#Thank you for sending the prompt!! 💕

[mapplestrudel]

... frog doodle? :D

!!!

FROG DOODLE!!!

This is Nepomuk, and he's enjoying a warm starry summer night ^_^

[shoshiwrites]

No I will definitely not regret the Coca cola i just had, what are you talking about

[risustravelogue]

you and your f/o(s) have landed under the mistletoe! who's making the first move? 💚❤️

no pressure in answering, and please take your time! <3

I'm feeling better today and this sparked my writing brain (imagine FIREWORKS)... thanks rin 💕

Let's see... I think they would make the first move, because I wouldn't realize that we're under the mistletoe. HAHAHA /smacked

I think Alhaitham would just grab my waist and dip in to kiss me without a word once he realizes that we're under the mistletoe. Man doesn't waste any time :> (after that, I would smack him for kissing me shamelessly in the middle of the room)

Meanwhile, Wriothesley would be more teasing about it, asking for kisses by pointing to his cheek and lips... in the middle of the room. I'd think he was just being shameless because when is he not and give him chaste pecks.

In both scenarios, they'd point up after the kiss and say with a triumphant smirk, "Great. Now you're mine forever."

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: First kiss with this Yoongi (have fun with that), one sexist remark from your dummy bestie, baby mama shows up, cliffhanger

Word count: 5.3k

Posting date: November 19, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Icymi, we did a poll and results show y’all wanted to break this into two parts so we shall have a part 3. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Ever since that dinner when you inadvertently confessed about your age-old attraction to him and assured him that any residual feelings are buried in a metaphorical time capsule, Yoongi seems to have made it his personal mission to rizz you up on purpose.

Haneul’s been especially rambunctious all day. Mealtime is no exception. Yoongi volunteers to feed him, thinking he can rein in some of the pent-up energy. At some point, Haneul squeezes his pouch of organic muesli and carrot puree with so much enthusiasm that it explodes everywhere, sending bright orange flecks across Yoongi’s face and pristine white tee.

“GAHHH!” Yoongi yelps, staring down at the mess, while Haneul absolutely loses it, tiny belly-shaking laughter filling the room.

“Silly, silly sarang,” you coo, using the pet name you’d started calling Haneul lately. It’s adorable how he beams every time he hears it, flashing you that gummy grin like he knows he’s your favorite troublemaker. You laugh too, as you wipe a splatter of puree from Haneul’s cheek with the muslin cloth you were holding.

“Do I have something on my face, too?” Yoongi leans towards you expectantly with the barest of smirks.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, flipping the cloth to a clean side and wiping off the smudge on his cheeks and his chin, and that pesky little morsel on the side of his lip.

For some reason, you seem to need a blast of oxygen straight to your lungs. Stat.

With a lick of his lips, Yoongi nods his thanks. “Gotta change,” he mumbles, lifting the shirt away from his chest with a grimace and walks towards the hallway to his room.

And you almost regret your decision to look back, almost.

Because, oh wow, he’s taking his shirt off. Yep. Fuckin’ dammit. The shirt is off.

Christ.

His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his hair. The infamous “7” tattoo on his shoulder is taunting you. You are unable to pull your eyes away, already knowing you’re doomed.

Then, before he mercifully disappears into his room, he glances over his shoulder and catches you staring. Shit. Your heart plummets straight to your ass. He smirks, U-turns towards you shirtless and utterly shameless.

Your nerves short-circuit as he reaches out, just barely brushing your thigh to pick up his phone from the mat. His eyes hold yours, a dark glint of mischief in them, “You good?”

“Huh?” The brain fog is crazy. You will yourself to keep your eyes above his chest, but of course you gone did it.

Why are his nipples so cute? And damn is that a happy trail?

He snickers softly, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. “I’ll be back. Han’s eating the remote by the way.”

And with that, he saunters off, leaving you there, a blushing, flustered mess as you find Haneul gnawing on the remote control.

You pull it quickly from his grasp, muttering under your breath, “Sarang, why are you and your appa being such a menace?”

He babbles happily at you, as if he knows he’s not the only troublemaker with a gummy grin in this house that got you wrapped around their finger.

The next time you’re at the Min’s, Yoongi is clearly in a rush, checking his phone and mumbling to himself as he zips up his jacket. “Just text me if you need anything, okay?” he calls over his shoulder, already half out the door.

“Got it,” you reply, bending to set your shoes on the rack. You glance down, expecting to see your usual house slippers—but something else catches your eye.

It’s a… capybara? Big, fluffy, and incredibly cozy-looking slippers, with soft little ears and embroidered eyes, just waiting for you. They’re exactly your size. They’re yours, right? It’s in your usual spot. Beside it… another pair. Same goofy capybara face, but larger. Did Yoongi get a pair for himself, too?

You slip them on, feeling their warmth, their plushness, and a little shiver of wonder and disbelief spreads through you. Yoongi thought of this—thought of you. The butterflies in your stomach are in a frenzy now, and you can’t help but smile, giddy and a little stunned. 

The door swings open. “I forgot my—” Yoongi stops mid-sentence.

You’re standing there, wiggling your toes inside the ridiculous capybara slippers, and when you look up, you catch the slight flush creeping across his cheeks. There’s something so unmistakably soft about his expression and it makes your heart do a strange little flip.

“Please tell me they’re mine,” you jut your bottom lip out, a hopefulness you can’t quite hide.

Yoongi steps inside just enough to grab his keys from the table, shrugs, “Who else would they be for?”

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You’re left standing there, the capybara slippers snug around your feet, Yoongi’s words replaying in your mind. Your heart flutters as you stare down at them, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this small, thoughtful gesture means as much to him as it does to you.

Since then, you start noticing the small ways Yoongi shows his care. Each time he heads out, he leaves little comforts behind—an extra pillow for you on the couch, a plate of fruit on the coffee table, a cup of Silver Moon tea he prepared for you.

More and more, you start to extend your day to night that Yoongi almost expects you now to stay for dinner or join him for Haneul’s nighttime rituals.

Haneul’s bedtime stories have become a team effort—one night you’re reading, the next it’s Yoongi, who’s surprisingly great with voice acting and sound effects. (You should have known!) When Haneul finally drifts off, Yoongi always waits a moment, exchanging a small, tired smile with you as if to say, We did it.

And before you know it, that age-old crush that you said was buried in a metaphorical time capsule? Yoongi just dug it right back up.

One evening, as you rock Haneul to sleep in your arms, Yoongi comes in quietly, setting down a couple of takeout boxes and two cans of Coke on the coffee table. The baby’s small breaths are warm against your shoulder, his eyelids fluttering as he settles into sleep. You gently lay him down in his crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before joining Yoongi on the couch. 

“Hungry?” Yoongi asks, sliding a takeout box in your direction. He’s not looking directly at you, focused instead on peeling back the lid of his own food.

“Starving,” you admit, smiling as you pick up your chopsticks. “Thank you.”

The quiet clinks of chopsticks and soft laughter fill the room as you both dig in. Conversation with Yoongi has started to come easier lately, and tonight, it flows so naturally you barely notice the time passing. 

“So, what got you into teaching?” he asks, glancing over at you between bites. “You seem good at it. Really good, actually. Haneul has so many party tricks now.”

You pause, laughing a little to mask the warmth in your cheeks. “I just love kids. I enjoy their energy, even if it’s chaotic.” You glance down. “I’ve always wanted my own. Just… hasn’t quite worked out that way yet.”

He nods, not pressing you, just letting you continue.

“I was in a long-term relationship, but things ended because he wasn’t looking for that kind of future,” you say quietly. “I really wanted a family, kids, but he didn’t. He didn’t even believe in marriage. So, it ended, and I guess that’s why I left and went back home.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Must have been so difficult for you.”

You nod, swallowing down the ache that lingers. “Yeah. I think part of me is still working through it, honestly. I hope you don’t think this is weird. But being here, with Han…” you sigh. “I don’t know, it’s helping. Even if he’s not quite mine.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting to his hands, fingers tracing the rim of his soda can. “It’s not weird. Look, you’ve helped us a lot, too. Having you here has made things feel… lighter. Happier.”

The words send a flutter through you, a feeling that scares you as much as it comforts you. Because this feels too domestic. A taste of that life you’ve always longed for. With Jiyong, for years. But now, it’s only Yoongi’s face you see in your mind’s eye. Yoongi and Haneul. You then realize how badly you want this, but you’re afraid of wanting it–afraid of what it might mean to get attached to someone like Yoongi.

“I appreciate that.” You reply. “How have you been adjusting to life as a single dad?” 

Yoongi glances over at you, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t expect that it would be this rewarding,” he says, his voice soft, but it trails off. “But… it’s lonely sometimes.” He pauses, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of his sleeve. “Not just the parenting stuff, but the other parts. Like when Haneul does something for the first time—takes a step, says a new word—and I just… look around.”

He shrugs, his lips twitching into a small, self-conscious smile. “And it hits me that there’s no one there to share it with. No one to laugh with, to say like, ‘Hey, did you see that?’”

He laughs quietly, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. Maybe that sounds selfish. But it’s the truth.”

You shake your head. “It’s not. I think we all want someone to share our life with. It’s not wrong to want that.”

He looks over at you, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. “I guess… it’s easier to admit that with you here. It’s funny because in some ways, you’ve been that person for me, for us.”

The words hang between you and the silence stretches, buzzing with a feeling you can’t quite name. You’re painfully aware of every detail—the curve of his lips, the way his hand rests on his lap, the tenderness in his eyes. You know there’s something there, simmering, and you wonder if he can feel it too.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Thanks for being here tonight. Really.”

You smile back, heart racing. “Thank you for trusting me. I know… this isn’t easy for you.”

As you sit there, side by side in your matching capybara slippers, the feeling of wanting more, of something real and lasting, settles into your chest. It’s a feeling you thought you’d put on the backburner, but here, with Yoongi, it’s igniting again.

You find yourself chilling at Namjoon’s apartment, days after that dinner, sprawled across his couch with a plate of instant jjajangmyeon balanced precariously on your lap. Some indie album is playing in the background, and you’re too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even notice Namjoon observing you between bites.

“I’m screwed,” you say suddenly, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Namjoon doesn’t even look affected. “What now?”

“It’s your fault, you big oaf.”

“K stop being cryptic,” he says, motioning for you to explain. “What did I do this time?”

You drop your chopsticks with an exasperated sigh. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm… What about hyung?”

You hesitate, pressing your lips together before blurting out, “I think… I think I like him… again.”

For a moment, Namjoon just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then he has the audacity to laugh, nearly choking on his noodles as he leans back against the cushions.

“You’re so predictable,” he says between chuckles, shaking his head. “God I knew this was coming.”

You narrow your eyes at him, offended. “What do you mean you knew this was coming?”

“I mean, come on,” he says, gesturing at you with his chopsticks. “You’ve been spending all this time at his place, basically co-parenting Haneul with him. You’re acting like this is some big revelation when it’s been written all over your face.”

You stare at him. “Wow. Are you done?”

Namjoon smirks, tossing his empty takeout box onto the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Let’s unpack this,” he says, mock-serious. “You like him again. Fine. Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because, dude, it’s Yoongi. What if he’s not actually feeling it, which won’t be the first time? And! I still don't know why he suddenly has a son.”

“You have to ask him that.” Namjoon sets his drink down, his expression sobering slightly. “But answer this—Are you over Jiyong?”

The mention of your ex makes your stomach twist, but you nod, sighing. “Yeah. I’m over him. I’ve come to terms with it. He wasn’t the one for me.”

“Damn right, he wasn’t,” Namjoon mutters, shaking his head. “That guy was an asshole. I never liked him, you know.”

“I know,” you say, laughing softly. “You made it pretty obvious.”

“Good,” he replies firmly. “Because you deserve better. Way better.”

You glance at him, your heart warming a little. “Thanks, Joon.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, leaning back against the couch. “We’re not done talking about hyung.”

You groan again, flopping back against the cushions. “This is so pathetic.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon says, his voice softening. “It’s cute. Gross, but cute. And honestly, if hyung’s finally starting to let someone in, I’d rather it be you than some rando.”

You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “You’re really still shipping us after all these years?”

“Of course,” he says, nudging your knee with his. “You’re good for each other. I’ve known this all along.”

A pause settles as you finish your meal and Namjoon, his drink.

Then, he shakes his head like he’s just realized something. “So this is why Yoongi hyung has been sneaking in some extra work out time in between rehearsals.”

“He’s been walking around his house shirtless. Well, it’s his house, so…” you shrug, pretending you dgaf when really you’ve been thwarting mini heart attacks.

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” you warn, pointing your chopsticks at him.

He smiles wide, teeth blackened by the jajangmyeon sauce. “Only if you say yes to a night out.”

You groan, already mourning the loss of a perfectly good night of doom scrolling, as you toss him a paper towel. “Fine. When?”

You arrive at the bar later than planned. It’s some newly opened speak-easy in Gangnam owned by Joon’s friend. As you push the door that looks like a bookcase from outside, a rush of cool air ruffles the skirt you’re wearing. You definitely took a bit of time selecting your outfit and doing your makeup today, and now you feel really good, great even, even though you initially dreaded going out.

As you scan the room, you spot Namjoon in a large circular booth near the back, surrounded by familiar faces. He spots you first, waving you over with that dimpled grin of his. As you approach, you notice that the atmosphere is already loose and lively, evidenced by the various bottles and half-consumed glasses already on the table. 

Jin is leaning back, looking exasperated, and Hobi is covering his mouth as he laughs, his face flushed from the drinks he’s clearly had more than a few of. And there’s a girl beside him, who you vaguely recognize as the same one from when you watched their rehearsals.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Namjoon calls out, standing up to envelop you in a hug.

“The star has arrived,” you jest, doing a flower pose on your face. Hobi rises to give you a hug, then Jin follows suit. 

“This is Yunjin,” Hobi introduces the redhead beside him. “My lovely wife.”

Yunjin has the same megawatt smile to match Hobi’s. “Glad to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too!” you say back as you hug.

“You clean up nice,” your best friend comments as you all settle back inside the booth. “When you’re not acting like a hermit in your condo.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes, surreptitiously scanning the vicinity. “Who else is coming?” you hope you’re not painfully obvious on who you were wishing would be there.

“Just us,” Joon side eyes you, before adding. “Yoongi-hyung just stepped away for a second.”

“Ah.” 

As if on cue, Yoongi steps into view.

And goddamn. Your brain corrupts for a moment, and you swear you hear soft K-drama OST music in the background.

He runs a hand through his hair as he surveys the room as if he has some invisible wind machine following him. He’s wearing a black blazer that fits perfectly over a simple white tank. There’s a flash of silver at his waist from his belt that hugs his light-wash jeans. A small pop of pink on his neck somehow softens the whole look, a cute touch.

He looks so effortlessly good it’s almost obnoxious. The thing is, you’re pretty sure he knows it. That smirk on his face is very telling.

“Hey, you made it,” he says quietly, sliding into the seat next to you as if he belongs there. He grabs the drink by your elbow to take a sip and you get a whiff of his scent—musky, woody, dangerous.

“Yeah,” you squeak, no clue how you will manage to act normally around him now, but a joke seemed appropriate. “Shit. Nobody said my ‘employer’ was gonna be here. Now I have to be on my best behavior.” You say to the others in a whisper.

“DON’T,” Yoongi groans, shaking his head, lower lip bitten in mock irritation.

The rest laugh at your exchange. Hobi slides a shot of whatever to you, and you take it, grateful.

“You missed a big reveal by the way,” Namjoon says. “Apparently, Jin-hyung has officially sworn off women for all eternity.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha. It’s called having a life outside of getting your dick wet, thank you very much. Not everyone needs to be a simp like you.”

“Who is it this time, Joonie?” You ask, taking a tiny sip from the shot glass.

“Soyeon.” Everyone says in chorus. Even Yoongi says it under his breath.

“Oh, god,” you breathe out. “You’re on again?”

Namjoon sighs, “I know, I know. She’s got me in a chokehold.”

Jin raises his drink. “To Namjoon-ah, the biggest simp we know.”

Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in defeat as everyone clinks glasses.

“…and to Seokjin being forever bitchless.” You add under your breath, exchanging giggles with Yunjin.

“Yah!” Jin shouts from his beer glass and you throw him a wink.

“Speaking of simping,” Hobi says, drawing out the word as he looks pointedly at Yoongi. 

“Hoba.” Yoongi warns. You’re curious now.

“The new songwriters Si-hyuk on-boarded from America. They saw you with Haneul. I heard them calling you a DILF.”

Hobi practically falls apart, laughing so hard he clutches his sides. Jin and Namjoon aren’t far behind, their cackling attracting stares from neighboring tables. Even Yoongi can’t fully suppress his grin, though he tries valiantly to play it off. You laugh along, but you feel your face heating up and you don’t know exactly why.

“So you already have an in,” Jin says, reaching over to give Yoongi a hearty slap on the back. “Even you could use a good distraction once in a while.”

“Hajimaaaa,” Yoongi complains, brushing off Jin’s grasp on his shoulder. “Hoba’s just making shit up.”

“I’m not lying!” Hobi raises his right hand up as if he’s swearing an oath. Then he mock-complains, “Nobody ever calls me a DILF.”

Yunjin elbows him on the stomach and Hobi splutters, as they start bickering playfully.

Then Namjoon turns his sights on you. “Hey y/n, you're a girl,” he starts and immediately, you know he is setting you up for something.

“Keen eye,” you deadpan, placing the shot glass on your lips.

“So,” Namjoon says, dimples deepening as he leans in, gestures to Yoongi, “objectively… is he?”

“Is he what?” you grit, but your eyes are screaming ‘Don’t you dare, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you fucking dare, you piece of shit.’

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, looking every bit the trouble-maker. “A DILF?”

Motherfucker.

You nearly choke on your drink, fighting the urge to strangle your best friend as his grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. 

“You’re an asshole, objectively speaking. And I need a real drink if this is how tonight’s gonna go,” you down the entire shot before moving to slide out of the booth to escape before you’re forced to answer.

Yoongi moves out to give you space and decides, “I’ll go with you.” 

As you head toward the bar together, you feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hand on the small of your back. You chance a quick look back at Namjoon, who’s wearing an absolute shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself, like this has been his master plan all along—more than ten years in the making.

You decide to go to the bar outside. It’s quieter here and you also need the fresh air.

“Sorry about that…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh please, no need to apologize for Namjoon’s dumb behavior.” You wave a hand, as if it’s really no big deal. But your insides are still churning.

“So who’s with Haneul tonight?” You ask as you perch on the bar stool.

“My eomma. She’s going to be staying in town for the next two weeks since it’s Han’s birthday.”

“Wow,” you say, excited. “What’s the plan?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Ah, something small. Just family, maybe a couple of friends. Nothing too big. He won’t even remember it.”

You laugh lightly. “Yeah, but you should be celebrating your first year as a dad, too.”

He smiles faintly at that, nodding. “Maybe. But I’m terrible at planning stuff like this. I was gonna keep it simple—a cake, some balloons, that’s it.”

“Well, if you need help, let me know,” you offer casually, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach flutters at the thought of being part of something so special.

“You sure?”

“100%,” you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. 

“I don’t want to impose, though. You already do so much.”

“You’re not imposing,” you reply firmly. “I want to help. Besides, I’m already halfway to being Han’s favorite person.”

“Halfway?” he repeats, huffing. “You’ve already taken that spot–100%.”

You grin, feeling your cheeks warm. “What can I say? I’m irresistible to one-year-olds.”

Yoongi’s still for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There’s something thoughtful in his expression, before mumbling under his breath, “Maybe not just to one-year-olds.”

Eh?

But before you can say anything, he already gestures to call the bartender to take your drink orders.

You’re glad you went out tonight. It’s been a while since you had spent time with a group that made you feel so welcome. Despite the jovial mood you’re in, your social battery is definitely drained. Yoongi notices and asks if you want a ride home since he also needs to go for father duties. You both say your goodbyes and head to his car in the parking lot.

The drive is quiet but not awkward, the soft music filling the space between you during the quick drive to your apartment. When he pulls up in front of your place, you hesitate for a second, debating whether to invite him in. But then you remember the absolute disaster inside—clothes flung everywhere, shoes scattered, your makeup bag abandoned on the kitchen counter in your rush to get ready. Plus, you don’t even have a couch, so…

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’d invite you in, but, uh… my place looks like a crime scene right now.”

He has a confused look on his face, so you explain, “Tried on half my closet before settling on this.”

His gaze sweeps over your outfit, but not in a way that feels invasive. If anything, he looks appreciative. “Worth it,” he says simply, and your heart does a somersault.

There’s a moment, a pause where you should say goodnight. Get out of the car. But something about the way Yoongi’s eyes are still on you makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, it’s like the air between you feels heavier.

“Stay here,” he says softly, stepping out of the car and walking around to your side. He opens your door, his hand outstretched to help you out, and you take it, letting him guide you onto the sidewalk.

He doesn’t let go of your hand. The short walk up to your apartment feels longer than it should, yet you don’t want it to end.

When you reach your door, you turn to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Well… goodnight, I guess.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment, hand still lightly grasping yours. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Your throat felt dry saying that.

“I umm found Haneul a nanny. Youngbae-hyung recommended this agency they used to find theirs and I’ve signed on someone who’s starting soon.”

You’re a little shocked at the news. This is good though because Yoongi really needs a more reliable and constant solution to their caregiving needs. Despite the heavy feeling that has settled in your chest, you try to lighten the mood with a joke that doesn’t quite land, “Why does this feel like a break-up?”

Yoongi shakes his head, lips curved into a small smirk, as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Not even close.” He releases a sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

The question takes you by surprise, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache, but this time, in the best way. You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. You can.”

He steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm before tilting your chin up gently. The kiss is soft, tentative, like he’s savoring every second. You are, too. It’s just… sweet. Like a first kiss should be. Perfect.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. For a moment, neither of you moves, like you can’t believe what just happened.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut as he confesses, “Is it bad that I want to do that again already?”

“No, ‘cause same…” Your hands reach out, grasping the lapels of his jacket, and you pull him back in.

Yoongi responds instantly, his hands sliding to your waist as he presses you gently against the wall, his warmth and weight upon you dangerously addictive. His tongue brushes yours, soft and slick, that spark of contact so electric that you feel yourself melting further into him. Your arms loop around his neck, bringing him closer, and when his lips part against yours, his teeth catch your bottom lip, sucking on it softly before letting it go. The sensation sends a shiver racing down your spine, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading through the silky strands before one hand slides down to find the belt loop of his jeans. You tug on it, pulling him impossibly closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies.

Yoongi groans against your mouth as your bodies collide, your chest against his, his leg in between your thighs, fitting into each other like tetris pieces. As your nails scratch the tufts of hair by his nape, a rumble, low and rough, escapes his throat, sending another wave of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as your world shifts.

When you finally pull back, your breaths come fast and uneven. His hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, his lips flushed and slightly parted, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder. You feel kind of proud, taking in his sexy, disheveled appearance.

“I really should’ve tidied up my place,” you murmur, your fingers still loosely hooked in his belt loop.

Yoongi blinks, dazed for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. There will be other times.” His fingers brush against your shoulder as he gently hooks the strap of your top that had slipped down, carefully sliding it back into place.

“Other times, huh?” you tease.

He licks his kiss-bitten lip, smirks and says, “Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply as you watch him retreat down the hall.

“I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the elevator, leaving you standing at your doorway, your lips still tingling and your heart on your sleeve.

You close the door, leaning back against it with a sigh.

That same night, you resolve to go to IKEA to finally buy a damn couch and a bedframe. You know, just in case. For those other times.

Yoongi: haneul says he misses you You: Oh, rly? He talks full sentences now? Yoongi: yes? You: I miss him, too. Yoongi: good. see u tomorrow? You: I’m so there, no question Yoongi: good night

Yoongi’s apartment is alive with energy, the living room transformed into a whimsical—but slightly chaotic—mix of cats and capybaras. It’s a theme that feels both playful and oddly fitting, a nod to Haneul’s love for capybaras (which you take full credit for) and Yoongi being a literal cat daddy. Yours, hopefully, but the thing is… it’s been awkward. At least for you.

You spent the morning hanging streamers, tying balloons, and carefully setting up the decorations while Yoongi grumbled about the sheer number of things to assemble.

At some point, Yoongi takes your hand and introduces you to his mom. Just your name—no label, no context, no indication of what you are to him beyond someone who is here, present, and involved. It had been a brief, polite exchange, but you couldn’t help the twinge of awkwardness that followed, even if Yoongi’s hand stayed clasped with yours and he may have dropped a chaste kiss on top of your head before he had to go say hi to other guests. 

Your relationship—or lack thereof—still feels undefined. You haven’t had the talk with Yoongi since that kiss after the night out. You’re in this off, lukewarm state, caught somewhere between the heat of semi-flirty late-night texts and the cold hard truth that he’s been too busy to really sit down and talk. With their comeback just weeks away, his rehearsals have been relentless, and you’ve told yourself not to take it personally. You know how this goes.

But still. Seeing him now, watching him laugh softly at something Namjoon said while adjusting Haneul’s tiny party hat, a knot twists in your stomach. You just don’t know how to properly operate in this space that’s in flux.

You shake the thoughts away, willing yourself to shelf the conversation for later. It’s Haneul’s day, you remind yourself. Whatever questions you have about you and Yoongi can wait.

“Noona, these cupcakes are so good!” Jungkook calls out, holding up one with a cat face on it.

“Thank you, Kook! Can’t take credit for them though. I just got them from a pastry shop near my place.”

“Still, you’ve got good taste,” he says, licking the frosting that makes up the cat’s tail.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Yoongi, closest to the door, moves to answer it. You don’t think much of it until you hear Yoongi’s voice croak. “What are you doing here?”

Curiosity piqued, you glance toward the doorway, and that’s when you see her.

Tall, gorgeous, and impossible to miss. Lee Sung Kyung steps inside, her polished, effortless elegance making her stand out. She barely spares a glance at anyone else, her focus entirely on Yoongi.

Your stomach drops. You have a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon is at your side in an instant, his voice low. “Hey… I think we need to talk.”

“What?” you ask, forcing a smile as you pick up a napkin, pretending to tidy the already-organized table. But your eyes are glued to the scene by the entrance, at Yoongi’s clenched jaw, and Sung Kyung’s outstretched arm.

You feel a little miffed that Namjoon takes you by the elbow, voice insistent as he says, “NOW.”

"Joon," You ask, mustering all your courage, even though you are terrified of the answer. "Who is she?"

"She's Lee Sung Kyung."

Your ears are ringing and you grit your teeth as you respond, "I fucking know her name." You repeat the question, slower, a little angrier. "Who. is. she."

Namjoon hesitates, his jaw tightening before he answers. “She’s Haneul’s mom.”

Part Three >

A/N: dun dun DUN. 🙉 I need y'all in the comments! <3 How are you feeling??? Feedback is super appreciated and helps keep my motivation high ✨

I am so excited to share part 3.

Hope you all are sattt 🪑

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! 💜

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[minisugakoobies]

two am | yjh

Pairing: Jeonghan x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, exes to lovers, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: late night texting, excessive use of the pet name 'baby,' fighting as foreplay, dirty talk, multiple references to reader's pussy, implied/referenced cheating, references to oral sex (reader receiving), slight exhibitionism, riding/grinding, nipple play (licking/biting/sucking), p in v protected sex, Jeonghan is bad for reader but they can't stay away

Word Count: 1.6k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: It's two am and your ex is texting you again.

Text Prompts: Both are in italicized pink font in the story.

A/N: I'm back with another installment in my SVT texts series. This one is dedicated to @minttangerines. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCE!! 🎉🎉 I brought you some toxic Jeonghan, hope you like him. 💜 Thank you for being such an amazing friend, tour guide, driver, and partner in crime. 😘

Soundtrack: 2AM by SZA; Sleazy Bed Track by the Bluetones

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s nearly two in the morning when the warning pops up on your phone:

Cover your phone, explicit material coming your way

You barely have the time to excuse yourself from the table, heading in a panic towards the bathroom, before the next text from your ex arrives.

Jeonghan never includes his full face in his photos. It’s always just that maddening smirk of his, catching your eye first before it’s drawn down to the main focus - thin fingers wrapped around an obscene bulge, a darkened tip poking above the waistband of his boxers. 

You lock yourself in a stall and fire back.

You: You have to stop sending me these photos

Satan: That’s a rude way to say thank you

You: I’m serious, Jeonghan. We’re done

He doesn’t reply. You know better than to think he’s accepted your response. He’s refused to accept it for the last three months. 

Your phone chimes. Another photo. The boxers have been pulled down. You bite your lip, then catch yourself, snarling at your reflection on your screen.

You: I said stop!

Satan: That’s what you say now, but we both know that’s not what you’ll be saying later

You: There won’t be a later

You: Not this time

Satan: Really? You gonna tell me you don’t miss this cock?

Satan: That your pussy’s not already dripping imagining it inside you?

It’s the anger his words stir in you that’s making your pulse pound right now, you tell yourself.

You almost believe it. 

Satan: Come over, baby. Wanna make a mess of you like I did last time

You: Not. Happening.

Satan: You out with your friends again tonight? 

Of course he knows where you are. You’ve been going out with your friends every week since the breakup. Tonight’s the first night in a while that you’re sober, not in the mood to drink. This conversation is making you regret that. 

You: What does it matter if I am?

Satan: It’s almost closing time. Think you can find someone to take home?

Satan: Someone to make you forget about me? About how I fuck you?

Satan: You know no one can make you cum like me

To think his confidence is what once drew you to him. Now it repulses you, almost as much as your thighs suddenly clenching together does. 

You: You’re unreal

Satan: That’s right

You: That’s not a compliment

Satan: I know what you want

You: What I want is for you to fuck off forever

Satan: Baby please. Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this

Satan: You can block me anytime you want. But you don’t

Satan: Why do you think that is?

You could answer him. Argue for a while, like you always do. Like you always did. It was the thing that the two of you did best - second only to fucking. You scroll upthread, looking at the last time you fought, reminding yourself how it ended:

Satan: Don’t tell me what to do

You: Eat me out

Satan: Okay tell me what to do

It’s not in your phone what happened next, but it’s seared into your memory, replaying behind your eyelids - lying on Jeonghan’s bed, legs splayed while he puts his wicked mouth to its best use. 

But you also remember the come down. The anger at your weakness. The shame. Knowing nothing has changed. That he hasn’t changed.  

You keep scrolling back, seeing the same thing over and over, watching the pattern repeat. You could stop it right now - end the conversation, delete him from your phone, and go rejoin your friends. That would be the smart thing to do. 

Satan: It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to admit it

Satan: Just come over and show me

If only you were smart.

“Mmmphm!”

The hem of your shirt makes a terrible gag, doing nothing to keep your volume down. Jeonghan’s head snaps up, gaze torn away from where he was watching himself disappear into you.

“Quiet, baby. Do you want them to hear you?” 

The “them” in question are his roommates, Joshua and Seungcheol, who are both sleeping on the other sides of the walls. Jeonghan would be sleeping in one of those bedrooms, too, if he wasn’t out here fucking you on the couch. Or, rather, sitting back and looking smug while you ride him on the couch. 

He knows you don’t want anyone to hear you, so you don’t bother to answer him, just glare while stuffing more of the already spit-soaked material into your mouth. His roommates would judge you for being here. Just like your friends did earlier, when you told them you were leaving. You said you were tired, but they’ve noticed your pattern too. And they’ve stopped trying to get you to break it, unwilling to expend their energy on such an impossible task. 

That’s fine. You don’t need to drag anyone else down to the bottom with you.

Jeonghan runs his fingertips over the exposed skin of your stomach, chuckling when you shiver. 

“Always so sensitive,” he tuts, shaking his head. 

He cups your breasts with his warm hands, pushing your shirt up further until the chilly night air hits your nipples, then bends his head down enough to lightly graze one with his teeth. You gasp, nearly dropping your impromptu gag, and Jeonghan pauses with his lips near your other tit, looking up at you, saying nothing, but his eyes communicate so clearly what he’s thinking - Be good, baby. 

If your relationship was a song, that was his refrain:

Be good, baby, I have to work late this weekend.

Be good, baby, I’m going out for drinks with some coworkers.

Baby, she’s just a friend. Don’t worry. Be good for me.

Despite everything, a part of you still yearns to be good for him. So you bite down harder. 

Jeonghan hums in approval. His mouth latches onto your other nipple, sucking lewdly, not much quieter than your whining has been. Hypocrite. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your loud as fuck thoughts and focus on the wet warmth of his tongue as it laves over and around your nipple a few times, in broad, messy strokes.

You arch into him, lacing your fingers through his hair to try to hold him in place. But like always, he can’t be tamed, lifting his head to smirk at you. You whimper, and he smiles harder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you to his hungry mouth. You eagerly lean forward as your shirt falls from your jaw. 

Jeonghan’s kisses overwhelm your senses until you’re drowning in him. His tongue glides like honey, thick and slow, melting over yours, and you groan, grinding on him slowly.

This is what you needed. Even after all that went down, all the lies, all the tears, you still crave him, body and soul. If this is the only way that you can have him, this two a.m. interlude, then you’ll take every second you can, ignoring the little voice whispering that you’ll regret them all.

“That’s it, just like that.” Jeonghan looks down again, mesmerized by the smooth roll of your hips. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, hard enough that you know you’ll still feel his touch tomorrow. “Fuck yes, baby, ride it.” 

He guides you up and down his shaft, the wet sounds of your cunt sliding over him embarrassingly loud in the still room, and you let him control the pace, all your concentration on his lips - kissing them, nibbling them, sucking on them one by one. Trying desperately to get your fill of them, of him, because this is it. This is the last time. You swear it. 

Maybe this time, it will stick.

Jeonghan’s thumb rolls over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth. He does it again, and again, and just like that you’re falling apart, body singing electric as he lights up your nervous system with his touch. He keeps thrusting up into you, taking control again as you tremble above him, and you know he’s reaching his crest, the familiar signs too obvious to miss. He drops his head, muttering an endless stream of ‘fuck’s and ‘baby’s in that choked voice of his, and then his hands lock your hips in place, as deep as he can get as he fills the condom he wears.

It’s always intense, this moment, when it comes. The two of you, breathing heavy and spent, clinging to each other as you ride out the waves, like you’re hanging on for dear life. Or maybe that’s just you. Because you know that once the high is gone…

“Knew this pussy missed me.”

…the lows return.

Jeonghan laughs when you push yourself off his chest. He pinches your ass cheek for good measure, and you scowl, scrambling to climb out of his lap as quickly as you can, which is pretty difficult given your loose limbs. 

“Don’t say that.” 

Jeonghan watches with simmering amusement as you dress hastily, fumbling with your bra to the point that you nearly decide to leave it. “But it’s true.” 

“No, it’s not, and besides, it’s fucking gross when you talk like that. Like I’m not a person or something.” 

“Whatever.” He’s already losing interest, reaching for his phone. No need to argue anymore. He got his. 

You can’t get your clothes on fast enough. “Stop sending me photos. Don’t text me again.” 

You might as well be talking to the couch. He hums mechanically, scrolling away. “Lock the door on your way out.”

In the elevator, your finger hovers in its usual spot over the delete button. 

A chime. Jeonghan’s mouth, tongue extending between the peace sign he’s flashing, followed by four words: Sweet dreams, baby. 

You slip your phone back into your pocket as you descend.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[aurorawritestoescape]

ALWAYS AND FOREVER || 1,6k

post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comes home after a hard day on patrol and you comfort him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, ANGST, m/f masturbation, mention of somno, mention of canon typical violence, mention of death. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic.

A/n: written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. color: Joel’s denim shirt. genre: hurt/comfort. prompt: "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Aly, you creative genius, thank you for hosting such a fun event! Also sending you kisses and hugs for the gif in my mb! Love you, baby!♥️ Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic💕

MASTERLIST

*****

Joel stomps through the bedroom door, growling and mumbling obscenities under his breath. He’s tense, every nerve is an open wire, every unexpected sound makes him flinch and grit his teeth. He’s tired, lack of sleep painted his skin gray and his beard is all patchy. He looks like shit.

“What is it, Joel?” You ask sitting on your favorite spot on the bed, the left side, which is closer to the window and to the sun that is a rare sight in autumn here. Joel often laughed at you calling you a cat for your love to lie there, basking in the sunshine or napping. And you loved taking naps so much. When Ellie, Joel and you came to Jackson and settled, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet afternoon sleep.

Sometimes Joel would snuggle up to you, spooning your sleeping body, enveloping you like a big warm cloud. Many times you’d wake up to his lips moaning in your ear and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, your body already vibrating on the verge of climax. You loved it. You loved him and he loved you.

“What is it?” You sing the question, repeating it again. His frustration, annoyance, anger or whatever else that ruined his day is about to spill everywhere, staining every corner of this house, and you need to stop it, defuse the bomb that’s about to explode.

“Nothing,” he drops in your direction, not looking at you and you sigh. He untucks his flannel shirt and strides to the bathroom. He doesn’t wash his hands and face right away. His eyes are boring into his own reflection, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles whiten. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he roars and elbows the mirror, shattering it into pieces.

“You hurt?” You ask quietly, standing in the doorframe, hands clasped shyly in front of you. You’re wearing his denim shirt and panties, nothing else.

His head whips in your direction and there are tears in his beautiful brown eyes, bloodshot from his constant insomnia.

You furrow your brows and step into the little room. He raises his hands, trying to stop you from walking on the glass-littered floor but drops them, seeing your bare feet gracefully step between the remnants of the mirror.

When you’re close you look up into his pained face and put your palm on his elbow, the one he just jammed into the wall. He doesn’t flinch.

“Wash your hands and come to bed. Please,” you ask quietly and reach up kissing his lips.

He does what you’ve asked him. He always did. He trusted you like no one else in this goddamn world. Maybe only Ellie and Tommy.

Joel sits on the bed next to you and you make him lie down, your hands applying light pressure on his tired shoulders.

He exhales feeling the frustration and rage leave his body already, bit by bit. He wants to pull you to him, hug you, kiss you but like a ray of sun you slip away from his fingers. He watches you get up and walk to the window.

His gaze catches the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from under his shirt and he already feels his jeans getting too restrictive for his stiffening cock.

“Pull it out,” you tell him, quiet dominance in your voice, after you turn around and perch your ass on the window sill. He looks at you with defiance at first, always ready to object, but your sweet smile makes his hands dart down to unzip his jeans. You pull down your panties and take them off.

The only thing you have on now is his old denim shirt, worn out and soft, the one you stole from him years ago. You’re unclasping it now, fingers quick and sure and he watches you, palming his throbbing cock through his boxers.

You leave the shirt open and he sees a valley between your breasts and your belly. He catches a glimpse of your pussy and takes a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, Joel,” you ask with a soft and sultry tone, the one that makes his cock twitch every time he hears it. His name on your lips is like a balm for his restless soul and he places it somewhere deep for later to use, to remember.

He finally pulls his boxers down and takes out his semi hard cock. You inhale deeply and give him a little smile.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” you purr, lifting on leg and placing your foot on the window pane, “Relax for me.”

Your pussy is exposed to him now and his hungry gaze latches on your blooming flower while he’s holding his breath.

“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart,” he pleads before spitting into his palm. He wraps it around his girthy cock and starts slowly moving it up and down.

Your hand resting on your inner thigh slides to your center and with two of your fingers you spread your folds to show him your glistening pussy.

“Hnggg,” Joel groans, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock into his own huge fist.

“Wanna taste you, baby,” he rasps, eyes pleading under the bushy eyebrows.

You shake your head lightly, giving him a warm smile and start rubbing your clit. Joel’s watching you and pumping his cock faster, the skin on his hand wet with precum, his moans accompanied by your soft whimpers. Your chest is heaving and the denim shirt opens up, exposing your breasts.

“Make yourself feel good, my love,” his voice is quiet and full of love.

The hand on your pussy gets busy, as you’re plunging your fingers into your crying hole and move them in and out with the rhythm of his cock fucking his tight fist.

The other hand kneads your breasts, tugs on your pebbled nipples.

His hungry gaze desperately darts between your face, tits, belly, pussy. The vision of you, weaved into the golden light from the window behind you, brings tears to his eyes. He wishes he could take a picture, draw you like this, capture this image and store it forever behind his eyelids. Joel grips his cock tighter at the base, delaying his release for a few moments. He’s getting drunk on the sight in front of him, insatiable and already thirsty for more.

Joel is happy to forget about everything for these few minutes, his mind occupied by your fingers being pushed deeper into your sweet cunt, your face twisted with pleasure, back arched and legs trembling. He can hear how wet your pussy is.

Soon a climax takes over you as you freeze for a second before waves of pleasure shake your body making you cry out his name only for his ears,

“Joel!”

He wishes you screamed it coming on his cock and his cum spurted deep inside your pussy instead of all over his belly and hand like his pulsating cock is doing now.

You sniff, eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he smiles, recognizing your telltale sign of a satisfying orgasm.

“C’mere, crybaby,” he whispers with a tired smile, wiping his spilled cum with the hem of his shirt.

You’re next to him in a second, lying on your stomach, arms folded on his broad chest, your chin resting over them.

“My sweet girl.”

His gaze showers you with warmth and adoration, arms itching to hold you, lips - to kiss.

“What happened, Joel?” Your piercing eyes are searching for the answer in his face. He takes a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, trying to quiet the rage, rising from the pits of his stomach again.

“We were on patrol. Me and this new kid. Dumbass! I told him to be careful but the asshole didn’t wait for me… rushed into the house when I specifically told him to wait…Found him on the floor, fighting a clicker. Bastard was lucky I was there on time. Shot the damn thing just before it bit his fucking face off.”

“In that house?” You ask quietly and he nods.

You sigh and climb a little higher on the bed and plant a kiss on his weathered lips. He averts his eyes embarrassed by the smell of whiskey you must have noticed but you smile and cup his scruffy cheek.

“You saved him. I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He closes his eyes, comforted by the softness of your touch, by your praise and he feels his soul healing a little. But the memories flood his mind and a second later his serenity shutters again.

“Yeah, I did. I saved him,” he rasps looking deep into your eyes, “but I didn’t save you.”

A tear slides down his cheek and you kiss it away. You pepper kisses over his eyes, nose, lips and then search for his sad eyes and speak softly,

“You can’t save everyone, Joel.”

“I don’t give a shit about everyone,” he snaps, fire waking up behind his eyes again, “I care about you. And I fucking lost you.”

His eyes are pleading for a miracle, tracing your slightly blurry features, but you can’t make it happen.

“You didn’t lose me, Joel, I’m right here,” you purr against his cheek, before taking his face in your hands. Your love is so strong, Joel can swear he feels their warmth on his skin.

“It’s gonna be ok, Joel. You’re gonna be ok. You have people who love you. Ellie, Tommy. And you have me. Always will.”

Joel nods and wishes he could see you longer but the exhaustion takes over and soon he falls into deep relaxing sleep, lulled and comforted by the ghost of you.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

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[runariya]

Hello ! I'm new on your blog, but already a big fan of your writting, i think you're very creative.

Since you're doing prompt game today, could i get a bird hybrid JK, who is very much trying to court and give his mating feather to the reader, but she is like clueless, because he never really talked to her, only stared and hoped she would get the hint. 🐉🥸🥰

Thanks for your attention, sending love from Brazil (sorry if my writting is bad, english is my second language) 🫶🏻

(fantasy+yandere+fluff) part of the prompt game pairing: owl hybrid!Jungkook x human!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, coworkers2lovers, hybrid!AU warnings: none word count: 1.736

a/n: hey! thanks a lot for this ask, I've never written a bird hybrid AU lol and I hope it's yandere-ish enough from her POV...um grande abrade para o Brasil 💕 sinta-se abracado

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’ve always prided yourself on being good at reading people. Working in a law firm will do that to you—you’ve learned to spot lies, pick up on subtle body language, and know when someone’s about to break under pressure. What you’re not so good at, though, is reading owl hybrids.

And, unfortunately, that’s a bit of a problem since your coworker, Jeon Jungkook, is one.

Jungkook isn’t just a regular owl hybrid either—he’s an associate lawyer at the firm, and he’s good. Really good. He’s smart, confident, and, to your endless frustration, almost annoyingly attractive. You’ve spent months working alongside him, but recently, something’s changed.

He’s been…weird.

It starts small. Little things you could have brushed off as quirks or hybrid instincts. Jungkook’s always been quiet and reserved, the type to work late into the night without bothering anyone. But lately, he’s been hovering. Not in an obvious way—that would be too easy to call him out on. No, it’s more subtle. He’s just…there. Not like usual just watching you from afar, which you always thought just how his nature is, but in your space more often than not.

Like the time you caught him standing behind you as you were trying to photocopy a case file. You hadn’t heard him approach—typical owl stealth—but there he was, staring at the back of your head with wide, unblinking eyes. You jumped, papers flying everywhere.

“Jungkook!” you’d yelped, clutching the case file to your chest. “What are you doing?”

He blinked, clearly startled by your reaction, then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, just… waiting for the copier.”

“Right,” you’d breathed, even though you knew for a fact that the other copier across the room was wide open. But, well, you didn’t want to be that person—the one who makes a big deal out of nothing. So, you let it slide.

Except it doesn’t stop there.

Next comes the coffee incident. You’re not a morning person—never have been, never will be. Jungkook, however, is apparently the exact opposite. He’s always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—well, minus the bushy tail part—by the time you shuffle into the office, usually with your hair still half-damp and your face smudged from hastily applied eyeliner.

One morning, you stumble in, bleary-eyed and ready to beg the coffee machine for mercy, only to find a steaming cup of your exact coffee order already sitting on your desk. With a little sticky note.

‘Thought you’d need this. – JK’

You stare at the note for a long moment. Jungkook’s handwriting is neat and a little loopy, not at all what you’d expect from someone so intense. And the coffee? Well, it’s perfect. Too perfect. You glance over at Jungkook’s desk, but he’s already pretending to be absorbed in his work, typing away like he’s the picture of innocence.

You decide to let that one slide too.

But then comes the feather.

It’s late one evening, well past office hours, and you’re both working overtime to meet a deadline. You’re going through yet another pile of documents, eyes straining under the fluorescent lights, when Jungkook approaches your desk. He’s got that look again—the one that’s a little too intense, like he’s about to ask you a life-altering question.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask, half-distracted by the file in front of you.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls something out. You blink at it, confused. It’s…a feather.

A big, soft, brown and white feather.

He holds it out to you, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“I, uh, wanted to give you this.”

You stare at the feather. Then you stare at him. Then back at the feather.

“Um. Thanks?” You take it from him reluctantly, unsure of what to do with it. Is this some sort of owl-hybrid thing? You’ve worked with hybrids before, but you’ve never had one just…hand you part of themselves. Is it a good luck charm? Is he shedding?

Jungkook’s still staring at you, so you awkwardly place the feather down on your desk and give him a tight-lipped smile. “That’s really…sweet of you, Jungkook.”

His eyes light up at that, and he nods, clearly satisfied. “You’re welcome.”

Then, just as quietly as he arrived, he retreats back to his desk, leaving you sitting there with a feather and absolutely no idea what the hell just happened.

The next day, you’re convinced it’s all some bizarre dream. Maybe you’ve been working too hard. Maybe the stress has finally fried your brain. But nope. The feather is still there, sitting on your desk like some sort of cryptic clue at a mystery dinner. 

You google “owl hybrid feather gift meaning” during your lunch break, and the results are…mixed. Half of the articles seem to think it’s some sort of honour, like receiving a medal. The other half? Well, they’re leaning heavily towards “romantic gesture,” which is ridiculous.

Jungkook? Interested in you? There’s no way.

You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you. Like. Always. His eyes flicker down to your desk where the feather sits, and he smiles, looking ridiculously pleased.

Okay, maybe there’s some way.

Days pass, and you can’t stop thinking about the feather. It’s just so…weird. You’ve even caught Yoongi, another associate, eyeing it with suspicion when he drops by your desk to discuss cases.

“You’ve got something on your desk,” Yoongi comments casually, nodding towards the feather.

“Yeah,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant. “Jungkook gave it to me.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Gave you a feather? From his wing?”

“I guess so?”

Yoongi’s face splits into a grin. “Oh, wow.”

“What? What does it mean?” You’re desperate for answers, but Yoongi just smirks and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

“Good luck with that, girl.”

You swear under your breath as he walks away, cackling like he’s just heard the funniest joke in the world. Now you’re even more confused.

A week later, you still haven’t figured out how to confront Jungkook about the whole feather situation. It’s not exactly something you can casually bring up. Like, Hey, thanks for the feather. Does that mean you fancy me? Yeah, that’s definitely not happening.

Instead, you decide to ignore it. If you pretend the feather doesn’t exist, maybe the whole thing will just blow over. Except Jungkook has other plans.

He’s started lingering around your desk even more now, often bringing you little things—snacks, coffee, once even a stapler when yours mysteriously disappeared, though you still suspect he stole it just to have an excuse to bring you a new one. Every time he does, he gives you that same intense look, like he’s waiting for something.

It’s driving you mad.

One particularly busy afternoon, after a long meeting with a difficult client, you return to your desk to find another feather. This one’s smaller, but it’s clearly from Jungkook. He’s left it next to your keyboard, along with a yet another sticky note.

‘In case you need some good luck today. – JK’

You groan, slumping into your chair. This is getting out of hand. You need to talk to him, figure out what’s going on. You can’t keep collecting feathers like some weird bird-obsessed hoarder.

So, after work, you march over to Jungkook’s desk with a determined look on your face. He looks up, surprised to see you standing there with both feathers in hand.

“Jungkook, we need to talk,” you say, trying to sound as professional as possible, which is difficult when you’re waving feathers around.

“Okay,” he blinks up at you with those big, round eyes of his. “What’s up?”

You bite your lip, suddenly unsure how to phrase this without sounding like a complete idiot. “Look, I appreciate the feathers. Really. But…what exactly do they mean?”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, then his eyes widen in realisation. “Wait…you don’t know?”

You shake your head, feeling more than a little awkward. “No? I mean, I thought maybe it was like…a hybrid thing? But I’m not really sure what to do with them.”

For a second, Jungkook looks genuinely shocked, like he can’t believe you’ve gone this long without figuring it out. Then he bursts into laughter, doubling over in his chair.

You stand there, feathers in hand, as Jungkook wipes away tears of laughter. “Oh my God, you really didn’t know,” he gasps between giggles.

“No!” you exclaim, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. “Care to explain it to me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, composing himself before he finally says, “I was…courting you.”

You freeze. “Courting?”

“Yeah,” he waves around, looking a little sheepish now. “In owl hybrid culture, we give feathers to the person we like. It’s…it’s kind of like a proposal, but, y’know, not that serious right away. Just a ‘hey, I fancy you, wanna go out?’ kind of thing.”

Your brain short-circuits for a moment. Jungkook’s been…courting you? For how long? 

“Oh,” you stand there dumbly.

Jungkook rubs his knuckles, clearly nervous now. “I thought you knew. I mean, I probably should’ve explained it better, but…yeah.”

You stare at the feathers in your hands, realisation slowly sinking in. Jungkook, the quiet, intense, ridiculously good-looking owl hybrid you’ve been working with for months, has been trying to ask you out this whole time. With feathers.

“Well, shit,” you mutter, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees, scratching his cheek. “Sorry if it was a bit weird.”

“No, no,” you interject quickly, still trying to process everything. “It’s not weird. Just…unexpected.”

There’s a brief pause before Jungkook looks up at you, his expression softer now. “So…does that mean you’d be interested? In going out, I mean?”

You smile, a warm fluttering feeling spreading in your chest. “Yeah. I think I would.”

Jungkook’s face lights up in the most adorably dorky way possible, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Cool! I’ll, uh, pick you up tomorrow after work?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, still holding the feathers like some sort of love token.

As you walk back to your desk, you glance down at them again, not able to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this hybrid courtship thing isn’t so bad after all.

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | exhibitionism + piercing

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader, feat. lloyd's friends: andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale, steve rogers

warnings | ddlg dynamics (lloyd is a soft sweet daddy.) months of no touch/orgasms. clit hood piercing (+ me not knowing much about them.) fivesome with a sixth watching; exhibitionism. fingering (vaginal + anal.) nipple play. clit focus + rubbing. overstimulation. asking permission to come + she comes hard. so much praise and encouragement. probably some light mocking/humiliation. sooo many petnames. aftercare!! :) brief alcohol mention

word count | 1,580

an | sorry for the weird formatting? tumblr wouldn't allow me to use the bulleted list bc of too many characters i think- but ahhh omg the very last kinkmas piece 🥺 this event has been so much fun i hope you've all enjoyed the stuff i've written!! make sure to check out the event masterlist for anything you might've missed and thanks so much for reading along with me this month!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all of you sweet friends ��💕

thinking about daddy!lloyd piercing your clit hood and then inviting all his friends over to show you off 🫠 piercings do take time to heal so maybe he's away on a trip for a few months after it happens, and when he returns home he has his buddies over to come play with you 😌 you were touch-free for that time period, so by the time the big night comes you're more than ready for some attention down there

lloyd dresses you up in a pretty new dress he got while out on his trip, short with lots of cleavage showing as always. and panties are skipped entirely; they'd just get in the way. he has you wait in your room as he brings his guests in, getting everyone settled in the fancy lounge with drinks and snacks. then he sends one of his servants to bring you down from where you're patiently waiting upstairs

andy, ari, ransom, and steve all coo and fawn adoringly as soon as you appear. you recognize every face in the group quite well; these are your daddy's closest and most trusted friends, the only men he would ever allow near you besides himself. this isn't the first time they've come over to play under lloyd's supervision. while these sessions can be overwhelming with so many players involved, things never get out of hand, as each of your daddy's friends treat you with just as much respect and care as he would, himself

"there's the pretty girl. we've missed you, sweetheart," ari's cooing from his seat on one of the armchairs

"that's a cute little dress, sunshine. s'it new?" ransom winks at you as he stands near your daddy's chair, finishing a glass of scotch

"come on over, doll. your daddy said you have something very special to show us," steve says gently, patting the space on the long leather couch between him and andy

the lawyer nods at the blonde man's words, adding, "come here, honey. got a nice spot saved just for you"

lloyd's on the other couch, across from steve and andy. "go on, princess. they've all been waiting so patiently to see," he encourages you

you find your way over, sitting down obediently between the two broad men. ari comes and sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. ransom makes his way behind the couch, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and easing you back a bit

"you wanna show us, angel?" ari asks gently as he leans in a bit, helping the men on either side of you bring your legs up to bend at the knee, your stocking-covered feet falling to either side of you. when you give a timid nod, the skirt of your dress is lifted up to expose your most intimate parts to the eager men surrounding you. a soft gasp is shared as they all lay eyes on your leaking cunt, swollen and sensitive from months of neglect

"aww, little one," steve's murmuring sympathetically at the sight of your arousal

"look at that ring- so pretty, sweet girl," andy marvels at the sight of the gold loop that now runs right through the fleshy hood covering your needy little nub

"your daddy told us it's a very special ring," ari hums steadily as he reaches out and gently spreads your messy folds apart, all of the men watching as your little hole twitches. "it goes right through the hood of your sweet little clit, doesn't it baby?"

"and that means," ransom chimes in from behind as he reaches down into your low-cut top, gently collecting your tits in his hands and squeezing at them, "that every time it moves, it rubs right up against your poor little button. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you manage to give a shaky nod, a small whimper rising in your throat as the men all close in to finally start giving you the relief you so desperately need. there's no fumbling or hesitation, each of them settling in on their own task to contribute to the system of pleasure

steve brings two huge fingers to line up right at your opening, swirling the tips around briefly in your pool of slick before steadily pushing in. "okay sweetheart, let's get this pretty little pussy nice and filled up"

ransom continues up at your chest, his fingers rubbing and pinching at your pebbled nipples. "there you go, doll face. just relax," he's encouraging as your back arches lightly, making you sink a bit down further into the couch

andy drags some of your plentiful wetness down, carefully teasing the tip of a single digit over your puckered rosebud. he chuckles when you let out a startled whine, his voice low and soothing in tone as he croons, "easy, baby. i'll be gentle, i promise"

and ari seems maybe the most pleased of them all as he begins tapping and tugging gently at the small gold ring settled so perfectly against your now hardened clit. the feeling of the metal bumping and moving against your throbbing button is already more than enough to make you squirm, ari's patient gaze settled on you as he murmurs, "look at that, so responsive, just like always. does that feel good, baby doll? here, i wonder if we just-"

the others continue masturbating you in their various ways as the man before you pulls up on the ring, forcing the hood of your clit back to reveal your swollen little nub. "there it is," ari breathes happily as he steals some of your slick, bringing his thumb up to begin swiping repeatedly over your exposed bundle of nerves as his other hand keeps its hood retracted with the ring

"oh-... o-oh..." you're immediately stumbling over your words, your breaths shuddering as your clit burns brutally beneath ari's quickening pace

"think someone likes that," steve's chuckling beside you as he stretches you out on his fingers, curling them upward to stroke against your weak spot

andy's gathered more of your arousal to coat his pointer finger as he gently begins easing it up into your tight little ass, his eyes shining with pride as you weakly take the intrusion, "yeah? you like that, baby girl? that's it, honey. you're being so good for us"

"let's see if we can make this pretty little girl come for us," ari speaks to the others as your tummy quivers, your little legs shaking on either side of you as the stimulation becomes more and more overwhelming. but as soon as your knees begin trying to close, steve and andy are holding them open, giving you no choice but to lay there against the hot leather and let the men bring you to orgasm

"remember to ask permission, baby," ransom's reminding you as his head leans down next to your ear. the hands all over your body continue, but everyone glances over in lloyd's general direction as he sits just across the coffee table on the opposite couch, watching intently with a hand placed at his chin. one of his big rules for shared play time is that you always get his permission to come

"p-please daddy," your little voice comes out begging as both your holes are fucked forcefully now with large, slippery fingers, your nipples being rolled and rubbed as your clit is flicked in rapid succession. "please, c-can i-... can i-i come?"

lloyd scoots forward a bit, giving a simple nod as he lowers his hand from his face. "go ahead, princess. being so good for daddy's friends, you can come. you've earned it, baby"

as soon as you're allowed, you let go, your orgasm washing over you with impressive force. being the first climax you've had in months, it's quite the sight to be seen

all the praise coming from the men surrounding you blurs together as your holes contract around the fingers still pumping inside you: "oh- there it is" "good, very good, little one" "look at that, coming so hard for us" "keep going, baby. keep coming, that's it" "poor little girl, needed it so bad, huh?" "so cute when she comes, isn't she? such a precious girl"

when the waves of pleasure are finally dying down, their cheers turn to softer, soothing words as their hands still against you: "did so good for us, pretty girl. we're so proud of you" "that feel good, angel? seemed like a pretty big one" "you're okay, sweetheart. here, let's get your daddy over here" “no little one, don’t move. we’ll take care of the mess; you just hang tight”

everything feels like you’re experiencing it through a haze as lloyd comes over with the supplies needed for aftercare. you’re cleaned up and put in a comfy pair of fresh panties, your dress being repositioned on you to cover you up. someone wraps you in a blanket, and soon you’re safe and content in your daddy’s arms

the men all spend the rest of the night doting on you, helping keep you in a tiny headspace where you feel so safe and cared for. you get all the snuggles, tummy rubs, hair strokes, nose and cheek kisses, and gentle loving words you could ever want from each of your daddy’s wonderful friends

wow holy cow i got carried away with this 😮‍💨 all of them at once is so much but like,, , the i need that kind of so much 😔🙏

[httpsdana]

hey!

love your work! i was wondering if you could do one about pau cubarsi and they get a pet and she pays all her attention to the pet and pau gets jealous or smthg?

thank you sm 💕

Puppy Love~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

From the moment y/n and Pau brought home their new puppy, Mochi, it was pure love. They'd both been so excited, planning out every little detail: his bed, his toys, the cutest little collar, and spending way too long debating whether “Mochi” or “Tofu” was the perfect name. Eventually, Mochi won out, and now here he was, a fluffy little ball of mischief that they both adored like their own child.

Pau was obsessed from the start. He would cradle Mochi in his arms, cooing, “Mi amor, look at him! He’s already the most handsome boy in the world. Right, Mochi? You’re perfect.”

She'd laugh at his cuteness, running her fingers through Mochi’s soft fur. “Wow, I think I have some competition now.”

Pau smirked, giving her a wink. “Sorry, cariño. Mochi and I? Unstoppable duo. He’s basically my mini-me.”

“Oh, so he’s already dramatic about mealtimes and leaving crumbs everywhere?” she teased with a smile

Pau gasped, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I am not dramatic, and I clean up my crumbs… sometimes.”

The early days with Mochi were filled with laughter and cuddles, both of them cooing over every little thing he did. The two of them doted on him together, taking turns waking up in the middle of the night when he’d whimper or need to go outside, racing each other to see who could make it to Mochi first when he called for attention.

But soon, Pau’s schedule got a bit busier. He was away more for practices and games, and y/n found herself spending more and more time with Mochi. While Pau was out, she'd have little “puppy and me” dates, complete with treats, belly rubs, and mini photoshoots where she would send the funniest pictures to Pau, captioned with things like, Look at your competition or Mochi says he’s the new man of the house.

Pau would text back immediately. No way. Mochi can’t be half as charming as me. But then he’d send three heart emojis and demand more photos.

One evening, after a long day, Pau came home, eager for some quality time. He walked in to see y/n sprawled on the couch with Mochi stretched out across her chest, his tiny head resting comfortably as she scratched his belly.

Pau stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and giving her both an exaggerated pout. “I’m gone for a few hours, and this is what I come back to?”

She looked up, stifling a laugh at the face he was making. “Jealous of Mochi, are we?”

He put a hand to his chest, looking utterly wounded. “Me? Jealous? Absolutely. This used to be my spot, you know,” he grumbled, nodding at the spot on her chest where Mochi was curled up. “I used to get those head scratches, too.”

“Oh, bebé, come here,” she cooed, setting Mochi down gently before opening her arms. Pau took his chance, practically launching himself onto the couch to snuggle up to her.

“Finally,” he sighed dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “About time you give me some attention.” His tone was teasing, but he looked so adorable that she couldn’t help but laugh.

y/n wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Aww, you poor thing. Mochi just missed you. I missed you, too,” she said, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Oh, good. Because I was about to start howling for attention myself,” he joked, causing her to burst out laughing.

“Maybe Mochi has been teaching you a thing or two,” she teased, ruffling Pau’s hair just like she did with Mochi.

Pau grinned, snuggling closer. “So, you’re saying I need to be more puppy-like? Alright then.” He scrunched up his face and gave a dramatic little whimper, making puppy eyes at her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, laughing as she stroked his hair. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously cute?” he asked with a hopeful grin, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Alright, yes, ridiculously cute,” she admitted, kissing him softly.

Mochi, clearly curious about the attention shift, clambered back onto the couch, settling down between y/n and Pau, his little tail wagging as he looked up at the two of them.

Pau raised an eyebrow, looking at Mochi. “Oh no, you’re not stealing my girl again,” he warned playfully. “Go on, go chew a toy or something.”

But Mochi just flopped down, resting his little head on her lap, looking far too adorable to move.

Pau sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. My own puppy is trying to sabotage me,” he said, though his face softened as he reached over to scratch Mochi’s ears. “Alright, fine, maybe we can share the lap.”

y/n laughed, leaning over to give Pau a kiss. “Face it, babe, we’re a package deal now. You, me, and Mochi.”

Pau’s face lit up as he kissed her back, pulling her closer. “As long as I get first dibs on goodnight kisses. Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed, grinning as she wrapped herself up in his embrace, Mochi happily snuggled between them.

From that day on, Pau made sure to reclaim his spot in the cutest ways— “accidentally” bumping Mochi aside to curl up in her lap or dramatically announcing his need for “emergency cuddles” whenever he saw her petting the puppy. The three of them settled into a perfectly fluffy routine, filled with laughter, and many sweet moments.

In the end, they both knew they’d created a little family, with enough love to go around—Mochi included, of course.

[goldfades]

👒🌱 Hey! I was trying to decide what to request and i was thinking of a mixture of angst and fluff and couldn’t decide. I picked the prompts below. I am thinking of a scenario where you run into trouble… something scary or sad happens and they have to come to your rescue (even though we are all baddies who don’t need men lmao) and they protect you/make things better. With jack please and thank you! 💕

33. "don't worry. i'll keep you safe no matter what."

7. "can i stay with you tonight? i don't want to go home."

𝐢'𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 1.1k

♡ ─ warnings | creepy drunk men, protective!jack, alcohol, mention of anxiety, nothing else!

♡ ─ ev's notes | i didn't use the last prompt, it didn't cross my mind i'm sorry!

You looked down at your drink as you listened to Jack and his friends talk about something sports. You were zoned out, in your own world as the music played through the speakers of the bar. As you gazed into your drink, the ice cubes clinked against the sides of the glass, creating a soothing sound that seemed to echo.

You felt Jack's hands moved to your shoulders and squeeze unexpectedly making you jump slightly, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. You looked up at your boyfriend, a smile playing on your lips. The warmth in his gaze was comforting, grounding you in the present moment.

"Hey there," Jack said, his voice soft amid the background noise of the bar. "Everything alright?"

You nodded, the warmth of his touch seeping into you. "Just lost in thought, I guess. But I'm here now."

His smile widened, and he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Well, welcome back," he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin. Feeling the tension melt away, you leaned into his embrace, savoring the comfort of his presence amidst the loud bar.

"Jack!" You both turned your heads at the sound. "Let's play some pool, whoever loses buys all of us a round."

Jack grinned at the challenge, exchanging a quick glance with you before nodding in agreement. "Okay, buddy. Are we gonna have a replay of last Saturday night," he called back to his friend, a playful spark in his eyes. "You comin', sweetheart?"

You nodded, "I'll be right there, I'm gonna go get a refill."

As Jack headed towards the pool table, you made your way to the bar to get a refill. The bartender greeted you with a nod as you approached.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked over the loud music of the bar.

"Another one of these," you replied, holding up your nearly empty glass. The bartender swiftly took it, and with a knowing smile, began preparing your drink.

As you waited, you glanced around, taking in the eclectic mix of people and the décor that adorned the walls. You kept looking back to see if Jack was still at the pool table, nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach. You suddenly felt someone come up behind you and sit next to you, you expected it to be Jack or one of your friends, you weren't expecting a man you didn't recognize.

Your anxiety spiked as you felt the presence of the unfamiliar man beside you, his sudden appearance sending a jolt of unease through your body.

"Hey there," he greeted, his voice cutting through the ambient noise. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the bar. Mind if I join you?"

You managed a polite but cautious smile, "Uh, thanks, but I'm actually here with my boyfriend."

He let out a bitter laugh as he shook his head. "Who said anything about boyfriends, just bein' friendly. Can I get you a drink?"

"Thanks, but I'm good," you replied, trying to maintain a firm but polite boundary. The uneasy tension lingered in the air as you kept stealing glances towards the pool table, hoping Jack or one of your friends would notice the situation.

The man leaned in a little closer, his demeanor becoming more assertive. You could smell the alcohol all over him, your stomach twisting in anxiety. "Come on, just one drink. We can chat a bit, no harm in that."

A subtle sense of alarm crept over you, "I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather not. Excuse me," you said, attempting to get up, forgetting about the drink you had bought. He immediately got up as well, blocking you from getting up.

"I insist," he said, his voice edged with a persistence that sent chills down your spine. "Just one drink, it won't hurt. What's the harm in a little conversation?"

Panic simmered beneath the surface as you glanced around, hoping someone from your group or the bar staff would notice the situation. "I really need to get back to my boyfriend," you asserted, your voice firm but tinged with urgency. You tried to sidestep him, but he moved in sync with your every move, maintaining the blockade.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't be so uptight," he pressed, his demeanor taking on a more aggressive tone.

"I said no." You finally shouted, looking up at the man and trying to finally walk away. As soon you thought you had gotten away, you felt his hand grab your arm and pull you backwards, falling back on the bar.

A surge of fear and anger fueled you as you planted your feet on the ground, summoning every ounce of strength to resist. "Let go of me!" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear.

Before the man could do anything else, he was pushed to the ground by a force. You blinked up at Jack, relief running through your veins. Jack then grabbed him up by the collar, "Why do you have your fucking hands on her?"

"Relax, man-"

"Relax? You just pinned my girlfriend on the bar when she told you no, what the fuck do you mean relax?" Jack's voice boomed with anger, his grip tightening on the man's collar.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it. Just trying to talk, you know?" he stammered, his voice faltering under Jack's unwavering gaze.

"You're fucking lucky I haven't beat your ass by now, buddy." Jack's jaw clenched, his protective instincts in full force. He pushed the man to the floor, "Fuckin' pussy."

As Jack walked back towards you, his anger began to subside, replaced by a concern that softened his features. The intensity in his eyes gave way to a warmer expression as he reached out to you. "I'm sorry, baby I should've come with you."

"No, no it's not your fault. I just should've waited until you were done, I forgot how weird men could be."

Jack's arms tightened around you, offering silent reassurance and support. "I know, baby. It's not your fault either. You shouldn't have to worry about stuff like this," he said, his voice filled with empathy. "I'll keep you safe no matter what, okay?"

You gently touched his cheek, the warmth of your touch encouraging him to meet your gaze. "It's okay, really. I handled it, and you came to my rescue. That's all that matters."

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the lingering tension from the encounter began to dissipate. Jack pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead

"I love you," he whispered, his words warm as he spoke.

"I love you too," you replied, the simple affirmation carrying with it a promise of shared strength and enduring support.

"Let's go home, alright?" Jack suggested, his voice a gentle invitation laced with concern.

You nodded, grateful for the offer. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Hand in hand, you both made your way towards the exit, leaving the bar and its unsettling memories behind. The night air outside felt crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the intensity of the enclosed space you had just left.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations, I adore your story!!

Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

To Keep You Safe

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language

Word Count: 1042

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.

Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.

He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.

And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.

(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.

Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.

“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.

“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.

“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.

“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.

“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.

“(Y/N).”

“Tommy.”

“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”

(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.

“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”

Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.

Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.

“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.

“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.

“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.

“I will,” he assured her with a nod.

(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.

“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.

“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”

“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.

“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.

Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.

He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.

**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[nickfowlerrr]

🦋: “Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?” with August Walker 🙏🫠💕 (hope this gets through, stupid tumblr!)

desperate times, desperate measures

pairing: august walker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. fluff. pet names. some dom/sub vibes. spanking. dirty talk. reader calls august sir. if i’m missing something lmk.

words: 2,222

notes: ten thousand years later lol 😭 thank you for sending this prompt in!! apologies that it’s taken so long to get to it, but i hope you enjoy!

thank you in advance for reading, and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcomed and so appreciated. 🖤

You bat your lashes, playing innocent as August fumes down at you.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” you say, “you said if I had a problem that I needed to figure it out for myself and not bother you, that’s exactly what I did.”

He takes another step closer and now your back is completely to the wall. You swallow thickly as he closes in, his eyes dark as he glares at you.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, kitten,” he growls.

“With all due respect, I’m not laughing, sir.”

He scoffs at the honorific. “Now you want to recall your place.”

“I haven’t forgotten it, sir,” you shake your head with a pout. “But you told me to solve my problems on my own so, I don’t know,” you shrug, musing aloud before looking into his heady eyes, “maybe you’ve forgotten yours?”

That’s it. You’ve pushed his last button. You can see the fire as it flares in his gaze and fight your smile at finally having his attention again.

You gasp as his hand circles your throat and he shoves you harder against the wall, his nostrils flaring in his irritation.

“This your way of saying you missed me, angel?”

You don’t respond as he squeezes your throat just so.

“Because if it is, you’ve gone about it all wrong.” His tone softens as he tilts his head at you, your hand gripping his wrist as he keeps you in place, “I know you like it soft and sweet, princess, but if that’s what you wanted, you should’ve been patient and asked nicely, like a good kitten. Instead,” he smirks wryly, “you’ve gone ahead and earned yourself not one, but two punishments now.”

“Two?” you squeak out in question.

“One for talking back, and one for touching what doesn’t belong to you.”

You pout up at him but it does nothing to help your case.

“You know better, princess. You don’t bother me when I’m working-“

“But I didn-“ you try to argue before he squeezes your throat again, eliciting a whimper from you as you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

“And you don’t touch yourself while I’m gone. You sure as hell don’t get yourself off while I’m away without my permission either. Now don’t get yourself into any more trouble, and tell me the truth.”

You fingers dance along his thick forearm as you wait for him to ask what you know he’s going to.

“How many times did you come without me?”

You start to open your mouth but he stops you before you can voice your answer.

“Do not lie to me,” he warns darkly.

“Twice,” you wisp out, looking down at his chest as you avoid his glare.

“Twice,” he hums. “10 for each time, that sounds fair, doesn’t it, princess?”

You slowly look up to his blazing blue eyes and with your pout still fixed on your face, you nod softly.

“Yes, sir. That sounds fair.”

He leans in, kissing your cheek before whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Now step out of your panties and get your ass on the couch.”

He lets you go and takes only a single step back from you, watching as you slip your hands under your skirt and pull your underwear down your thick, plush thighs.

He licks his lips just thinking about getting you on his face again. He knows you love the way his mustache tickles you as he eats you out and he loves the way you taste on his tongue, the weight of you on his face, those soft thighs around his head, threatening to suffocate him. It’s intoxicating and he can feel his cock growing in his pants as he imagines it.

He knows you’ve missed him and he knows he’s been too focused, too preoccupied on things that don’t mean anywhere near as much to him as you do.

And he’s gonna make it up to you. But you did break the rules, so you’re gonna make it up to him first.

-

Your ass is hot and stinging from the nineteen strikes of August’s heavy palm coming down hard on your bottom.

You’re bent over his lap as he sits on the couch and soothes his latest strike as you whimper and whine at the feeling. The mix of pain and pleasure has you wanting and on edge.

“You’ve taken your first punishment well, princess. Maybe now you deserve a little treat,” he speaks lowly, letting his fingers delve lower as he brushes against your wetness.

You moan at his touch but you know all his little tricks. You’ve learned the hard way.

“Thank you, sir,” you begin, “but I have one more spanking left to make it up to you.”

He laughs darkly at your words, amused by your catching on.

“You’re right, kitten,” he rumbles, sliding his hand back up to your bottom. “One more, and then you can have a treat.”

He rubs your hot cheek, deliberately taking his time before you feel him raise his hand.

You try hard not to stiffen too much, you know he doesn’t like that, as you wait for the sting.

It’s hard and fast as he spanks you one final time, jolting you on his lap as you cry out, your hands clawing at his thighs as the pang radiates. In nearly the same moment, his hand is once again rubbing softly at your bottom, soothing the sharp sting.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, “so good for me.”

You murmur as he kneads your ass, spreading your cheeks and urging your thighs apart too. You’re dripping with your arousal and he loves it.

He shoves you forward, and you catch yourself on the cushion before you as he moves around your backside.

You’re on your hands and knees on the couch, barely registering what just happened, as August wastes no time in getting behind you and shoving his face between your legs.

You squeak in your surprise before moan after moan tumbles out of you. August holds you by your hips as he buries himself in your wet pussy, his mustache adding that peculiarly delightful sensation to his tendings.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you make the most sinfully beautiful sounds for him. Your wetness on his tongue has his cock throbbing and as much as he wants to feel you come just like this, he can’t wait any longer to get his dick inside you.

You whine in disappointment as he parts from your cunt but then you hear the sound of his zipper as he pulls down his pants and your walls clench around nothing in your excitement.

You haven’t felt him in days and it’s been driving you crazy. You’ve needed this. You’ve needed him. So if you had to break a rule or two to break his trance on his work - especially after he’d been gone for nearly a week - you were gonna do what you had to do.

You can feel the tip of him as he lines himself up to your waiting hole. One strong hand on your hip and the other tight on his cock as he plays with you for a long, torturous moment, and then with one sharp thrust, he’s fully inside of you.

You moan at the feeling as he slides back out and then slams right back in, fucking you hard and deep. He makes sure you feel each and every inch of his thick cock as he fills your pussy.

Every thrust has you crying out as his hips slap against your still sore ass and his hand grips your hip tight. His other slides up your soft body, feeling your belly and your grab-able curves through your clothes. He squeezes your covered breast and growls as he thrusts into you harder.

You can’t help yourself as you push back on him, meeting his thrusts in perfect time as your slick walls squeeze his length.

“Feels so good, sir,” you moan. “Ahh,” you cry, “so good!”

“I know, princess,” he smirks, breathing heavy, “I feel you squeezing my cock,” he grunts, “you gonna come for me, angel? Huh?” He punctuates his question with a particularly deep thrust, pulling you back by your hips as he keeps you still against him. His movements get sharper and harder as he begins to use you the way you like in this position, like you’re just a fuck toy for him to use whenever he wants. His groans and grunts filling your ears as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter as he fucks you.

He’s so strong and his thrusts are so powerful that he knocks you off your arms as he uses you and you let your head fall to the cushion as your back arches further.

You can’t do anything but moan and gasp through the intense pleasure building and building until you feel his thick fingers on your sensitive clit. You cry out as he works you closer to your high.

“Oh, god, August, I’m - I’m fuck, I’m gonna come! Please please please let me come, sir, please,” you cry pathetically, a part of you praying to anyone who might be listening that he’s too preoccupied with fucking you to remember he still owes you one more punishment.

“Yeah?” He growls, “Gonna come on my cock, baby? Fuck,” he snarls as your walls squeeze him tighter and you moan your affirmation. “Go ahead,” he pants in your ear as he leans over you, somehow hitting your most sensitive spot even more as he gets deeper inside of you. “Come on my fat cock. Wanna feel your pussy squeeze me so tight you get every last drop of my fucking cum out. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he grunts. “You want that, don’t you, baby? Want my cum dripping out of you like the dirty little slut you are.”

Thank fuck.

“Want it, wanna feel you, sir. Want your cum,” you whimper, “please. come inside me, I want it so bad, sir, please.” You sound debauched and pathetic and it has August right on edge with you.

Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave as he speaks so dirty in your ear, your belly clenching, toes curling, eyes screwed shut, as you cry out and your tight pussy milks his cock. The second he felt you start to come, he didn’t bother holding himself back any longer either, his thick cum spilling against your walls as he slowed his thrusts.

You’re out of breath as you crumple beneath him and you gasp at the loss of him as he gently pulls his cock out of you. He spreads your pussy and watches as his cum spills out of you, his big hands massaging your thighs until he drags his touch up to your ass, again kneading your softness before he leans down and kisses your cheeks.

His hands go to your hips as he moves his touch and his body up your own until his chest is against your back and his lips are against cheek. He kisses you again gently as his arms wrap around your middle.

He turns you over so you’re facing him as you lay on the couch, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, fighting a pout as you peer up at him.

“I know,” he responds, “I’ve missed you, too.” He leans closer and kisses you softly as your fingers play in his hair. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long, then I got caught up in work and I -,” he cuts himself off. “I’m sorry, angel.”

You smile softly and pull him close again to give him a kiss of your own.

“You gonna make it up to me?” You question playfully.

He smirks, “was what we just did not enough?”

“Not nearly,” you shake your head. “You haven’t even taken my clothes off, yet.”

August chortles at your frown, pushing himself to sit up on the couch and pulling you with him, seating you on his lap.

“You’re right,” he smirks wickedly, “I’ve got a lot I wanna do with you tonight, so why don’t we start with you giving me a little show. Remind me what I’ve been missing?”

You smile coyly and nod, slipping off his lap. Before you can turn from him though, he stops you with his hand on your wrist.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your second punishment. It’s coming,” he promises, blue eyes burning into your own, the excitement there sending a new thrill through you.

“Yes, sir,” you reply demurely, slowly pulling your hand from his - the longing between you both for one another more than evident in the touch.

You’re excited for what’s to come, but most for the end of the night - the one predictable part of your reunion where you know you’ll find yourself cleaned, fed, and cozy in August’s arms as he holds you and murmurs praises, sweet nothings and confessions of his love for you until you fall asleep together.

And then, if you ask real nice, the morning will bring you August’s special blueberry pancakes, and a whole lotta loving. Soft and sweet, just the way he knows you like.

[moonselune]

Hey! Could you write something about jealous Gale, Wyll and Astarion, please? 💕 (Thank you!!)

jealous jealous boyyyyyyy I loved this so muchhhhhhh jealous prompts just make my brain go brrrrrr

Gale:

You had always admired Gale's prowess with magic. His spells were elegant, his incantations precise. Yet, on this particular day, as you walked through the bustling streets of Baldur's Gate, a different mage approached you, offering to teach you a new spell.

"Allow me," the mage said smoothly, his eyes lingering on you with more interest than was purely professional.

You hesitated, intrigued by the promise of new knowledge. Gale, walking beside you, stiffened noticeably. His jaw clenched as he watched the mage perform a simple cantrip, showing off a minor illusion with a flourish.

After the mage walked away, leaving you with a scroll and a promise to meet again, Gale turned to you, his eyes dark with barely restrained jealousy. "Why would you need someone else to teach you magic?" he asked, his voice tight.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you tucked the scroll into your pack. "Gale, my love, are you jealous?"

"Of course not. It's just… I know your capabilities and it’s insulting to see someone else presume to teach you as if you were an amateur." He huffed, crossing his arms defensively. You stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"You know you're the only teacher I could ever have," you said softly, looking up into his eyes. You smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek, moving to hover over his ear. "Your lessons are much more intimate and attentive."

His tense posture relaxed slightly, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth as a small blush bloomed across his cheeks.

"Very well, then," he said, his tone warming as he pulled you to his side, a hand snaking around your waist, "I have a few new spells in mind that I think you’ll find quite invigorating"

Wyll:

The vibrant melodies of a bard's lute filled the air as you walked through the marketplace. The bard's eyes lit up when he saw you, and he began to serenade you with a heartfelt tune. Before you knew it, he extended his hand, inviting you to dance.

Wyll, ever the gentleman, stood nearby, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the bard's antics. The bard spun you around gracefully, and for a moment, you were caught up in the music and the joy of the dance. But just as the bard pulled you closer, Wyll stepped in, intercepting the dance with a fluid, graceful motion.

"May I cut in?" Wyll asked, his voice polite but firm, not waiting for an answer as he took your hand and led you away from the bard.

You smiled up at him, amused by the possessive edge in his movements. "Wyll, are you jealous?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Jealous? No, no. Gentlemen don't get jealous."

You pretended to believe him, nodding solemnly. "Of course, how silly of me. I'm glad I have such a composed and unaffected partner."

Wyll smiled, spinning you around before pulling you close again. "Just remember who your real dance partner is," he murmured, his voice low and full of meaning.

You smiled again and pressed a kiss to his lips, but to your surprise he dipped you over his leg and deepened it. Kissing you passionately before lifting you back up. You giggled and pressed your face to his chest in slight embarrassment, trying to hide your rosy red cheeks. He laughed and put a hand on your back, definitely not sending a glare to the bard who had seen the whole thing.

Astarion:

Astarion had always been charmingly possessive, but today his jealousy was more biting. As you spoke with an attractive merchant, Astarion's eyes darkened with jealousy. Later, when you returned to him, he greeted you with a cold, cutting remark.

"Enjoying your time with every attractive stranger who crosses your path?" he sneered, his eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and anger. "Or are we just so deperate for attention that we will take any measly means of it."

You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. He had been acting like this all afternoon and you had had enough. "What is your problem, Astarion? Why are you being so foul?"

Instead of answering, he turned away, his shoulders tense. You threw your hands up in the air in frustration and stormed off, your heart heavy with hurt. You walked a few metres outside of camp, Scratch diligently following you, and sat on a fallen tree. Scratch put his head in your lap as you stroked him for comfort.

It wasn't long before you heard footsteps behind you. Astarion appeared, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a look of remorse. Scratch let out a low growl, the dog being rather attached to you and sensing how this was going to play out.

You didn't look at him, just remained petting Scratch and looking out into the forest. "What do you want Astarion, or are you just here to shame me some more?"

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice lacking its usual sharpness and trembled with an emotion he was unfamiliar with - guilt? Shame? "I was out of line."

You stopped petting Scratch and turned to him, your eyes searching his. He looked downtrodden and overall quite pathetic, his usual bravado nowhere to be seen. "Why do you do this, Astarion? Why do you push me away when you're jealous?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and he walked to you, dropping to his knees. Scratch eyed him with slight irritation as he pushed him out of his spot, but he soon became distracted by a squirrel that ran across the path and he left the two of you to it.

"It's because I care about you more than I care to admit. The thought of losing you to someone else.... it.. it.. terrifies me. Please, I can't lose you" Astarion begged, as he held your hands in your lap, looking up at you with wet red eyes.

You softened, leaning towards him, brushing a strand of his pale curled locks behind his ear. "You won't lose me, Astarion. But you need to trust me."

He nodded, resting his head in your lap. "I know. I promise I'll try to be better. Just… don't ever leave me."

You combed your fingers through his hair, a small smile on your lips as you felt the sincerity in his words. "I won't. Not ever."

my hands slipped and I accidentally made Astarion's a bit angsty - or should I say Ass-starion, am I right.?... I'll leave now.. - Seluney xoxox

[dinlukeweek]

🖤DinLuke Week 2024 Prompts List💚

Hear ye! Hear ye! Here are the final results for this year's DinLuke Week Prompts 📢

June 23 Din Takes the Red Five Bounty / DinLuke Meet During Mandalorian S1 June 24 Meet the Family / Culture & Traditions June 25 Touch-Starved!Din / Blindfolds June 26 Childhood Friends AU / Din Owes Luke a Life Debt June 27 Bodyguard!Din/Prince!Luke / Medieval AU June 28 Getting Together / Love Confessions June 29 Scars / Beskar Hand!Luke

We'd like to thank everyone who submitted all these amazing prompts💕! Some of the entries were similar to prompts from previous years, so we didn’t include them in the final tally (you can check them out in our guide here).

With so many interesting prompts this year, we've given them a special place as our honorable mentions:

Lightsaber Training/Dueling

Historical AU

Mechanic!Luke

Co-parenting

Undercover Spies AU

When posting week arrives, @dinlukeweek and/or include #dinluke week 2024 in your tags so we can find and reblog your submissions! If you're posting to AO3, you can also submit your creations to the DinLuke Week 2024 collection!

Also, if you're looking for a place to chat about your fanworks or collaborate or to gush about DinLuke, send an ask to the Star Dads blog to join our Discord server!

We hope these prompts will inspire all you lovely fanwork creators to create 💖!

@swfandomevents

[minisugakoobies]

I Know | KSY

Pairing: Hoshi x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, established relationship, dancer!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: drunk hoshi, grumpy woozi, hoshi is absolutely whipped for reader, this is honestly just very soft and sweet!

Word Count: 816

Disclaimers: none, other than I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Even when he's passed-out drunk, Hoshi still manages to amaze you with his love.

Text Prompt: boyfriend texted me "my love I am intoxicated" and then five minutes later, his best friend sends me a photo of him, passed out, phone in hand, and zoomed in on one of my selfies - tweet from himbowithnofear

A/N: I'm back with another installment of my "texts from svt" series. At some point I'll make a masterlist, but for now, please enjoy this short lil' fic about my favorite affectionate drunk, Hoshi. Fun fact, I've actually had this one finished for a while, but couldn't resist posting Mingyu first!

Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Please come get your man.”

Jihoon’s grumpy request is the first thing you hear when you answer your phone. 

“Hey, Jihoon, how are you?” you laugh, unsurprised by his opening plea. Ten minutes ago, you’d received the following message from your boyfriend:

LOML: my love, i am  intoxicatedd

And had been waiting to hear from Jihoon ever since. Though you were a little surprised that he was video calling you instead of just calling or texting.

“To be honest with you, I’m not great right now. And it’s all your boyfriend’s fault.” 

You can’t help but laugh loudly. Jihoon scowls. 

“Why are you upset with Soonyoung? I thought you guys were celebrating tonight.” 

“Because.” Jihoon flips the camera. There’s your man, all 178 cm of him, snoring his ass off in the corner booth. “He’s driving the other customers out of my bar.”

If you’re being honest, you’d been expecting this moment long before Jihoon called you. Soonyoung had gone out for drinks with several of his friends to celebrate one of them getting a new job, and you knew your lightweight boyfriend would feel compelled to try to keep up with those lushes as always. Not at their insistence, but out of his own desire. It was a point of pride for him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m on my way.” 

“Thank you. Please hurry.” Jihoon winces. “I know he calls himself a tiger, but he really snores like a damn bear.” 

You laugh again, about to disconnect, when Jihoon makes a sudden noise of delight. 

“Hold on,” he chuckles, and the screen zooms in on the phone still clutched in Soonyoung’s hand. “Do you see that?” 

It’s you looking back at you. From a photo, one that you recognize immediately as one of Soonyoung’s self-proclaimed favorites, from the weekend you’d spent at the beach last summer. It’s actually a wide shot of you standing in front of a gorgeous sunset, soft pink light dancing on your skin, and that knowledge makes you smile right now. Because it means that your drunk sap of a boyfriend zoomed in on your face, right before he passed out. Probably to dream about you. 

Soonyoung never did anything by halves. Not dancing. Not drinking. 

And definitely not loving you.  

“Come get your simp.” With a grin, Jihoon disconnects.

Tossing your phone into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie of Soonyoung’s that you’re wearing, you grab your keys and head for the door. 

It’s not a long drive to the bar. Inside, you make a beeline for the booth in the back, familiar with the space around you. It’s basically your second home, between being best friends with the owner, and dating (though he’d never admit it) his favorite patron. And, speak of the devil, there he is, the love of your life, head on the table, mouth open, rattling the glasses on the table with his powerful exhalations. 

Something else Soonyoung doesn’t do by halves - sleeping.

Jihoon nods at you from across the bar. All of Soonyoung’s other friends are nowhere to be found, likely having gone home once Jihoon reassured them you were on your way. 

Ignoring the common advice regarding sleeping tigers, you slide onto the bench and gently lay your hand on Soonyoung’s back to shake him awake. 

“Soonyoungieeeee, time to get up,” you trill sweetly into his ear, brushing his dark hair out of his face.

He cracks an eye open. “Baby?” he asks groggily. “Is it time to go to work?” 

“No, dingdong, it’s Saturday. And you’re at Jihoon’s, remember?” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung sits up, looks around. “Right. Oh!” His eyes get wide. “Baby! Those hyungs got me soooo drunk!” 

Laughing, you brush some chip crumbs off his cheek. “I know, ‘youngie.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung’s eyes slip unfocused as he smiles. “Wait. You weren’t here and now you are.” He hiccups himself into a confused frown. “Why are you here?” 

“To take you home, dingdong.” Running your fingers through his hair again, you grin. 

Soonyoung looks at you and you swear you see his pupils turn into hearts. “You’re taking me home? With you? To your home?” 

You shake your head, gently tugging his beanie down over his ears. “How many shots did they make you take? Yes, you’re coming with me. To our apartment, where we both live.”

“We live together!” Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind his cheeks as he grins. “You love me!” 

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, yanking on his arm to get him onto his feet. He wobbles slightly, so you duck under his arm, trying to steady him, but he interprets this in another way, cupping your face to pull you in for a slightly clumsy but rather passionate kiss. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers, nose bumping repeatedly into your cheek as you start to lead him towards the exit. 

“I know, ‘youngie,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I know.” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Halsin blanket! :)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the prompt. ❤️

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You shivered lightly as the fire dwindled, leaving only you and Halsin in its twinkling glow, the rest of the camp having retired to their tents hours ago. You had taken first watch for the evening, and cast a stray glance over to where the Druid sat. "Not yet tired, Halsin?" You asked, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Trance has not yet called to me." He replied, mimicking your teasing grin back to you.

"Not much to keep us warm this evening. We'll have to find more kindling." You remarked, your eyes flicking to the dying embers, crackling lowly in a muted chuckle.

"Mmm. I've no need for assistance in keeping warm. Much time spent as a bear has built up quite a resistance to the night's chill."

"Then whatever will I do, Halsin?" You tittered playfully. "I have no such experience."

"That is truly a shame, indeed." He rumbled, his lips quirking up to reveal a canine tooth. "Perhaps I should aid you." He didn't wait for your response before rising and striding towards you; a man with purpose. He curled down onto the log beside you and put his hand on your back. "May I?"

You giggled softly at the brightness in his eyes and the way his emotions danced across his face in the moonlight. "Do as you must, Archdruid. I suspect you are the most excellent of teachers."

A chuckle rolled through him and he grunted his approval before his other hand came to your front and he lifted you from the ground, over his knee, and down between his legs. You yelped at the sudden handling and barked a surprised laugh as he settled you onto your behind and pulled your back to his chest, his arms curling around you completely.

"Is this alright?" He murmured in your ear, the rumble of his voice sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"Very much so." You replied, leaning into his warmth. "You were right, Halsin. There's no need for the fire after all."

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No edits or revisions. We die like women with severe brainrot. 💕

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