterly fails to learn how to do more than a double backflip. 

One day, he promises himself distractedly, and then looks back at Kon. 

He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, but never just because someone thought he’d like it. Like–not like this, he means. Dick's shown him a few particularly special or exhilarating views over the years, yeah, but . . . definitely not like this. Not for a reason like this. 

And definitely not while peacocking all smug and pretty dressed up in clothes that he bought him and holding him close enough to kiss. 

Kon’s expression turns a little sheepish; a little soft. Not quite shy, but . . . 

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice pitched a little quieter, and Tim has the much worse and even more dread-inducing realization of oh no, he’s CUTE.

He swallows, briefly, and feels his face burn. 

“Yeah,” he manages in an almost-normal voice. “I like it.” 

Kon grins at him, brighter than any city light, and Tim barely keeps himself from dropping the camera after all. 

“Thanks,” he attempts awkwardly, making himself focus on the camera and resisting the urge to take an immediate shot of that city-light grin. 

Then he takes one anyway, because of course he does. Kon laughs in surprise, then makes a face at him teasingly. 

“Hey, you can buy this face in any cheap gossip rag, focus on the fun stuff,” he jokes, jerking his head towards the city below. Tim looks searchingly at him for a moment, and then for obvious reasons snaps another picture. Kon flushes a little again. They probably won't even come out from this close, but . . . 

“You’re the most fun I’ve had all week,” Tim says, which is definitely too honest but clearly necessary to make a point of saying. Kon turns redder, ducking his head and grinning around his bitten lip. 

“You don’t have to say that kind of thing to me, man,” he says, and it comes across almost like a reflex. Tim hates . . . yeah, just literally everybody Kon’s ever known in his whole entire life, actually? Like, pretty much everybody? Bart gets a break because he grew up alone in VR and is therefore terrible with people and the girls get a break because they haven’t known any of them that long, but everybody else can just take a long walk off a short gutter, in Tim’s opinion. 

Especially any “everybody” from Cadmus. 

Or Metropolis, at this point. 

“I’m not saying anything I don’t want to say,” he says simply, and goes to the effort to frame a few shots of the skyline so Kon will know he appreciates . . . well, not the angle, exactly, but the thought. 

Technically he is usually on top of a building when he’s doing this, so the angle is actually a slightly different one than he’s used to–not that he’s been taking photos lately, just–not the point, really. Kon got him a camera and brought him up here because he clearly thought he’d like it, and damned if Tim is gonna do anything to make him think he doesn’t. 

He has better cameras for things like this–aerial shots and night photography and long-distance and the like, and better cameras for closeup candids too–but he already knows these pictures are all going to be exactly what he wants them to be, even the ones that don't come out. 

Or especially those, maybe. 

He's not sure how he'd explain that feeling to someone else. 

Kon flies them around, staying out of sight behind the light pollution and among the shadows of the buildings, and Tim takes . . . a lot more pictures than he needs to, actually. He was just trying to make sure Kon knew he appreciated him thinking of him, but actually . . . 

Well. 

It’s fun, that’s all. 

It’s . . . been a while, kinda, since he got to spend this much time on just photography and nothing else. Or–any time at all, really. 

Not that this is nothing else, obviously, given that Kon’s holding him and it is very, very hard to concentrate on anything besides that, but it is the kind of a view a standard civilian never gets, and it’s kind of nice to be flying for non-work-related reasons, for once. Like . . . novel, he guesses. A different experience. 

Technically he and Dick do “fly” together just for fun, sometimes, but that’s different. Like–so many kinds of different. It helps them in their work–keeps the rooftops familiar and them both in shape and in sync–but he can’t take photos when he’s trying to keep up with Nightwing across the rooftops of Gotham, and it’s not like Dick’s carrying him either. 

Also, it’s much less flustering and difficult to concentrate through, because again, Dick is not carrying him, and also Dick doesn’t do things like wear clothes he bought or do his eyeliner and paint his nails for him. Or, uh . . . anything like that. 

Also, definitely the “spicy pics” thing is not at all a thing, with Dick. Like, not even slightly, in any way whatsoever. And they’ve also never made out in a changing room or the back of a planetarium or– 

Look, there’s a lot of ways it’s different, okay? 

A lot of ways. 

“I'm not boring you, am I?” Tim asks a little bit sheepishly as Kon lands them on a ledge just behind one of the bigger gargoyles, tucked in tight in the shadows between it and the building it's perched on. “We can probably still fit in some window-shopping before dinner, if you want.” 

“Oh my god, dude, I promise we can do things you don't have to spend money on,” Kon says with a laugh as he lets him down on the ledge. “Though if it helps you technically did spend money on this, given how I got the camera and all.” 

“It's your allowance,” Tim says, because he wants to make sure Kon actually gets that. “You can spend it however you want.” 

“Well, I spent it how I wanted,” Kon says, and then steps closer into his space with a smile. Tim ends up sitting on the gargoyle’s back as Kon leans down to kiss him, and it's not like he's never kissed anyone while perched on a gargoyle before, but somehow it feels like something new anyway. New and electric, bright and easy and smeared with the city lights and thrilling in its shadows, and– 

Kon breaks off the kiss, though he keeps a hand on Tim’s arm, probably to make sure the squishy untrained civilian won't accidentally fall off the ledge and get splatted on the concrete. Tim barely holds himself back from chasing his mouth. 

“It's cool, anyway. Um, doing stuff you're into with you, I mean,” Kon says, looking a little soft and almost-shy again, and never mind, Tim not only needs to chase his mouth, he needs to set up a damn manhunt for it. “You're real cute when you get excited, man. I mean, uh–just–” 

The manhunt is going to require a very significant budget, Tim notes. 

Then he kisses him again, obviously. Kon melts down into it–into him, really–and wraps his arms around his neck, and Tim feels several kind of ways about it. Admittedly, it's the easier option with him sitting on the gargoyle and Kon leaning over him, but Kon's put his arms around his neck a couple of times now, and, well . . . 

That's just not something he would've expected from him, he guesses. Not “cool” or masculine or badass or . . . whatever, exactly, Kon thinks he's supposed to be. 

So Tim . . . likes it, he thinks, that Kon doesn't seem to think he needs to be like that around Tim Drake. 

Robin’s sure as hell never seen Kon in eyeliner. 

Robin's loss, Tim thinks. 

. . . maybe he's compartmentalizing a little too much these days, but still. 

Kon makes a very, very soft little sound between their mouths and then laughs, and Tim promises himself he won't stop at Gotham: he'll take over Metropolis for this asshole one day. Even if that means putting up with Lex Luthor and Superman. And also, like . . . everything about Metropolis. 

He'll figure it out. Supervillainy is still a long-term plan, so he's got time. 

Anyway, if he gives it to Kon after he takes it over he won't have to put up with it, so it's whatever. Sugar daddies do that kind of thing, right? Get their sugar-ees a city? 

. . . okay, definitely not. Like, very definitely not. 

“Okay date idea, then?” Kon asks as he leans back a bit and does a very bad job of biting back a smile, his face a little flushed and arms squeezing a little tighter around his neck. 

Tim will get him Metropolis if it kills Lex Luthor. 

“Very okay,” he says, smiling back at him. Kon grins, his face turning just a little bit redder, and then kisses him again. Tim has absolutely no complaints about that. Ever. He can’t even imagine a complaint he’d have about that, in fact. 

Worst case scenario, he’ll get them in at another restaurant if they miss their reservation. 

He really doesn't know what else he's supposed to do about how easy Kon blushes. 

They definitely spend too long making out against the gargoyle and Tim definitely lets himself get too riled up during it–and does not think about tactile telekinesis or any kind of related passive perception while he does–but by the time he’s the one pressing Kon back against the building, he really doesn’t care anymore. 

The fact Kon is even willing to let him do that when there is literally no way Tim could ever actually pin him anywhere without a way to sabotage his powers is . . . really, really distracting. Just–so distracting. 

Jesus, Tim thinks, breaking off just long enough to catch his breath for a moment. Kon pants softly against his mouth, which sabotages that even worse than kryptonite would sabotage TTK. 

Jesus, Tim thinks again, and then crushes their mouths back together. 

He doesn’t need to breathe that often. 

Kon makes a softer, breathier sound this time, and Tim does not let himself make it weird by letting his hands wander anywhere outside of second base territory. Frankly he’s not sure second base territory isn’t him making it weird, but Kon started it, so hopefully it’s not? Like–logically it’d follow that Kon wouldn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want touched, right? 

Well–hopefully, anyway. 

The air feels tight, Tim notices suddenly, like the feeling of sinking into deeper pressure when underwater but all at once, and then realizes–oh. 

Uh. 

Okay. 

“Um,” he says, and immediately the feeling of pressure vanishes as Kon jerks back and claps a hand over his own mouth. Which is mostly him pushing Tim back, given their position, but he does crack the brickwork behind him a little. 

Whoops, Tim thinks. 

“Sorry!” Kon blurts. “Sorry, sorry, that’s–sorry! I just, uh–got a little too into it. I won’t do it again.” 

“It’s really not a problem,” Tim says, with absolutely no idea how to take the idea of Kon getting “a little too into it” when kissing him, or the idea that getting a little too into it apparently involves getting wrapped up in TTK a lot more noticeably than making him bulletproof at the museum did. “I mean–it didn’t hurt or anything, I was just surprised.” 

“I–yeah, I know, it’s just–weird,” Kon says, still looking mortified. “So–sorry. That’s all.” 

“I don’t mind weird,” Tim says, because actually the idea of being temporarily at least as invulnerable as Kon is while making out with him implies being able to devote a lot more attention to said making out, as opposed to keeping half an eye out for snipers or rogues or random rooftop criminals. Not that he’d stop paying any attention to that, obviously, just–yeah. Well. 

It’s a little tempting, that’s all. 

“Uh–you don’t?” Kon bites his lip, still looking a little embarrassed. 

“It kind of just felt like scuba-diving, but with less equipment involved,” Tim says with a little shrug, keeping his tone light because “seriously, you have no idea how much I’d like to not be compulsively keeping an eye out for snipers right now” isn’t a very “civilian” thing to say. “And I’m not about to complain about you enjoying kissing me that much either way.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, and flushes a little. “Uh–really?” 

“Really,” Tim says, smiling at him again and tugging gently at the lapels of his jacket to pull himself back in. Kon blushes, and grins, and meets him halfway for the kiss. The sensation of pressure wraps him up again, gentle but undeniable, and Tim feels several kinds of ways about it. 

Maybe even a little bit safe, or at least as safe as anyplace outside the Batcave ever gets. 

Tim knows there’s no such thing as being perfectly, completely safe, but getting all wrapped up in Kon’s TTK and kissed for it makes it hard to remember that. 

Very, very hard. 

They spend a much longer time making out this time. Tim is vaguely aware that they still have a dinner reservation to make, but . . . well, he did pad the time to allow for window-shopping, so even with the time they spent flying around taking pictures, it's probably fine? 

Yeah, no, they’ve definitely missed their reservation by now. Probably way past missed it. Just so, so far past missed it. 

Weirdly, Tim doesn’t care as much as he should, even though he really prefers when things go to plan and also needs Kon to feel appreciated and like he got properly spoiled and taken someplace nice. He’s going to have to figure out something else on the fly, though, because he really does needs Kon to feel appreciated and also needs the excuse to get him more used to getting money spent on him and–

Tim remembers that he needs to breathe more than he's currently breathing and breaks off the kiss. Kon half-chases his mouth with his own, audibly breathless himself. Tim is not equipped to handle Kon breathless. 

That might actually be more flattering than the TTK thing. Or, uh–flustering, maybe. 

Both, maybe. “Both” is probably accurate here. 

Jesus, Tim does not know what he did to deserve Kon getting breathless over something he’s done to him, much less all soft and pretty and–

They have definitely, definitely missed their reservation. Usually Tim has a better sense of time than that, but usually Tim doesn’t have Kon wanting to make out on a Gotham rooftop with him, Like, he thinks he can forgive himself a little bit of disorientation on that one, considering. 

. . . as long as Bruce never finds out he messed up that bad, anyway. Because Bruce would definitely not like hearing he’d messed up that bad, TTK or not. 

Probably especially involving the TTK, actually. Probably Bruce would not take “yeah I let Superboy get distracted enough to unconsciously wrap me up in his Kryptonian-level superpowers while he wasn’t in full control of them and actually, like, encouraged it, kinda? like, explicitly encouraged it, actually”. 

Yeah, Bruce would not like that. 

“Um,” Tim says, and clears his throat a little awkwardly. “So, uh–hungry yet?” 

“You could say that,” Kon murmurs, then flashes him a sharp, wicked grin with his eyes slit open just enough to fix on Tim’s mouth. Tim spares a moment to compartmentalize just enough to not lose his mind about that, then makes the mistake of licking his lips anxiously, sees Kon’s hooded eyes go hot at the sight, and immediately fails to not lose his mind. 

“Uh,” he manages, and then decides they don’t really need to get dinner just yet and maybe they could just, like–no, no, Kon is definitely not getting enough calories from that stupid barely-legal underground lab’s stupid definitely-not-health-code-compliant cafeteria, Tim is not gonna be a bad enough date to not get his date a respectable amount of calories. That is just not a thing that he’s gonna, like . . . thing, as a thing. Or whatever. 

Not like Superman’s been bringing Kon casseroles or anything, the prick. 

“Um, I–uh, might’ve let us get a little too distracted, sorry,” Tim attempts after a moment of mental fumbling, making himself push back from Kon a little and pulling his phone out to check the time. Yeah, they have definitely missed their reservation. Very, very thoroughly have they missed it. 

Dammit. That is not Bat-quality situational awareness. 

“You think that was just you, man?” Kon asks with a little laugh, just barely ducking his head and biting his lip. It is . . . very distracting. As is his face. And his hands, which are still loosely on Tim’s back, and his TTK, which is still loosely . . . basically everywhere, yeah. Just–way too many places for Tim to be rational about, basically. 

“I mean, I was the one who made the reservation,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does his best to at least fake rationality. “So, uh, I should’ve been paying attention to the time. I can see if there’s someplace we can still slip in, it’s a little last-minute for a Friday but–” 

Kon kisses him again. 

Tim was saying something, he’s reasonably sure, but he couldn’t remember whatever it was with a gun to his head. A gun to his head while out of his suit and without Kon on the same floor as him, to be clear. 

Kon leans back and grins at him, all bright and pretty and cutting right through the shade and shadows of Gotham like a spotlight-signal lighting up the cloud cover. Tim remains vaguely aware of the fact that he was doing . . . something. At some point. In theory. 

God, Kon is so pretty. So, so pretty. And everything he’s wearing is something Tim bought him, coat and clothes and jewelry and all. Just–all of it, as far as he can see. 

Tim does not let himself think about what else Kon might or might not be wearing right now. Just–that way lies madness, and also Kon not getting a decent dinner and decent spoiling. 

. . . there’s probably some other ways Tim could spoil him, technically, if he just– 

Tim does not finish that thought. 

“You’re so fucking cute, daddy,” Kon says, still grinning just as signal-bright and pretty at him. Tim is not prepared for literally any of that and nearly melts right off the ledge into an incoherent mess of street pizza. 

“Uh,” he says, swallowing roughly. “We should–are you hungry yet?” 

Kon laughs, for some reason. Tim very quietly and carefully burns alive, and then Kon floats up a few inches and ducks around him and back out into the open air, leaning down to grin at him and reaching to–probably he’s intending to pick him up again, Tim’s brain is vaguely aware, but the rest of Tim is thinking more like hurr durr pretty boy, which is definitely why he ends up reaching up to cup Kon’s face in his hands and tug him down for another kiss, pushing himself up on his toes on the edge of the ledge to reach him easier. Kon makes a soft, breathless little noise, then laughs in delight and kisses him back. 

The wind is cold and sharp and the evening sky is all heavy dark clouds and hazy light pollution and Kon’s wearing clothes Tim bought him, some of which Tim even suggested to him, and he put on makeup and painted his nails to come see him and he’s got a gift bag of little things Tim picked out for him hooked in the crook of his elbow and he liked all of those little things, and they’ve not only missed but obliterated their dinner reservation, and they’re half-on a ledge high above the street and kissing and Kon is just so pretty.

And Kon also bought him a camera and brought him up here because he thought he’d like it and called him “cute”, which are all facts that Tim is definitely going to have to compartmentalize to fully process later, or else he really will melt right off the stupid ledge. 

The spicy pics thing, also, is a thing. The spicy pics thing is, uh–very much a thing. 

Tim is maybe just never gonna process that particular fact in, like, self-defense. 

Ever. 

. . . god, he’s going to have to process that fact at some point, isn’t he. God. That is . . . that is a whole thing that he is going to have to do. Like, effectively and well and throughly.

Maybe it’s not too late to just go supervillain right now, actually. Maybe Kon would be open to, like, minionhood or something. Lots of supervillains put their minions up in their lairs, right? That’s totally a thing, isn’t it? 

Ugh, no, Kon deserves a place he can really feel like is his place and also he has not laid near enough groundwork to get Dick to switch sides. Like, Alfred would, obviously. Alfred will be on-board the second the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan comes up and will probably have useful notes to add. But Dick is gonna require some more long-term finessing and Babs definitely won’t come if Dick doesn’t and– 

Kon laughs into the kiss and cups Tim’s face in return, which is incredibly distracting, and then squishes his face, which is incredibly annoying. 

“Hey!” Tim sputters, and Kon laughs again and leans back just enough to grin at him. 

“You are so weird, dude,” he says. “I can literally hear you thinking.” 

“. . . that’s not me being detached from the situation, I–” Tim starts, unable to repress a wince, and Kon just grins wider, grabs his wrists, and tugs him off the ledge and–oh, okay, that’s a weird sensation, Tim notes, because gravity does absolutely nothing at all to him until Kon’s pulled him into his arms and wrapped him up in them again all easy and secure. . 

So that’s . . . yeah, no, “incredibly distracting” isn’t actually gonna cover this one, considering. 

“Uh,” he says, blinking a couple of times. That. That is definitely not how Superboy holds Robin. 

Frick. 

“I just gotta keep you better attached, right, daddy?” Kon purrs–really purrs, his chest briefly vibrating against Tim’s–and then grins wider at him again with eyes that are, unfortunately, literally goddamn sparkling right now–thanks, gold eyeliner, Tim didn’t need those higher thought processes–before giving him another quick little kiss that Tim actually would like to turn into a four-hour make-out session and maybe also a sleepover and–

God he needs to remember how to compartmentalize. He really, really needs to remember how to compartmentalize. 

Also he needs to kiss Kon’s literal friggin’ brains out, the smug friggin’ asshole.

Mid-air makeouts are the worst possible idea Kon has ever inflicted on him and Tim would sooner fight Killer Croc without his utility belt than point that fact out to him. 

He winds his arms around Kon’s neck and kisses him back, and Kon makes this tiny little–not pleased, not content, but actually happy-sounding noise and kisses back harder. Tim feels gravity stop being a particularly relevant concern again and feels like he’s floating in deep, heavy water but also like he’s the lightest he’s ever been in his life, and it is . . . it is a feeling, alright. 

Kon is a menace. Kon is a problem. 

Kon is so, so damn cute. 

“You are an actual literal brat, baby,” Tim mutters slightly more feelingly than he means to, and Kon’s laugh comes out a little breathier this time and he ducks his head to the side and his face flushes and–

No. Nope. No. Tim needs to not learn anything new about himself or Kon tonight, or, worse, anything about him and Kon. That is just not a thing he has time for in his schedule. He’s got to fit in an anxiety attack and three full files’ worth of casework this weekend, for one, plus his science presentation and that make-up book report, and also come up with someplace else nice enough to take Kon to dinner tonight. 

“So, uh–dinner?” he says very quickly–self-defense, again–and Kon bites his lower lip and grins around it, his face still turned just a little bit away. Tim pretends they’re not effectively pressed together from knee to neck right now. Pretends valiantly. “I mean–um, if you’re hungry yet.” 

Kon laughs, ducking his head lower, the dangling gold teardrop hanging from his ear gleaming warmly in the murky electric city light. Tim goes through multiple stages of emotional processing to keep himself from kissing his neck right behind that earring and completely forgetting about not only dinner, but all his homework and casework and even the anxiety attack. 

Does Kon laugh this much around Robin? 

Tim really doesn’t feel like he does. 

He also doesn’t tell Robin very important things like the fact that he can make other people bulletproof on a whim and map out an entire mall just by standing in it, which is objectively much worse and potentially dangerous a thing not to do, but also Tim is already positive he’s going to miss that laugh like crazy every time he sees Kon with the mask on. 

Robin doesn’t get to see Kon like this at all, even when he lets the asshole eat both stupid boxes of cinnamon bread. 

“Dinner, yeah,” Kon says, grinning again and then taking off backwards across the sky, apparently unconcerned about their chances of hitting a building. Tim’s not really in a proper carry so much as just stretched out against him and wrapped up in his arms, but given the nature of how Kon’s powers work, an actual carry is obivously not really a concern, so . . . 

Oh, Tim realizes as Kon tips back just enough to be reclining in the air, still flying without any apparent care or concern for the aerodynamics of the situation or anything but staying more or less out of view of anyone on the street below. 

Avoiding the street view is good. 

The part where now he’s essentially laying on top of Kon is . . . less good, maybe. 

Maybe he won’t have to convince Kon to go supervillain, at least. Maybe Kon’s already there. 

“Where to, daddy?” Kon asks with a smirk, keeping one arm looped around Tim’s waist and folding the other behind his own head like he’s laying out in a lounge chair on the beach. Tim thinks longingly of smothering him and also of getting him to take down his TTK so he could bite a hickey or five into his neck. Maybe six. He could probably do six. 

Or seven. 

“Northeast towards Broad Street,” Tim says as he tips his head in the appropriate direction, then pulls up the camera again and snaps a quick shot of Kon’s smug smirk, which immediately breaks into a surprised laugh as the other flushes again. 

He takes a picture of that too. 

“You flirtin’ again already, man?” Kon asks with a sheepish little laugh, like the bastard has any room to talk. 

“The position’s pretty good for it, that’s all,” Tim says with a level of casualness he absolutely does not feel. Kon flushes darker and bites his lip again, still just barely grinning. Tim, ethically, has no choice but to take a few more pictures. 

“Oh my god,” Kon says, laughing again and unfolding the arm he has tucked behind his head to hide his eyes behind instead. Tim is maybe a little bit too aware of the line of his throat under the neck of his shirt, without his eyes and the sparkle there to be distracting him into a useless stupid mushbrained might-as-well-be-a-civilian, observationally-speaking. “I’m not a building, you absolute nerd!” 

“I said I liked people-watching too, didn’t I?” Tim points out reasonably, though mostly his brain’s occupied with the question of–“Hey. If you let down your TTK a bit, could a baseline-DNA human give you a hickey? Like, is that physically possible, or are you too Kryptonian for that?” 

“Oh my god,” Kon repeats, laughing harder even as the flush on his face spreads down his neck. Tim wonders how warm that might feel under his mouth. “I, uh–dunno, man. Maybe?” 

Tim silently resolves himself to finding literally any excuse to conduct that experiment and moves a hand to cup the side of Kon’s throat, eyeing it consideringly. Kon makes a slightly weird noise and visibly swallows, and Tim belatedly realizes that he’s paid literally no attention whatsoever to whether or not they’re about to hit a building or a flagpole or a roof this entire flight; he just assumed Kon had it handled. The Bat-paranoia kicks in and he glances up reflexively, and just as reflexively slides the pad of his thumb across Kon’s pulse. Their flight path is clear; they’re high enough to avoid most of the buildings in this area. Definitely still gonna need to keep an eye out for radio towers and billboards, but . . . 

Kon swallows again, the gesture a little bit rough this time. Tim feels the other’s throat flex against his palm. That sure is . . . that sure is a thing that Tim feels right there. That invulnerable throat flexing right there against his palm, and maybe not necessarily having to be invulnerable, if Kon didn’t want it to be. 

. . . . . . he already said he didn’t have time to learn anything new about himself tonight, dammit.

[tlouadditc]

to the brim ... <3

dom!abby x fem!sub!reader

!! not my pic !!

warnings: fluff + smut [MDNI and MEN DNI.] modern!au / no apocalypse, established relationship, softdom!abby [?], i couldnt think of good gifts dont mind it, abby is a gamer confirmed bc i said so, breeding [duh], abby has a breeding strap, filthy talk omg :(( ah!! i think thats it

a/n: ever since i read @seattlesellie's ellie breeding fic... i've been a changed woman. so here's my take on abby! p.s.: no desc. of hair, skin color, size, etc. :) this is also kinda long but enjoy my loves!

you and abby had been together for around 3 long, happy years. the happiest years, you could say. it was weird; you never thought you'd end up like this. never.. imagined being happy with someone, especially someone as outgoing and brave as abby. you were complete opposites, you being more introverted and kept to yourself while abby was loud and proud. even the way she asked you out [buying you your favorite flowers, making you dinner, AND two cute little matching rings] was memorable and creative. you've always loved everything about her.

today, in present time, is your anniversary. every year, you attempt to top the last year. always remembering little details and bookmarking whatever she sent you just for this moment. abby's currently at her office job; "busiest day of the year, but i'll be back in time for dinner," she explained earlier that morning. "promise!" you take this as an opportunity to buy her gifts and plan out a romantic dinner for the night.

lately, she's been wanting these lego flower sets [specifically the orchid ones since they reminded her of you.. :,)], so you quickly bought one. that isn't enough, you think, so you also get custom lego keychains of both of you, making them both wear wedding dresses and smile as bright as the sun. while you're at it, you get her favorite cake, chocolate with strawberry sprinkles, and have "happy 3rd anniversary, my love" on the top. you smile as you reach your apartment, already visualizing her surprised face. i'll get her this year, you think as you step inside.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

hours later, you hear a slight knock knock knock on the door. perfect timing, you think, quickly fixing your hair and looking over your outfit. you're wearing a black maxi dress, tight-fitting over your curves, but simple in style. it's kinda casual, but abby insisted on staying home. "it's for my surprise," she argued, a smirk forming on her face as she said it. she always had some quick trick up her sleeve, but you're even quicker.

well. most of the time.

you peek in the peephole, and there she is. she's wearing her glasses today [her bluelight ones you bought for her your last anniversary since she always complained about her headaches], dressed in all black and her hair flowing down her shoulders. her hands hold onto the handle of a medium sized, deep red giftbag. she probably feels your eyes on her, because flashes a pearly smile up to the small opening. no matter how much she smiles, you never get tired of it. you quickly unlock the door and open it widely.

her pale skin turns a slight dusty shade of pink as she looks you up in down, lovingly taking in your beauty. her mouth opens to say something, but all that comes out is a soft, "hi, baby," before she pulls you into a tight hug, exhaling as she wraps her toned arms around you. she feels like.. like something familiar, but nothing you've ever felt before. something comforting. like home.

she pulls back, placing her hands on either cheek. her eyes move back and forth from one eye to another, almost as if she's trying to read your mind, hear your thoughts. "missed you so much, bun." she leans in, giving you two small pecks on the lips before pulling you into one last hug.

"missed you more abs," you murmur, "more than you'd ever know."

she pulls back, smiling as you mirror her expression. after a couple of seconds, she finally looks around the apartment. "babe?" she questions, clearly in shock. there's big, red heart balloons and her favorite candles are lit all around. she's completely enveloped in the candlelit room, gasping when she looks down and sees rose petals scattered beautifully on the wooden floor. you see her eyes lock onto two red, nicely wrapped gifts on the coffee table. "oh. my god," she looks from the living room back to you, astonished. "no, you didn't."

"oh, yes i did," you giggle as you close and lock the front door. she walks carefully over the fresh rose petals into the living room. she sits on the couch, looking up at you with doe eyes. "babe, if this is what i think it is..." she pauses and exhales. all you can do is smile; your excitement cannot be contained. "open them up!" you cheer, sitting down in the armchair beside the sofa.

she picks up the smaller box, cautiously shaking it. she was always great at guessing your gifts. but this time, she furrows her brows in confusion. she shakes it once more, a little harder this time, deep thought written across her sharp face. the scrunch in her nose makes you laugh a bit. "is it.." she starts, but cuts herself off. "i don't know.. actually."

you shrug, "then open it, babe." she sighs before accepting defeat and opening the small package. as soon as she gets the paper off, she gasps and looks up at you. "oh my god!" she exclaims. "wait, are these-" she looks back at the package, back at you, and holds it up to your face. "oh my god! it's us!"

you smile and laugh while she gushes over the fact they look exactly like you two. "how did they get my hair perfect? and the little dresses! i mean, look at it, oh my god." she admires them silently for a few seconds before uttering, "this is gonna be us, bun. i promise."

the uncontrollable urge to smile takes over your face, making your cheeks hurt a bit. she's muttering a thousand "thank you"s before opening the next one; the one you're the most excited about. she's been talking about this since last year, but she never had the time to get it or start it, matter of fact.

she tears the paper once again, immediately stopping in her tracks. her eyes move up to you once again and her jaw goes slack. "oh my FUCKING god," she yells, ripping the rest of the paper off. it's almost like she's a child again; the way her face lights up makes your entire day worth while. she proceeds to nerd out over the set once again, "this is so... oh my goodness i can't even explain how excited i am. thank you so much babe... wow.. i got so lucky..."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

you made her favorite dinner that night, having it freshly prepared for her and still warm on the stove. she just rambles about how she's the luckiest woman in the world to have a beautiful girlfriend and how much she loves you. she continues this throughout the entire meal, making sure she can treat you with the same treatment whenever she can; wiping your cheek when anything got on your face, getting you whatever you needed with no questions asked.. anything. basically, your everyday treatment with her.

after dinner, you both sit on the sofa, talking about your days. mid-conversation, abby randomly gasps.

"and then he was li- uhm... abby?"

"oh my god. i almost forgot!"

"what? what's the matter?"

"your gift!!"

she practically jumps out of her seat, striding over to the counter where she left the giftbag. "can't believe i forgot my gift for my special girl." she scoffs at herself and sits while handing you the bag. it's not heavy, but it's also not lightweight. you scan through your memories of things you've mentioned to her: cats, a wedding ring, books... but it didn't seem like any of that stuff was in here.

you give up, opening the top and looking inside. your jaw drops. you see a long, light pink box. there's fancy gold lettering across the front that you can't read. you take the box out, and unwrap the ribbon bow from around it. as you lift the top up, you see plush flowers and.. a small hello kitty stuffed animal in between the flowers. you squeal as you put the bag down and hug abby tightly, muttering thankyouthankyouthankyou!! all she does is smile and whisper "of course, princess." you think that's it before you realize there's a small pink card and a even smaller box inside the bag.

confused, you pick up the card and analyze the cover. it's a baby princess themed card; such an abby thing to do. you glance over at her to crack a smile, but you realize she has on that devilish smirk plastered across her face. uh oh, you think. "why're you smiling like that, babe?"

"like what?" her smirk grows wider.

that's even more 'abby' like than the card.

you roll your eyes jokingly before deciding to open the card up. inside, there's a paragraph written:

"dear y/n,

happy 3rd anniversary, my love! i'm so glad you're in my life, even after all this time. you'll always be special to me and i see that we will grow old together. i know you've been wanting that bouquet for a while, but i noticed you've been obsessed with something more.."

you glance up at abby once again. she's watching your reaction with that same smirk. what is she up to? you continue to read:

"i hope you noticed the cover of the card; of course, you're my princess, and you always will be. but i always see you looking at baby clothes when we're out, gushing over baby videos at home, etc etc. and even though we technically can't make one.. i can still give you the experience. ;) love your [nonofficial] wife, abby"

you feel your face heat up as you close the card. abby's large, warm hand suddenly starts stroking your leg through the dress, jolting you back to reality. she chuckles, whispering, "mm, you want that, right? you want me to knock you up?" she's getting closer, her hot breath hitting your neck, making you shudder. "want me to fill you to the brim, baby? hm?"

she's kissing your neck, small pecks turning into full-on hickeys. she loves the way you whimper and squirm, the way you turn your head to give her more access. "i'll take that as a yes," she breathes, a small laugh leaving her mouth. her hand travels from your leg, up to your neck and chin, making you turn and kiss her.

"so pretty like this," she coos in between kisses. she's lost in your big eyes, your noises; lost in you. she toys with the thin straps of your dress, subtly signaling to take it off. you, of course, rush to peel it off. after you do so, you're almost completely naked while she's completely clothed. the drastic difference makes you feel small under her predatory gaze. she taps her thigh twice and demands, "come here, princess."

you straddle her lap, your clothed cunt slightly gaining friction against her pants, making you whimper. "such pretty noises," she murmurs, mostly to herself. her hands rest nicely on your sides, right above your hips. "so, tell me," she starts. "how you wanna do this, mama?"

the new nickname makes you feel a slight heartbeat in between your legs. "oh, you liked that, huh?" she comments, smirking as she looks up at your pretty little face. "well, if you want me to take control, i'll do it. i'll do whatever you want, mama."

"use me," you blurt out, desperately needing her right at that moment. you move your hips back and forth, grinding against her crotch to relieve the ache in between your thighs. abby lets out a breathy laugh, "oh, you want it that bad? god, you're so cute."

before you can respond, she's wrapping her arm around your waist and standing up. you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck out of instinct. she's walking you to the bedroom, just like her little princess.

when she gets into the room, she lays you on your back, legs behind held back by her large hands pinning them under your armpits. your breath is shaky, heartbeat practically bulging out of your chest. she leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck alllll the way down to your bellybutton. "f-fuck, abby," you shudder, her face getting closer and closer to your heat. "what's wrong?" she asks, "what you need, baby?"

"need you inside," you beg, not caring how pathetic you sound now. "oh, i know, baby," she coos, "but i wanna make this special for you, okay? no rushing. just us."

you appreciate her genuine care with your intimate experiences with her, but at this point, the ache was growing more and more painful as time went on. you whine, moving one of the hands pinning your leg to your cunt. "please, abs. need it."

"fuck, babe," her voice is low and husky, almost a growl. "okay, okay, i got you, mkay? i'll treat you right, promise."

her pointer finger ghosts over your swollen clit, forcing a small moan out. small little circles stimulate your bud, drenching your already soaked panties. she groans, "always so wet f'me, my god." as if she can't take it anymore, she practically rips off the small cloth off your aching pussy. the cold air meeting the warmth of your core makes you gasp, squeezing your thighs together in response.

abby's warmth comes back and divorces your legs apart, pinning them back to where they were originally. "gonna take such good care of you, mama," she mutters, kissing your inner thighs. after what feels like an eternity of teasing, she finally lays small, short kitten licks on your cunt. the small feeling of her warm muscle against your clit relieves the burning ache in your core, but only for a second. she lays a flat tongue, collecting your slick as she moves up. your small "oh"s egg her on, fueling her ego as she spreads your lips apart and latches onto your bud. your moans grow louder and louder, legs slightly trembling from how good it felt. little did you know, she's getting off on your pretty little reactions; she's moaning against your bud, vibrations making your legs shake even more.

"ffffuck-," you cry out, gripping the sheets from pleasure. the vibrations send you over the edge, the familiar tingly feeling in your abdomen unraveling. "m'cumming- oh my god," you wail, attempting to close your legs to get away from abby's tongue. her hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart once again. she continues to suck on your clit, overstimulating you. "t-too much - fuck!"

your juices and her saliva mix, coating the bottom of her chin. she finally unlatches from your sensitive, swollen bud and wipes her chin. "sorry, bun," she says, heavily breathing, "you just taste so goddamn sweet, i had to!"

as abby starts to walk away [you assume it's to help you clean up so you guys can sleep], you slowly drift away into a deep sleep..

"nuh uh, 'm not done with you, mama."

your eyes force open, eyes immediately landing on abby's bare chest. she was almost never topless around you - except when you two showered together - but it wasn't a norm in the house. you unintentionally whisper, "you're so beautiful," causing a wide smile to go across abby's kind face. "thank you, baby," she replied, "c'mere." she patted the edge of the bed. her usual black strap was buckled on, intimidating you from the end of the bed.

you crawl to the edge, sitting on your feet when you reach abby. she giggles, "get on your back, babe. you know the drill." you follow her orders, slightly chuckling at your mistake. as she lines herself up with your slit, she caresses your face, just telling you how much she loves you; "love you so much, bun. i'm so lucky to have you, y'know that, right?" she peppers small pecks along your face in between, smiling at your perfect face.

"'m gonna go all in, okay? jus' let me know when i can move," she warns. you nod, slightly nervous. the strap seemed bigger than usual; a bit wider too. it made you think she'd rip you apart with this thing! but as she bottomed out, the sharp painful sensation was short lived and replaced with a more pleasant sensation, the feeling of being full. and not just full, but full of her.

you start to slightly grind on her cock, trying to get any pleasure. the desperate motion making abby smirk and slam into you again, this time earning a loud, pathetic yelp from you. she continues to slam into you, holding your hips for leverage. "yea, keep makin' those pretty sounds for me," she groans, almost in an animalistic way. all you can do is tell her how good you feel, hands gripping onto her toned biceps.

she brings a hand down, right over your abdomen, pressing slightly. "you feel me right there, yea?" there's a slight bulge where her strap is; the sight makes you drool slightly. you nod feverishly, focusing on her voice and her dick pounding into you. her hips snap back and forth, squishing sounds filling the dimly lit room.

she, on the other hand, is hyper-focused on watching the black silicone disappear inside your gushing cunt, a vague white ring forming around the base of her cock. the sight alone has her pussydrunk and practically forming a pool in between her thighs. "such a messy fucking cunt," she murmurs. "wish i could fucking - shit - fill that little pussy up."

your moans become louder, your grip tightening on the meat of her muscles. your head goes back, putting the hickeys she gave you on full display. "oh, you fucking like that, huh?" she places both hands on either side of your head, still fucking you at a relentless pace. every thrust she does, her tits bounce slightly in front of you. her hair frames her face perfectly, the sweat beads racing down her skin as she pounds into you.

"holy fuck," you whimper. her cock, buried deep inside your greedy little cunt, hits that spongy spot inside of you, making you go insane. she smirks, she knows what she's doing. "what? speak up, princess," she speaks, a mocking tone laced in her words.

"s-so good," a choked moan cuts you short.

"you like the way 'm fucking you? like the way that dick got you going crazy, huh?"

a string of yesyesyes's is all you can get out, too lost in your own pleasure.

"wan' me to fuck my baby into you?" she's out of breath, start to whimper, but she doesn't slow down or stop. she just keeps. on. pounding. she's chasing her orgasm, clit bumping against the base of the strap. you're just a wailing, helpless mess under her, begging for her to cum into you. "i need it, p-please, abs!"

she moans loudly as her thrusts get sloppier, slowing down slightly. you feel a thick liquid unleash into your hole, filling you up. the new feeling causing you to gasp, looking down at where you two met. abby fully pulls out after a few seconds, when a gush of white liquid slowly drips out of your stuffed cunt. she whispers, "fuck, that's a pretty sight to see." using one hand, she spreads you open, your fucked-out hole on display, just for her.

you're still trying to steady your breathing, getting more tired by the second. abby sits on the bed next to you, pulling you into her lap. she caresses your face once again, "did so good f'me, baby. happy anniversary." she kisses your forehead, cuddling you close to her body. before you fully fall asleep, she picks you up, bridal style.

"wh- what are you doing?" you question, half asleep.

"gotta clean you up, babe." she giggles at your sleepy voice.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

after a long, warm bubble bath together and a small cleaning session, you and abby finally lay back on the couch to watch a movie and cuddle.

"y'know what, babe?" she asks, shoveling chocolate cake into her mouth.

"what?"

"i wish i could actually get you pregnant."

you slightly giggle at that, "me too."

"i also want to marry you. really badly." she's looking at your face now, reading into your soul.

"we should get married," you speak, thoughtfully. what's the point of her bringing this u-

she gets up unexpectedly, walking over to your giftbag. confused, you ask, "what's up?" she pulls out that small box you saw earlier. "oh, nothing.." she walks in front of you, then dips down onto one knee.

you gasp. is this really happening? right here right now?? someone pinch me.

"y/n, you've made me the happiest woman on earth for the past 3 years we've been together. not to mention the first 4 of us being friends. now, i'm not gonna give a long, sappy speech during this amazing moment," she slightly chuckles, "but i want to ask you.. will you be my wife?" she opens the box, a shiny ring glistening in the light.

you can't see it that well since tears well up in your eyes. you could've never asked for anyone better than abby. she's made you a better person overall. she's been there for you, even in your darkest times. you nod, wiping your tears.

she's slightly chuckling, which you don't realize until your eyes clear. it's.. a minecraft ring. specifically a minecraft rose on a thick band of gold. you laugh and let her slide it on your ring finger.

"i'm sorry," she's still giggling as she gets up from the floor, "i saw this while i was out and i was like 'this is perfect.'" you're also giggling, "it is perfect. thank you, baby."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

a/n: abby's such a jokester! anyway hope u guys enjoyed this took forever!

taglist: @unicycl @xnoviee @aouiaa @akenosimp167 @njplatesruler [if you're striked out, i can't tag u!! :(]

[toxicanonymity]

My dearest toxic, I would simply do anything for a NW blurb. On top of the election I'm having one of the worst weeks I've had in awhile tbh. I saw you were doing blurbs/requests and figured I would throw my hat into the ring 🙃 as always, you're the best and deserve all the love and accolades 🖤

tired

JOEL x READER | 1k | NIGHT WALKS AU

NOTES: I’m so sorry for your week, bestie. Ty for your kind words. I hope he can help some of y'all a little bit. Love you 🖤 Y'all don't have to know Night Walks, but if you care about the timeline: After Menace, before Late Night Dip.

WARNINGS: 18+ blog. Unspecified source of angst, crying, comfort, soft but it also gets a little horny.

When you got home, your throat was sore from trying not to cry. You put on your PJs, went outside, and unscrewed the floodlight to be in the dark. Seated on a cheap plastic chair, you looked at the joint and lighter in your hand and didn’t even have the energy. You set them down, bent forward, and buried your face in your hands. Warm tears coated your fingers. Your throat untied itself, your chest opened up, and, physically at least, you felt some relief.

Then a light turned on in an upstairs window. Worried that you were louder than you realized, you got up to take a walk so you wouldn’t have to talk about it.

The thing was, you didn’t really have the energy to walk either. You shuffled along, until you got to the pool. It was as good a place as any to stop. The frogs and crickets made it a comfortable silence. You stood outside the fence with your forearms resting on top of it, doubled over.

By the time a twig snapped behind you, you must have been ugly crying.

Your skin prickled until his smooth, deep voice sliced through the tension. “Wanna talk about it?”

When you didn’t answer, you heard and felt him come closer. Joel was like a furnace, and the heat reached you without contact. When you didn’t answer him, he joined you against the fence, both of you looking toward the pool. His hand was resting a few inches away from your elbow.

“Hmm?” He prodded.

You shook your head, sniffled, and dabbed your eyes. “You wouldn’t get it,” you told him.

“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But I still got ears.”

“I’m okay,” you lied.

He answered, “Don’t have to be,” then laid his big, warm hand on your back and it brought a crescendo of emotion. Grief, gratefulness for him, and guilt for selling him short. He was more than a sleaze, he just didn’t tend to show it.

He rubbed your back as you took ragged breaths and tried to stop, then he got closer.

“It’s not just–it’s everything,” you sniffled. “It’s a lot.”

He kept rubbing slow circles on your back for a minute. Then, with a lighter tone, he offered,

“Who do I gotta fight?”

“You don’t seem like the fighting type,” you replied, then finally looked at him.

“I can be,” he cocked an eyebrow, and faced you with one hand still on your back. Your eyes settled on his strong pecs and biceps stretching his tee. And yeah, he could’ve been a fighter for all you knew. He could for sure fuck someone up. The small tattoos you saw in the shower crossed your mind. Then your thoughts drifted to the rest of him.

“I’ll be anything ya want, pumpkin,” he murmured as he got behind you and moved his hand to your hip. He thumbed the waistband of your bottoms and chuckled. You were dressed alike.

He nosed your hair and inhaled deeply as he wrapped his arms around you. You kept your arms resting on the pool fence, but your body relaxed into his embrace. He held you, with his feet bracketing yours. For the first time all week, you felt safe on some level. And not so alone.

It was the first time he’d hugged you like this. Holding you without a hard-on poking you, and–yeah, nope–there it was.

Not raging, but it twitched and made itself known.

He dipped his head and murmured into your neck, “Let’s go have a beer, watch a movie or somethin’," and his hips pushed forward, making you throb. But at the same time, you tensed at an assumption that he had expectations all along.

“Yeah, I know,” he acknowledged, without backing away. “Too damn hot, pumpkin. I just wanna hold ya, now I got two things in the way.”

“Two things?”

“That fine ass and this cock.”

You had been enjoying the softer side of him, but the harder side sure did make you tingle.

“I just wanna rest,” you answered.

“We'll just rest, then,” he replied. “We can just sleep if ya want. Can’t promise I'll behave in the *mornin’*, but…”

“Feels good out here,” you said.

“Alright pumpkin,” he agreed. “We’ll stay here a while.” Then he asked with light-hearted skepticism, “Feel good against this fence?”

His arms relaxed around you, then fell away.

You felt cold as he stepped aside, but he took your hand and gently pulled you to the pool gate. He reached his free hand over and unlocked it. The metal creaked as he pushed it open.

“C’mon,” he led you in, all the way to the edge of the pool. He dropped your hand to roll up his pj pants, then while he was down there, he rolled yours up, too. You both slipped of your sandals. “Sometimes I just look at the water….all lit up. Speakin’ of,” he reached in his pocket and showed you a joint.

“Not now,” you answered, and he tucked it behind his ear as he sat down on the edge.

You sat down an inch or two away from him, and he scooted over to close the gap. He placed his hand on the back of your head and you leaned into him. He put his arm around you. “Ya know pumpkin… it’s gonna be okay.” Your throat tightened again. He continued, ”There’s been times I thought it wouldn’t. But it always got better.”

You both watched the light patterns dance in the water, and he added, “Might’a taken time, but it did.”

“I dunno,” you sniffled.

He rubbed your arm and said, “Well, you’re not alone, anyway.”

And you couldn't help but laugh, “yeah I've noticed.”

--------

--------

Thank you for reading 💙🫂

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Golden Girl

Chapter 1

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Mature. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: What happens when you discover your husband has been cheating on you? You call his best friend to help comfort you. Warnings: Dieter's POV, infidelity, heartbreak, some allusions to smutty thoughts but nothing extreme, pining, fluff, comfort, drug and alcohol mentions, Dieter's down bad for his best friend's wife. Words: 2,900

A/N: This was written for @punkshort's anniversary AU challenge. I received husband's best friend Dieter Bravo. I've been in the Dieter den lately, so of course I had a lot of fun writing this soft, pining side of him. The film featured in this fic, The Philadelphia Story, is one of my favorite movies ever, and I wanted to use it in this. Mike, Dex, and Tracy are all characters in the movie. FYI… the movie is free on Tubi. :)

Next Chapter

Masterlist

___

He can't do this. He absolutely cannot do this. 

“Dieter, I– can you just come over? I don’t want to be alone.” 

He has to do this. He absolutely has to do this.

Your voice is so defeated, bereft, empty. It pains him to even think of the despair you feel inside.

How fucking dare he. Fucking Warren. He wonders why he feels like he owes him his friendship, his time, his loyalty. Fuck that. Breaking your heart, leaving your bright light dim after taking everything from you. He’s sat idly by for years numbing the pain of watching his closest friend pilfer you, the girl of his dreams. 

Eight years of marriage gone in a blink of an eye just so Warren can fuck and supposedly fall in love with his brand new leggy blonde coworker. Warren’s always been good at taking what he wants. Hell, he took you away from him. Yeah, Dieter may have an Oscar… but he doesn’t have the girl. 

He drives to your house, the same home you used to share with your husband. He wishes he could trade in his mega mansion and live with you in the two story colonial made warm and inviting only under your touch. Warren liked to remind you he paid for it all, but what use is money when there’s no heart?

He locks his car and inhales a deep breath before taking the walkway to the side entrance, the one only close friends use. The fresh fragrance of the peonies that you planted all over the yard makes his heart ache even more for you as he opens the door. 

The house is quiet, save for the sound of your sniffles, a singular lamp casts the living room in a solemn umber tone. 

“Sweets?” He can’t help it, he’s called you that since the first night he met you in that Venice dive bar all those years ago. He was infatuated with you from the first time he saw you, smiling and laughing with your friends, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He introduced himself, you shouted your name back, grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor. He kissed you when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. God, your lips tasted like sugar from those damn overly sweet drinks. 

Your head surfaces from the couch, the sight of you wounds him… red rimmed eyes, tear streaked face, and puffy lips. You look like hell and yet you’re more beautiful than any gorgeous actress he’s acted alongside. 

He joins you on the couch, gathering your blanket covered form in his arms trying to calm your shaking sobs with a kiss against the top of your head. He rocks you like a baby, shushing you and holding you tight. His big brown eyes blink back tears, tamping down the guilt he feels over how much he loves holding you. 

He’s never been good at these situations, he’s a great actor and can cry on command, but when it comes to consoling and emotions, he’s always easily overwhelmed. His mind races, too terrified to do wrong by you; all he can think of is your favorite movie. He grabs the remote, navigating the menu to play the film. He might forget where he puts his keys or what he has for breakfast but he always remembers everything about you. Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant battle for Katherine Hepburn’s heart. Ouch. He wishes he would have fought harder for you all those years ago.

You cuddle into his arms closer, sniffling out a soft “thank you” when the movie begins.

Tracy breaks Dex’s golf club. He hopes you’ll do the same to Warren’s once you summon the strength. 

Dieter also loves this movie, the both of you first connected over your shared love of classic cinema. You wanted to act, Warren put an end to that… he didn’t want to ‘share you’ with the world. He’s so tired of Warren’s bullshit, he’s so fucking pissed off, all of those wasted years you could have been happy alone… or with him. 

He’s so angry he could kill Warren. He reminds himself now’s not the time for vexation, settling deeper against the soft cushions, cradling and softly assuring he’s here for you. Dex walks back into Tracy’s life on the screen; he prays Warren won’t be able to do the same. He calms his anger at Warren by pretending he’s here watching a movie with his favorite girl, ignoring the reality that he’s holding your shattered heart and body, picking up the mess that his so-called “good guy” best friend made. He’ll take Warren’s mess any day.

Your bleary eyes focus on the black and white film playing on the TV. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and moves to pull his hand away. A tiny “no, stay” whimpers out of your mouth, his fingers remain. He doesn’t stop gently rubbing your soft skin through the whole movie. 

Mike professes his feelings to Tracy. “No, you're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy. Full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You've got tears in your eyes.”

He feels the quote in his bones, in his heart, in every single drug and drink he’s taken trying to get you out of his head. You’re golden, Warren has left you rusted. 

It’s always been you. His marriage to Anika, he stood at the altar dreaming of you walking through that Las Vegas chapel doorway. The dissolution of those vows arriving soon after, he signed his name on the divorce papers while giddily anticipating your arrival to soothe him. His fuckboy ways he’s now so famous for, he always thinks about touching your body and hearing your moans whenever he enters whatever pretty person opens their legs for him. 

The credits roll. You sit up and stretch while he mourns the loss of your body against his.

“Do you need anything?” He asks, adjusting the blanket on your shoulders. 

“No,” you croak out, “I– thank you for coming over. I think this is it Dee, I can’t do this again. What did I do wrong?” Your head buries into your hands, a new batch of tears begin falling.

“No, no, no, baby, no,” he grabs your arms, wrapping his hands over yours and squeezing. “You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all. Warren– he’s,” he sighs, “I don’t even recognize the friend I once knew.” 

Your solemn nod and downcast eyes almost causes his heart to break and fall on the ground next to yours. 

“Sweets, he’s a fucking idiot,” he tries to stop his words from coming out, but he loses the fight. Blame it on too many years of standing to the side and watching Warren slowly take away everything you loved brick by brick. “You a–you are brilliant, funny, beautiful, caring, y-you deserve the world.”

“You just have to say that…” your voice is so small, so infantile. 

“I don’t,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from divulging more. “Trust me Sweets, I–I don’t.”

He dreams of the moment he’ll be able to tell you how he feels, how he’s always felt, how hard it’s been to watch his closest friend snuff out the light of the girl of his dreams, how he’ll never forgive himself for standing idly by while escaping in a haze of drugs and alcohol. Easy vices he found that could never mend his envious heart. 

He changes the subject, distracts you, and mostly himself, from letting his true feelings out. “Did you want to watch another movie?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I really want a bath. I feel so dry, my eyes are burning.”

He tucks down the thoughts of you in a bathtub, on normal days he’d send himself down a spiral thinking of you naked, rubbing soap across your body, humming a contented sigh and stretching out your relaxed limbs. 

“I’ll go get it ready for you,” he says, rising off the couch and heading towards the stairs.

“C-could you do it in the guest room? I-I don’t want to be in… our room alone,” your voice cracks with embarrassment.  

He turns back to you, his head falls at your request and the look of shame across your face. He strides over and kneels in front of you, gathering your hands in his and holding them tight. “Whatever you need Sweets,” he stares into your eyes, “whatever you need.”

A small smile lifts the side of your mouth, his heart thumps against his chest at the realization he made you happy. “Thank you Dee, you’re the best.”

He nods before standing up and heading for the guest room upstairs. 

Each step he takes the more his sense of duty to help and improve your terrible day blooms inside of him. He walks into the guest room, the same room he stays in when he parties too much, usually because alcohol helps him numb the want for you he holds inside. He flicks the bathroom light on, admiring everything you designed, this house is your house, he’s going to fight like hell to make sure you keep it. 

He turns the tap on making sure the water is hot enough for you before placing a towel on the stool next to the tub. He wonders where you always get the fluffiest towels from, just another layer of your softness and care for the things around you. A bottle of bath oil lays on the tub edge, he picks it up and smells the sweet scent of almond and honey before pouring a bit into the warm water. 

He turns around when he hears you walk into the bathroom. A shy smile is on your face, you’re still so beautiful even when you look utterly devastated. 

“I think it’s warm enough for you,” he says, swishing his hand in the bathwater. “Do you want the jets?”

“I’ll take care of it Dee, thanks,” you begin unbuttoning your pajama top, revealing your light pink bra. You’re so comfortable in front of him, if only you knew the way he thinks about you. Dieter swallows, and with the heaviest most unreluctant body moves around you to the doorway. He’d do anything to watch this, but not tonight. You’re too vulnerable, he can’t take advantage of his dream. 

“Just let me know if you need anything,” he offers before shutting the door, hating that he knows it’s best to be a better man.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, a guilty smirk develops when he realizes it’s the same bed he’d touch himself on whenever he’d overhear your moans as Warren took the body Dieter always craved. He plays with the gold ring in his ear, he wonders if Warren’s still wearing his wedding ring.

His head perks when he hears the sound of your feet dipping into the tub, your body settling into the water, and the sigh you let out as you relax into the warm bath. He fights the lust coursing through his body, you’re naked and only ten feet away from him. 

Distract, distract, distract, he thinks to himself reaching for the remote and turning the TV on to a rerun of South Park; he turns the volume down, he just can’t fathom drowning out the sounds of your bath, he likes hearing the whoosh of water as you move. 

“Dee,” you shout from the bathroom, “I–can you get me my robe from my room? It’s hanging up behind the bathroom door.” 

“Of course,” he steadfastly gets up, “I’ll be right back.” 

The last time he was in your room was when you and Warren purchased the house, he still remembers the jealousy he felt that day; watching Warren kiss his pretty wife in his brand new picturesque house complete with the shiny white picket fence. Norman fucking Rockwell could never paint a more perfect picture of suburban paradise. 

He looks at the bed with the pretty floral quilt laid atop it… you’re probably so warm and soft to sleep next to. There’s a frame on your bedside table holding a photo of you and Warren laughing on some grand vacation he probably took you on to get back in your good graces. He wonders what it would be like to feel your head against his chest, to have you so close he could feel your laughter vibrate against him. You have all sorts of lotions and tchotchkes on your table, quite a contrast from the clean table top on Warren’s side. He can almost hear his friend’s voice complaining about all of your clutter. 

He finds your robe and brings the soft downy fabric to his nose inhaling the scent of you, this must be what an angel smells like. So sweet.

He takes one last glance at your bed and imagines seeing you asleep under the covers, leaving you in your peaceful slumber every morning and going downstairs to make you coffee. He gets lost in his fantasy while walking back to the guest room, ignoring the photos of you and Warren that hang on the walls.

He taps against the bathroom door and holds out your robe, the thought crosses his mind yet again that you’re behind the ornate white piece of wood fully naked. You crack open the door, peeking your head out, your hair is wet, he tries to shush his brain thinking about how wet the rest of your body must be. You look better, more fresh faced; a sense of pride settles inside of him that he’s helped you tonight.

“Thank you Dee,” you smile and grab the robe before closing the door. 

He settles on the bed, stretching out on the mattress and resting his back against the headboard. Nervousness rears its head for what comes next. He knows he’s going to see you soon, your relaxed body will be wrapped in your soft robe… he has to be good and resist any sort of desire. He hasn’t been good at saying no to temptation, but you’re so much more special than a joint, a drink, or a pill. 

The bathroom door opens, there you are, freshly bathed and beautiful, your legs peek out from under the fleece fabric.

He swallows when you climb on the bed and sit next to him. Your legs are smooth and shiny from your bath, his mouth waters at the sight.

“He hated cartoons,” you whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

“I like cartoons,” you say, picking at a loose piece of fleece on your robe.

“I know. Cartoons are the best,” he doesn’t know how else to respond.

Your heart might be fractured right now, but the comfortable silence that’s shared between the two of you makes his heart race as the four kids from South Park get caught in hi-jinks. You chuckle as Butters gets adopted by Paris Hilton. He loves your laugh, hearing it tonight means even more to him. 

You scoot closer to him, he tries to calm his rapid heartbeat and breathing when you place your head on his chest. You smell of that saccharine bath oil he poured, he tamps down the thoughts of how it’d taste on your skin. 

“Dieter,” your head angles up to look at him, “c-can you sleep here with me?”

“Of course baby,” stop calling her baby, “a-anything you need.” 

“I’m just… I-I’m so tired and I don’t want to–”

“You don’t have to say a thing,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You yawn a “thank you,” as your eyes flutter shut against his chest. 

Fucking Warren, you’re a goddamn idiot rushes through his head. He would give everything up to feel this every night. The Oscar, the mansion, the designer clothes, the luxury cars, gone in a blink of an eye if he could feel this sensation over and over again. To protect you, to console you, to love you… He lays wide awake next to you, his arm stays wrapped around your beautiful sleeping form all night. 

He can’t imagine what the next few days, weeks, and months will be like for you, all he can do right now is hold you in this guest bedroom bed and vow to stand by your side once you wake. He wishes he would have intervened earlier, saved you from ever feeling this way, of ever thinking you weren’t worth the world. 

Soft snores escape your slightly ajar mouth, you look so peaceful and beautiful. He’s dreamt of being able to wake up to this sight every morning ever since that first night in the bar, when he should have been the one to take you home… not Warren. 

Next Chapter

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language. mingyu is jealous but doesn't know it. fake dating; roommates; childhood f2l. wc: 902

love triangle au requests

read part 1 first

[who's this guy who's everything I'm not? 2] There's a universe out there where Kim Mingyu is able to understand himself perfectly, knows exactly what he wants, and figures it all out right on time instead of when it's already too late.

But that universe isn't this one.

No, in this world, Mingyu blinks like an idiot when you go, "This is Jihoon. I've probably mentioned him before." He blinks and he straightens up and in his mind, he's kicking himself because of course he knows who this guy is.

He wishes he didn't, but yeah, he knows about your friend Jihoon.

Jihoon is the guy who wrote you a handmade valentine in eighth grade, well after most of the boys decided that kind of stuff was gross. (Although you're certain he has no idea you know it was him.) This, you told Mingyu with a smile on your face as you walked him out of his company's Valentine's Day Ritz. You recounted that sweet little childhood friendship story with your arm looped through Mingyu's while he smiled and nodded and chuckled, but mostly he kept glancing at the shiny rings on both of your fingers. They're simple bands, his a little more worn since he takes it to work every day, yours exactly the condition it was when he surprised you with it. "You're in too deep, Mingyu," you'd said through a hypnotic laugh when he went down on one knee in the kitchen you share -- before agreeing to go along with his ruse anyway.

Your ring stays pristine because when you're not playing his better half, it lives in this little ceramic dish in the cubbyhole near the front door. You love that little dish -- it stole your heart when you spotted it and its black cat pattern at the local art market you went to together. Mingyu might like it too, seeing how he smiles at it (or maybe the ring) every time he leaves or comes home.

Which could mean anything.

This guy in front of him bristled at Mingyu's proclamation of "husband," metaphorical hackles raised, like a... black cat.

Fuck.

"Haha, uhm, anyways..." Mingyu had put his hand out instinctively, but when the guy doesn't reciprocate, it's fine. He didn't want to shake your friend Jihoon's hand, really. "Did you want to come in?"

Your touch on Jihoon's arm becomes preemptively supportive, like the guy could keel over at any moment, and for unknown reasons, Mingyu wants to be the one who's gone pale. To be the one you're touching while your friend Jihoon watches on from the sidelines.

Which could mean anything.

Because your friend Jihoon is only the guy walking into his home -- your home, yours and Mingyu's home, the home where his and your wedding/non-wedding bands live in a cute little dish in the cubbyhole near the front door. He's only the guy who had a weird depressive/ghosting episode the last time you were in a completely fake relationship to save some guy's ass. You told Mingyu this with your brows furrowed and a cute, confused pout on your lips as you wondered why your old friend was acting that way back then, right after you agreed to come to Mingyu's high school reunion with that ring on your finger.

Of course, Mingyu would normally never ask you to join him for an event outside of his company -- and you actually only agreed to pop in for a few minutes -- but one of his coworkers happens to be in a relationship with someone from his graduating class, and word got around and...well. He just likes when you're with him.

Which could mean anything.

Internally, when you told that one story about "my friend Jihoon" (one of many, many anecdotes), Mingyu was sure he knew exactly why the guy went oddly quiet after you started "dating" someone he wasn't, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked what food from the reunion you'd want him to save for you when you show up.

Now, Mingyu doesn't have the luxury of brushing off some friend from your past who may or may not have absolutely definitely no-doubt-about-it had a thing for you. He can't just blow past it because that childhood friend is standing in his kitchen, eyes locked with yours over the huge glass of water he's chugging because you asked him to.

And you're laughing, endeared and with a sparkle in your eyes that Mingyu isn't sure if he's ever seen before.

You pat your friend Jihoon's head. A silent, good job, which Mingyu can't help watching.

He thought that was his and your thing.

The habit must've come from when you were younger...

Mingyu stands there, off to the side and feeling out of place in his own home.

My old friend Jihoon hates this stuff, but I'm obsessed with it. Jihoon, my friend from my hometown, once said I made the best belgian waffles, so you can trust me with the iron, I swear. You don't drink? My friend Jihoon doesn't either -- but not because he's sober or anything -- he's just got a major sweet tooth.

Oh, this is Jihoon's favourite song.

You go to the fridge to find something for your friend to eat, and while your back is turned, Jihoon looks over at Mingyu.

It's like an x-ray. Somehow, Jihoon's eyes land on him, and he feels bared to the world.

Mingyu knows Jihoon is in love with you. Could tell as soon as he saw him.

But, he realizes as your friend furrows his brow and looks at him with thinly veiled jealousy...

...Jihoon knows Mingyu is in love with you, too.

[127rkives]

</3 hotline bling || j. jaehyun </3

about? jaehyun misses her, but she’s on to bigger better things. (world’s worst synopsis but it’s the best i got bro) warnings? angst!!! fwb? non idol au. fem reader. mentions of sex, alcohol use, drug use (weed). i think that's all. wc? 1.7k notes? another old repost👹

you used to call me on my cellphone late-night when you need my love

************************************************ 3 months, 1 week, and 4 days. that’s how long it had been since jaehyun last saw you. but, hey, who's counting? if he had been, he would have succumbed to that void feeling in his chest by now. the one created by you but ultimately worsened by his own actions. his own actions ruined the best thing he ever had. but it was your fault too, right? 

if you didn't have such an illuminating smile, such a feather-light yet addicting touch, such an effervescent personality, such a radiant aura, then he the both of you wouldn't be in this situation. no. if you hadn't wanted something more and jaehyun hadn't been too scared of ruining a good thing even though he knew you deserved more—deserved better. he knew you deserved the world and the stars along with it, but he was so afraid he couldn't give it to you. so he cowered behind his thoughts; he dismissed the relationship you had, shutting you out in the process. 

thankfully, you had a mind of your own. you knew better than to remain where you weren't wanted. you knew your worth. that's probably why jaehyun had that constant ache in his chest, that pang in his heart. the void. 

he was expecting you to dismiss the fact that he couldn't come to terms with himself you and continue with the late-night phone calls. sneaking out of the apartment at 1 and 2 in the morning—when he thought everyone was asleep—to spend hours at your place. half naked smoke sessions with deeply thought out conversations lingering in the air with every puff. or hot nights in your room that always seemed to end with clothes scattered here and there, fluffy comforter somehow still clinging to a corner of the bed, and the sheets tangled around only you because he was never there when you woke up. ’he had better, more important things to do.’ you would convince yourself. but when you finally stopped gaslighting yourself with that excuse, you realized he couldn't face his own music.

************************************************ ever since i left the city, yougot a reputation for yourself noweverybody knows and i feel left outgirl, you got me down, you got me stressed out'cause ever since i left the city, youstarted wearing less and goin' out moreglasses of champagne out on the dance floorhangin' with some girls i've never seen before

************************************************ guilt. jealousy. anger. sadness. utter outrage. one of these emotions—possibly even a mixture—was grasping at jaehyun's heart and yanking at the strings right now. even so, he couldn’t stop rewatching the clip on his phone in front of him. it wasn’t like he meant to find you. he just happened to be scrolling through the explore page on instagram and much to his sudden disbelief you were the thumbnail on some video. against his better judgment (of course) he clicks the video, watching you hold a cup of God-knows-what in the air as your body hazily sways in a sea of people inside of what looks to be a club. jaehyun’s face is still one of shock as the girl recording yells something cringey about all of her friends being ‘badies’ and ‘hot girls’ and continues to survey each of her friends, including you, while everyone gets more excited with the new song’s change of pace.

it could’ve been all in his head but that video seemed way longer than the allotted one minute. jaehyun doesn’t know how many times he watches the video before he decides to click on the girl’s profile (a bad decision on behalf of his 2 functioning brain cells). his thumbs seemed to move on their own as he scrolled down her page and searched through countless posts of herself, her with her family, and her with her friends. jaehyun couldn’t pry his eyes from the screen as he clicked on a picture with you in it, hoping you would be tagged. you were, of course, so he clicked. another mistake on his part.

your username and bio were both different. even though jaehyun hadn’t visited your profile in a while, he did remember the main details of it. jaehyun repeated his earlier actions and examined your page this time. there were posts of yourself. you and your dog. you and your family. you and this new group of friends he had never seen until now. you and some man? you and this man hugging, holding hands, kissing, traveling, eating out together? you and jaehyun used to tell each other about everything, and you had certainly never mentioned him before. you people aren’t supposed to move on this fast. hell, jaehyun hadn’t even moved on. he still listened to the playlist you two had created together. he still dreamed about you. he still woke up with the lingering touches of you on his body as if you had been beside him moments before. he still had late-night venting sessions with taeyong as he sniffled and wiped his teary face after genuinely expressing what he was never able to tell you face-to-face.

but, here you were. you had completely evolved from the person jaehyun knew almost 6 months ago. you weren’t the same girl who posted simple photos of herself in cute, comfortable outfits captioned with inspirational quotes, or wholesome reviews of the new greek mythology book you had bought at your favorite, cozy bookstore. this was some girl who had grown to almost a 80,000 followers in just 6 months. this was some girl who posted pointless photos of her newest hermes purse; some girl whose wardrobe would alternate between burberry pantsuits and louboutin heels, to nike tracksuits and air force ones, to what could very well be some bundle of strings fashion nova tries to pass off as a dress. this new girl—this new you—was copacetic, thriving, and glowing. you were happy with this seemingly very outgoing group of people who the old you would’ve never thought about fraternizing with. worst of all, the new you appeared to be enjoying life with some guy that wasn’t jaehyun. jaehyun’s a complete mess without you laying next to him at 2 in the morning and you were supposed to be the same. he was supposed to have the same crippling effect on you as you did on him. 

apparently, jaehyun had been sitting in his whirlwind of thoughts long enough for his phone to lock. he pulled himself out of his trance and made his only decent decision of the day. he went to find taeyong, knowing he would still be awake and available to examine whatever emotional baggage jaehyun had this time. he told taeyong about his earlier revelations (leaving out the part about your apparent love interest). “why don’t you just talk to her? tell her how you actually feel.” weren't the words he expected to hear. he didn't know what to expect, honestly. 

as jaehyun laid in his bed he picked up his phone with shaky hands. when he unlocked it, he felt another tug at his heartstrings, forgetting that his phone had locked on a gorgeous post of your beaming smile while he was in a daze earlier. the time on his phone read 1:46 A.M. he didn't want to call you. you might not pick up. but he wanted an immediate response. jaehyun needed validation right now. he silently prayed that your number hadn't changed along with everything else during your productive time away from him. he opened his messages and clicked on your name; ’y/n💛’. jaehyun smiled to himself as he looked at the last messages sent between the two of you. you had been sending memes back and forth, with the last message before the hiatus being three emojis expressing your laughter. 

jaehyun pondered for a few moments on what to type. ’yo y/n it's me.’ ’hey it's me, jaehyun.’ ’hey y/n we haven't talked in a while.’ he wasted a good twenty minutes overthinking, typing, and erasing potential conversation starters. then he just decided to pour out what was left of his heart. fuck it.

he didn't expect you to reply quickly, but he wanted you to, so jaehyun kept his phone unlocked and open to your messages as he waited. he had peeked two minutes after hitting send, but he didn't notice it then. jaehyun let five more anxious minutes pass before checking again. he almost didn't notice it that time, but somehow he managed to spot it.

the small subscript under his message. ’read’

jaehyun didn't know if it was him being delirious with fatigue or the actual fact of you acknowledging but ignoring him, but his breathing got short and shaky and his tears started to roll. it was finally happening. that void feeling in his chest—in his heart—that place where special memories of you were kept, had finally drawn him in and suffocated him with the realization that you didn't want him anymore, didn’t need him anymore. you no longer needed jaehyun to bring you the pleasures of life. for all he knows now, you never really did.

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

this work is property of me, 127rkives! no copying, reposting, translating, etc.!

[poisonous-honey]

Hello...

Lately is a shitty time for me on miHoyo's games. I lost both my 50/50s both to Genshin impact and Honkai star rail. On Genshin, i got QiQi by pulling Xianyun and Gepard by pulling Black Swan. Now i'm broke and my moral is at its lowest.

I'd love some headcanons (or a scenario) about SAGAU(and SAHSRAU if you can) hearing the reader yell and cry of frustration about this. Like: "I'M DONE I'M SO FUCKING DONE!! CAN I JUST HAVE THE ONLY THING I'VE WANTED FOR WORKING AND WAITING THAT HARD!!?? FUCK ALL OF YOU I HATE MY LIFE!!!!"

Sorry. I just wanted to let it out...

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Diluc, Jean, Mona, Keqing, Tighnari, Astral Express crew, and Gepard

Contains: SAGAU and SAHSR (Not Cult AU)

Note: Hey, hey! I'm sorry this happened to you. I also lost her to Qiqi and had to spend everything else I had to try again, 50/50s suck. Their banners aren’t gone yet though so I hope you end up getting both of them soon! (ノ_<。)ヾ(´ ▽ ` )

💛💛💛💛

It was an accident, it always is with them.

The six of them that are considered standard 5 stars never mean to ruin your chances. They care for you and your happiness, they also want you to continue to play their game. Even though they'd love to be the ones going on adventures with you, both to spend time with you and for their own benefit (Tighnari would love to study other nations' fauna, Diluc could gain new ideas for drinks etc.), they know forcing themselves into your party would never work. You'd just grow to hate them, which is the opposite of what they want.

They're jealous of other 5 stars. Sure they can join you technically whenever they want, unlike the others that have to deal with limited timed windows, but that also guarantees you want them. All they can do is break that or hope they're the lucky one chosen on Wanderlust Invocation. Not only do they have to share a space with each other, but they're also going against weapons, which none of them are remotely happy with.

It's when these emotions are at an all-time high, they're jealousy and longing, the stars will glow gold and tug on their heart.

Diluc is always at his desk when he accidentally takes it. Stewing over boring paperwork his mind will wander from time to time, eventually landing on thoughts of you. He'll find himself missing you and desiring your attention, not realizing you've started a wishing session until it's too late, and he hears you cursing the world. He feels incredibly guilty, and it only grows worse when the wind clatters against his windows. Tries to make it up to you with materials and mora. You’ll find your mail flooded with talent books, adventurers EXP, a ton of mora, and the sincerest apology he could write.

Jean would be trying to sleep. She doesn't have time to think about you during her job, so it’s when she’s on the brink of passing out she’ll start to think of you. The thought of travelling with you sounded like the best break she could get. Eventually she’ll fall asleep and dream about you, only to be suddenly woken up by your screaming. She panics and seeks advice from any and all of her friends on how to make it up to you. Ends up acting similar to Diluc, working herself to the bone to get you talent and weapon materials. She’ll pair them with a few dandelions before sending them to you.

Mona is thinking about food. During a time she forgets to set aside enough mora for a decent meal, she’ll find herself thinking about the delicacies you’re able to provide. Even if it involved fighting, it was a free source of marvellous food. Her mouth waters as she thinks about all the dishes you’ve made, only to be abruptly pulled from her thoughts when a star bumps into her and flies off. She sighs when she hears you start cussing up a storm. Knowing your current state, depressed and full of ire, is because of her, she’ll attempt to make it up to you in a way few others could. She manipulates the fates of the stars so you’re bound to get your next gold star early. A simple method she feels guarantees to make you happy and hopefully take the heat off of herself. It wasn’t simple she wishes you could praise her for it

Keqing would be reminiscing her interactions with you during lantern rite. Whenever she sees the traveller in the distance, but is too busy to stop and talk, that’s where her mind will wander when she finally gets a moment of rest. It’s at this moment of respite she’ll long to see you and the traveller again and when she’ll notice the sky turn gold. She feels incredibly bad when she hears you cry, but she doesn’t have much time to meaningfully apologize to you. The best she can do is write a letter to both you and the character she stole the spotlight from saying she’s sorry. She’ll definitely send you some Golden Shrimp Balls when she next has some for herself.

Tighnari, in a similar boat to Jean and Keqing, would be too preoccupied to miss you on a normal day. It’s when he’s out with his friends and slightly inebriated he mentions missing you. Alhaitham starts to mention how that’s a dangerous line of thought for him to have when Tighnari’s chest starts to glow gold. Everyone winces when you soon start shouting and Tighnari slams his face into the table. He’d end up gathering bunches of every flower in Sumeru and send them to you with a picture of him, Collei and Karkata. 

For Qiqi it's a little different. She can't remember the last time you've gone adventuring with her. Half the time she's too preoccupied to even remember she's already on your team. When a star falls and asks if she wants to go, she doesn't have time to check her notebook before she says yes, the star becoming hers and landing on your screen. 

Your rage and disappointment is always made evident fast, which always has Qiqi turning to Baizhu.

“Did I… Do something wrong?”

Baizhu sighs and kneels next to her, “You made a mistake, but it's alright. Come, why don't we look for an apology gift?”

The next day you open up the mail to see one from Qiqi. Attached to it are all the herbs she collected with Baizhu, her specialty dish No Tomorrow, and an acquaint fate.

Sorry… Qiqi doesn't remember what Qiqi did, but Qiqi knows Qiqi is sorry.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

Upon finishing the most recent event, you had teleported to the train suddenly before they noticed your presence leaving them. They couldn’t tell if you were in a menu or had left your computer entirely. After a while with nothing happening on your end everyone aboard the Astral Express quickly settled in, expecting to be here for a while longer. March was in her room organizing her photos, Dan Heng was going through the archives, and Himeko was making coffee while Stella and Welt were entertaining the guests. Gepard and Serval had come to visit the train that day. Pom Pom had wandered off earlier somewhere in the train and everything was relatively peaceful… Until they heard you start screaming.

March, Dan Heng, and Himeko all rushed into the Parlour car while the four already there were looking at each other in a bit of shock. It’s when they start making out what you’re saying and see Pom Pom rush back into the Parlour car did they realize you had started warping. A session which obviously didn’t go as planned.

They don't like hearing you angry or sad, so they try to come up with a plan, something - anything that will cheer you up without seeming too suspicious. All of them are in the middle of discussing when they also hear you mumble out a very quick and aggressive “Fuck Gepard.”

Everyone turns to him and his face goes red.

Plans are immediately put on hold as Stella whips out her baseball bat and attempts to smash his skull in. Welt tries to step in to stop her, Himeko and Dan Heng stand-off to the side (one more disappointed than the other), March cheers Stella on and Serval ignores her brother's plea for help.

They do eventually get around to cobbling up a multitude of jades for you to at least try again, but not before Stella nearly gave Gepard a concussion. He separately sends you an extremely long apology letter paired with a choice item to allow you to pick a 5 starlight cone of your choosing. Some of the others berate him for being so obvious, but he doesn't care as long as you're happy again.