#but he really did get attached to his charges

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Waaaiitttt

If Ms Lion and Mr Wolf got married how would that work?

Would it be Mr and Mrs Lion/Wolf?

I have a feeling that isn't their reaal names but idk

If they got married they would be Mr. Wolf and Mrs. Lion.

Their names aren't really Mr. Wolf and Ms. Lion, you are correct. HOWEVER they ARE Federation employees so they don't really have names to begin with 🤷. That's just the names their usual charges gave them so the Federation just uses those names for simplicity like they always do.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao

Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.

The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.

The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.

They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.

At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?

Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.

Anyways!

They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.

All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.

Go figure.

Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.

The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.

Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.

Gordon sighs. Figures.

So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.

At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.

Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.

Haha. Nope.

So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.

Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.

Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.

Danny waves at Alfred.

Alfred waves a tiny finger back.

“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”

Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.

“You understand me?”

Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.

“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”

Danny gestures to the blister packet.

“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”

The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.

Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”

Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.

“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”

Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.

Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.

“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”

Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.

Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”

Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.

Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.

He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.

“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”

Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.

“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi!!! I was wondering if you could do hcs for what arguing would be like with the HOO boys

Don't talk me like that! | headcanons

— arguing with the hoO boys

warnings: angst, language, boys being...boys

who's here: jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang ands percy jackson.

a/n: ohh ohh ohhh, yes. I can. I love drama.

— jason grace:

To get into a real fight with him, you must have come a long way because he's so peaceful and always tries to negotiate calmly, making sure both of you communicate effectively. But at the end of the day, you're like any other couple and sometimes end up having real fights.

The big issue is Jason's nature. He goes silent when he's really upset, his emotions hard to show.

When he’s that mad, you can see it on his face. It’s scary, let’s not lie.

When the ice breaks, he tries to take charge to explain what's wrong, which often makes things worse.

He keeps his distance when you argue, tense and rigid. He’s like a handsome, angry log.

Sometimes he says things reluctantly, like "don't act childish," which is so him.

Yes, he raises his voice and gets frustrated, "no, I said NO, THAT’S NOT HOW IT IS, gods…"

If you're wondering if his powers show, the answer is NEVER, or at least not against you. His mouth might taste like metal or his fingers might spark, but that's just him being really stressed.

His eyes get cloudy and grey.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples while muttering.

When things finally start to work out, he breathes better and starts talking more because he knows nothing will work if he doesn’t.

He’s practical, coming up with solutions to problems.

When the fight's over, he hugs you and kisses your forehead, relieved to be out of that situation.

Can he stay mad for days? Depends on the problem, but he’d prefer it doesn't last more than a day.

— leo valdez;

Leo and you usually argue over small things because you have that kind of relationship where you bicker and tease for fun, but when things get serious, the arguments can get heated (get it? heated? laugh, please).

That’s when things get tough. He may seem easy-going, but Leo has a strong temper and is very stubborn when he's mad. Whatever made you really fight doesn't matter because he’ll be stuck on his point.

"No, that's not how it happened." You could be contradicting each other all day until you both turn away and stop talking.

"Well, screw you!" you say, and he growls back, "Yeah, you too," swearing in Spanish. "vale ma-" "me lleva la ch-"

Yes, he switches languages mid-sentence.

"I already told you no! CUANTAS VECES TENGO QUE DECIRLO, carajo!-"

If you know Spanish, you can reply; if not...

"I don’t understand you, idiot. Say it in English or fuck yourself ." (just in case because you’re not sure what he said)

Swearing is common if he's really mad, but it's more his way of dealing with it than being mad at you.

That or sharp sarcasm.

Yes, he might cry if the argument is really bad.

His rigid feelings and insecurity can come up.

Leo is attached, so he’s constantly thinking of ways to fix it because he can’t stand being away from you for too long.

He keeps his distance, terrified of hurting you with his powers, which makes him nervous. "No, DON’T COME NEAR ME." It's for your safety, but it hurts him to see the look in your eyes when he says it.

Can he stay mad for days? Absolutely, but he misses you a lot, though his pride might keep him from showing it.

Don’t worry, he’ll eventually sit down to talk it out, and you’ll both calm down and fix things.

Then he'll give you a big hug and kiss your cheeks.

— frank zhang:

it’s hard to imagine: WHAT DID YOU DO TO FIGHT?

Yes, Frank is Mars’s son, but he’d never choose the battlefield for his lover. He’s very careful and always considerate, but yeah he can be severe when things get bad, and when isn't enough just have a serious talk.

You end up fighting in not-so-quiet whispers, with your faces and gestures being the most expressive.

"Of course not, I already told you, hey!" He raises his hands, and his body tenses up threateningly.

Frank tries to understand your point and make himself heard, always mindful of both your feelings. He knows how to set boundaries.

Sometimes, he just can’t take it anymore and signals a pause. "You know what? This is getting too much, and neither of us is in the best shape. Let’s talk tomorrow or later, please."

Does he raise his voice? Hardly, only when he really needs to make a point.

His eyes are bright, tinged with sadness and anger. The deadliest is his calm face or the way he slightly curls his lip, almost growling.

His eyebrows always seem to be touching, even if he doesn’t want them to.

He keeps a cool head to solve things.

Can he stay mad for days? Yes, while clearing his mind and thinking. He’ll come up to you, and you’ll talk it out, making things work in the end.

He’ll take your hand. You might feel guilty for pushing a guy like Frank to his limit, but he doesn’t mind having relationship problems with you:

"I hope we fight many more times, but about totally different things because it means we’ve really solved the previous issues."

— percy jackson:

wtf did you both do to get into a fight?

Percy won't waste a second, trying to resolve it immediately by asking and reflecting on his own actions. "What did I do wrong?" if it was his fault. "Can you listen to me for a second?" if it was you.

He hates being mad at you, just can’t stand it. But if the fight starts, he wants to start or finish it (or both).

Yes, he might cry.

Yes, he might raise his voice. "No, I didn't do anything. LISTEN TO ME."

Then he apologizes for it because he lost it.

He tries to hold your hands and says, "Babe, babe…"

He makes you both breathe and talk calmly.

He argues, of course, but differently. He’ll stop the conversation. "You know what? I'll think about it." He leaves or makes you leave.

Consequently, he might stay mad for days, or both of you might be mad at each other, but he’s thinking of what to say rather than just calming down. (Nothing wrong with that, everyone handles feelings differently and that's valid.)

Yes, he asks his mom.

Yes, he asks Paul.

You both end up fixing things, and he hugs you tight, giving you kisses all over your face while pouting.

"I missed you, babe."

[letstrip13]

⛓️ - couple's costume

summary: when you and chris get home from a halloween party, you experiment a little

warnings: smut, use of handcuffs, oral m!recieving, no actual sex (p in v) also still wondering how that started

word count: 1,247

author's note: first halloween special fic!! sorry this ended up being late, i had so much to do and couldn't find any motivation to write. are we surprised i didn't stick to the schedule though? no ofc not! anyways the next fic should be out tomorrow

------------------------୨୧------------------------

you and chris enter your apartment hand-in-hand, both tired from the events of tonight. a friend of his had thrown a costume party and of course you guys wanted to go.

chris slumps down on the couch, letting out a fatigued sigh as he relaxes against the cushions. you kick your high-heeled boots off, glad to finally have that part of the costume off after the long night.

you sit down on the couch next to him, letting out an identical sigh and resting your head on his shoulder. the handcuffs attached to your costume made a sound, and as you sat down, it caught his attention. he runs his fingers over the cool metal, “hey d’you think these things really work?”

you shrug. “m'not sure. wanna try them?” he nods and takes them off the belt loop on your costume that they were attached to. you hold your wrists out in front of him and he carefully moves the metal to circle them and closes it, making sure it’s not too tight on you.

an excited grin takes over his face as ideas course through his mind. “put ‘em on me,” he suggests as he takes them off. you repeat what he did to you and this time you break out in a smile, the exhaustion from the party being forgotten.

the both of you get up and go into your bedroom. chris wastes no time and kisses you as he gets comfortable on your bed, pulling you down to straddle him with the handcuffs still in your hands.

he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, making you part your lips as his tongue explores your mouth. it's so familiar yet there's a different energy about it, knowing you're trying something new.

he leads the pace of the kiss, making sure to go slowly and take the time to get lost in the moment together. there's no rush here and you know it. he pulls away and reaches for the handcuffs that had since been abandoned on the bed. “can we try something?” he asks, almost shyly, a side to him you don't see often.

“what do you want?” “i want you to put them on me.. and you decide. do whatever you want to me.” your eyes light up with excitement. he's never let you be in charge before. “really?” he nods with a smile on his face as he passes you the handcuffs.

“can you take your costume off first?” he eagerly does as he's told, standing up and stepping out of the orange “prisoner” jumpsuit. you watch intently as he's now down to a white wife beater and his boxers. “get on the bed, my love,” you instruct him.

he sits on the bed, making himself comfortable up by the headboard. you straddle his lap, the handcuffs in hand. “are you ready?” “yes, go ahead.” you position his wrists and the handcuffs in a way where he's chained to the bed before securing it, being careful not to close them too tightly. “does that feel okay?” “yeah, perfect.”

you can tell by the way his hips are subtly moving that he's really turned on right now. that, and the bulge in his boxers that wasn't fully there a minute ago. you sit back on his lap in a comfortable position to kiss him. you take your time, starting with his lips then going along his jawline and neck, making sure to go over all those spots that drive him crazy.

you kiss a trail down his neck, then his chest, then his stomach, and finally his happy trail. this elicits a small but sharp groan from him, making it known that he craves more contact. “please-” he murmurs.

“i'm not done teasing you yet. i'm getting you back for all the times you did this to me, baby.” his head falls back as a whine escapes his lips. you run your hands up his thighs, even placing a few kisses on them, doing anything except touching him where he needs it most.

by this point, there's a large, wet patch on his boxers where precum had been leaking out. you run your finger over it, saying in a low voice, “making such a mess for me already.” he hisses at the contact. your fingers hook in the waistband of his underwear as you slowly pull them down his legs, his hard cock springing up to hit his stomach. precum continues to leak out of the tip and down the shaft as it practically throbs beneath your gaze, begging to be touched.

you teasingly blow cool air onto the tip, causing him to buck his hips up in response as a whimper leaves his mouth. you spit on it, watching it trickle down his cock for a moment before spreading it with your hand, stroking up and down at a pace that's almost painfully slow for him. “o-oh fuck, i-” he moans when you finally touch him. “you're not saying you’re close already, are you? i might have to stop.” he frantically shakes his head no, almost causing you to giggle.

with your hand still circling him, you lean down to teasingly lick the tip, earning a louder than expected groan from chris. you do it a few times before taking it into your mouth, being careful not to go any further. he bucks his hips again, causing you take a few inches into your mouth. you pull back and look into his eyes. “don't do that, baby, or i'll have to stop.” he sheepishly nods, “okay, i won't.”

you go right back to what you were doing, taking more into your mouth over time while working on the rest with your hand. every time you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull away just long enough for him to calm down before going right back to it.

he involuntarily bucks his hips again, forcing him deeper into your throat. you don't say anything, you just look up at him through your lashes. “m’sorry. i didn't mean to,” he rambles, “need more.” “you want more?” he nods. “okay, my love, i'll let you cum now.”

you take as much of him as you can, deepthroating him as he loudly moans. he can't control himself anymore, leading to him forcing his cock further down your throat. you try your hardest not to gag as he fills your throat, the both of you more focused on his pleasure.

before you know it, he's writhing and squirming on the bed, crying out your name as he shoots his load into your mouth. you swallow it all, continuing to suck him off more, wanting every last drop. he squirms at the sensitive feeling until it becomes too much, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “no more,” he whines. you respond by letting his softening dick out of your mouth with a soft pop.

“how was that, love?” you ask as you reach up to free him from the handcuffs. “s-so good,” he says breathlessly. you toss them on your nightstand and you take a moment to lay there with your head on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and plays with your hair.

you break the silence after a few minutes, sitting up. “let's get you cleaned up.” he sits up with a yawn, sleepily mumbling something unintelligible as the both of you go into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

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[anantaru]

i‘m just thinking about friends with benefits with kaeya and having a no kissing rule 😫

・✶ ｡ synopsis — the cavalry captain and you had a secret agreement going on, with one of the rules being called the "no kissing rule" <3

warnings — fwb, lots of tension, experienced kaeya, sub reader, fem! reader

to keep things short, you and kaeya had a special agreement, with no strings attached nor any unnecessary feelings involved.

sounds easy, correct? well, if it wasn't for one notable thing.

to keep it short, there was one rule: no kissing under any circumstances, it was a line the both of you drew to keep things from becoming way too complicated in your "relationship", most importantly to ensure that feelings stayed out of the equation.

it's supposed to be focused on just the physical part and kaeya had no troubles agreeing to it right away, although he did it with his usual, playful smirk and a glint in his eye that promised mischief.

and well, tonight was no different, really, the two of you met up and the thick tension and anticipation flowed into the usual way to end the night— with the wind singing and the moonlight filtering through the window, casting a soft glow on your naked bodies.

the ambience was charged, the anticipation for feeling pleasure hanging in the air as you reached for each other in hunger— and ugh, kaeya's touch was just so electrifying, you get warm all over as his fingers trace patterns on your flesh that made you shiver right away and shake beneath his chest.

after all, the cavalry captain was known for his fearlessness and playfully persona, hence why behind closed doors, he moved with a confidence that spoke of experience and craving, every gesture calculated to draw out the maximum amount of pleasure from your body.

it feels good, almost too good— you can barely hold your moans back as they drizzled through your parted lips, followed by precious utters of his name in combination with your hips grinding up to meet his thrusts halfway, your inner thighs messily slicked up with your arousal as it dripped all over his balls.

yet, there was a tenderness in the way he held you, a subtle hint of something more beneath the surface— it's weird and confusing, switching between fucking you mercilessly but holding your head ever so tenderly so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

kaeya slants forward now, his breath warm against your ear, "remember the rule?" he whispers, his voice husky as your walls squeeze and loosen with every thrust and push of his erection.

"no kissing, yeah?"

you nod obediently, your heart pounding.

kaeya continues, "repeat it," as his voice buzzes off your skin. the cavalry captain finds the look on your face cute, slightly dazed and a little confused, but adorable despite that.

"no— no kissing," you repeat as he clicks his tongue in agreeance, "good girl,"

and kaeya can feel it, right there, how your wetness was beginning to gather all over his pelvis as he pressed you deeper into the mattress— he knows what it does to you, what he could spark inside of you as it was easy to lose yourself in the sensation of him, forcing yourself to focus on the physical and ignore the emotional.

his touch was everywhere, his scent serving as an aphrodisiac as a dizzying blend of pleasure left you gasping for breath. continuously, kaeya pushed you to your limits, abruptly pulling your legs up against his shoulders before his forehead knocks against yours, his touch being both gentle and demanding, ruthless and, well, loving?

whatever that meant, his real intentions could never leave his lips in comparision to his delirious grunts escaping his throat like a bold of lightning as kaeya dreams of a moment to one night— just taste your lips for one time, just once.

he promises that after he feels them on his own he could go back to how things were before, truly, maybe, not for one moment.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[akutasoda]

Heyeyey can I request boothill, Sunday and aventurine with a fem s/o who’s always on her phone? Like even when it’s charging or even when they’re cuddling she just has to be on her phone?

screentime overload

synopsis - how are they with a s/o who cannot put their phone down?

includes - aventurine, sunday, boothill

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns used), fluff, crack, wc - 721

aventurine ★↷

↪he can be a bit of a fifty fifty when it comes to his phone. normally the only time he uses it is for IPC relevant things, messaging you or ratio and if he's really bored, mindless scrolling. his work can keep him rather busy and so he doesn't exactly have the time to sit around all day.

↪so he found it quite amusing to a degree when he noticed how absorbed you were in your phone. it really didn't take long for him to notice how you practically treated it as a lifeline because no matter where you were your phone was near aswell - more accurately near to your line of sight.

↪it did bring him some comfort in knowing that you would always see his messages because he could always take an accurate guess that you were on your phone and able to respond as quick as possible.

↪however he did find it quite ridiculous that sometimes he'd find you curled up by your charger, phone still in hand. surely you had other things to be doing? maybe you're phone needed a break from you eventually?

↪it didn't bother him per say, but he would prefer it if, when he saw you after a while, that you actually make the effort to pry your gaze from your phone and to him.

↪sometimes he can be quite the menace, especially when, in the morning, you wake up and search for your phone but don't get very far as aventurine would have you in a near death grip hug.

sunday ★↷

↪definitely isn't a phone kind of person. sure he has one but it's mainly for work or managing the dreamscape and most likely only had a couple of actual contacts - yours and robins. he probably could go very happily without his phone.

↪and so he truly doesn't understand why you're so attached to yours. at first he thought that you probably had something going on that needed managing, but when he saw you day in and day out staring down at your screen, he got slightly worried and confused.

↪it baffled him that you could actually spend so much time staring down at that screen but eventually he started getting more concerned that you were causing permanent damage to your eyes. he's the type of person who would tell you about the damage phones can do to you when he sees you laser focused on your phone.

↪in a similar way, he does find a slight comfort in knowing that if he needs to reach you he can. the one day you don't actually get his messages and respond very quickly is the day he panics.

↪sunday isn't exactly the keenest when it comes to physical affection, but when he does come around and finally gets time off to spend with you, he does not want you on your phone for that. if you get unlucky he might start contemplating hiding your phone.

boothill ★↷

↪another fifty fifty. he isn't exactly literate and so any messages are sent via voice recordings and such, this also probably means that he doesn't spend that much time on his phone in general - especially as a galaxy ranger who has bounties to hunt instead.

↪that being said, his phone gets put through the wringer alot. it isn't exactly his top priority in keeping safe when on a mission, so he either loses it or it gets very badly damaged to the point that sometimes you can't even tell it was meant to be a phone.

↪so he did struggle a bit to to comprehend how and why you spent so much time on your phone. he only started getting annoyed when he realised that your phone was robbing him from your affection and time. boothill did once threaten to eat your phone.

↪he still finds it very ridiculous that you spend so much time in your phone, especially when he has caught you multiple times using your phone while it's charging or when you really shouldn't be.

↪but he doesn't mind too much as long as you actually still give him some affection and don't spend that time with your phone in hand again - especially when he gets time to return to you after hunting a bounty or two.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[sexilene]

lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!

ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹

you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b. 

he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath. 

you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds. 

when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip. 

watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....

that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.

the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside. 

the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you. 

you nod your head slowly, chest heaving. 

"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle. 

"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared. 

"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly. 

"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him. 

you whine as he brings the knife up to your face. 

"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"

you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy. 

"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl. 

"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying. 

"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt. 

"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy. 

"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal. 

"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy. 

"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him. 

"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels. 

"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall. 

"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood. 

"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table. 

he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder. 

he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in. 

"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face. 

"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly make you cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.

"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy. 

after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips. 

"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.

"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away.  ᥫ᭡

[princessbrunette]

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃a continuation from the rafe and puppy universe…(click me) ࣪

rafe doesn’t always treat puppy!reader so nicely. infact, sometimes she really tests his patience.

he drags you through the front door to tannyhill with a hand wrapped around your arm — thick gold rings wound round his fingers undoubtedly leaving bruises in their wake as he yanks you inside. you can’t keep up with his long strides, tripping over and having the eldest cameron repeatedly carry the entirety of your weight with his hand everytime you stumbled— wrenching you back to your feet.

whilst this occurs, he lectures you through grit teeth — at the end of his tether. “what’d i tell you huh? what’d i fuckin’ tell you ‘bout manners?” he asks and you’re not sure if it’s rhetorical, letting him march you up the stairs to his bedroom.

“its no big deal—” you hiccup through pained whines as you try to pull away from his stern grip, only making him tighten it.

“nah, nah — you knew exactly what you were doing at the country club. running that mouth when i — i specifically told you to behave today.”

there had been a very high class event, ward forcing rafe to take you along to get you accustomed to the kook-lifestyle after so long of slumming it at the other side of the island. you were ditsy, but not dumb — you saw the way the camerons looked at you, with pity — like you simply weren’t made for this world. thats why you got so attached to rafe, he didn’t pity you. it was tough love, so you assumed — the boy constantly lecturing and berating you but would be the first to save you from any potentially damaging or dangerous situations, and god forbid anyone spoke to you as poorly as he did.

the afternoon was unsavable from the start. you may have been responsible for the large chocolate fountain at the food table falling, you’d accidentally insulted the president of the country club to his face, you’d mistakenly smeared food on the back of rafe’s shirt, and when rafe was rightfully lecturing you for that — you bit him. you bit him infront of one of the important businessmen he had been trying to impress. you understood his anger for once, you’d messed up.

he tosses you onto his bed making you stumble onto it, turning around to watch the way the boy angrily rifles through his dresser drawers, furiously continue to ramble at you. “you know i’ve been saving this, yeah — saving this from when you really messed up. ‘cos i knew you would. you’re a pogue, and you’ll always be one. and — and i’ve been here, tryna look after the runt of the litter — and yet you still disrespect me.” he shakes his head and you watch forlornly, watching him find what he was looking for and begin to pull it out.

“well you wanna run that mouth? wanna— wanna bite me in public? i’m gonna have t’treat you like the dirty pogue puppy you are— okay? didnt wanna have to do this kid but you leave me no choice. s’gotta be me to discipline you, alright? c’mere.” in his hand, you instantly recognise to be some form of muzzle. like the type you’d see on a dog, but this time perfectly crafted to fit a female face. you’d had no idea where he’d got such a cruel item, he had to have had it custom made just to shut you up, a sick fantasy he’d been sitting on. you cower, and he’s unphased.

he undoes the buckles on the side so that he can put it on you, but not before yanking your hands to his belt and leaving them there. “undo this. you’re gonna wear this, n’then you’re gonna let me take what i want from you. a’ight? i’m in charge. you’re gonna learn your damn lesson whether you like it or not.”

you whine as you obey him, trembling fingers fumbling for his belt. the worst part about this, was that you couldn’t deny your arousal. the manhandling, the degrading — you were a sensitive girl, who had sensitive needs, but something about the boy you had such a crush on, the same boy who would deny reluctantly cuddling you to sleep when you had a bad dream that one time, treating you so mean was making your cunt ache with need.

“i’m not gonna bite, i just want to kiss again.” you wail weakly as he brings the muzzle to your face, scoffing out a chuckle that read directly as ‘fat fucking chance’. rafe had kissed you a few times. moments of weakness. he couldn’t deny his feelings for you but — well, actually yes he could. he did deny his feelings for you, and often too. he was head over heels and he didn’t like that.

“kiss? you— you think you deserve a kiss after the way you behaved today?” once the muzzle is fastened and you’re staring up at him with big watery puppy dog eyes, he finishes up with yanking off his belt and undoing his zipper, trying to ignore how your pitiful expression looked. rafe was mean but he wasn’t an idiot— he knows you didn’t mean to be the way you were. you were innocent, naive — but god if taking advantage of that didn’t get him off.

his heart twinges at the sorry look on your face so he flips you over onto your front on the bed, body sprawled out and bouncing from the force. “nah…” he answers his own question as he tugs your dress up your back to reveal your soaked through panties between trembling thighs. he thumbs at the wet patch above where your hole sits meanly, scoffing. “you’re gonna shut up and take this dick. maybe then you’ll get your damn kiss.”

[vampiree-555]

"Please, I need it."

c.s - drvgdealer

contains: smut , slight(?) angst , mentions of weed , degradation , pet names

It was a long day. One of the more excruciating days I'd had in a while. I'd gotten home and immediately rushed for my stash of weed that I kept in the underwear drawer of my dresser. I was so excited to finally be able to relax and take the edge off until I saw the empty container that I kept my weed in.

"Shit." i whined to myself.

I gritted my teeth as I knew what I had to do, though I desperately did not want to do it.

My dealer was one of the hottest people I'd ever laid my eyes on... but he was scary as hell. He knew how I felt about him so anytime we would meet, he'd always keep it short and simple. Though last time, we had a bit of an argument.

{flashback}

"Thanks Chris." I took the small baggie from his hand but he didn't let it go. He stared at me with his intense and cold blue eyes that pierced daggers into you. I stared back at him with my eyes wide and my breathing had obviously gotten heavier.

"Why don't you like me, y/n? I don't know if you've noticed this, but I always under charge you, I give you extra, and I'm nice to you. Which is not something I always do. So why don't you like me?" He spoke in a monotonous tone yet I could tell by his eyes he was angry.

"I've been your dealer for 2 years and you never text me unless you need weed, y/n." I shook my head and slightly chuckled nervously.

"That's what dealers are for, Chris. I'm your customer. I'm not your girlfriend." his grip on my hand tightened as I spoke. I saw him clench his jaw and grit his teeth. He laughed softly and threw my hand down along with the baggie.

"Find a new dealer. I'm done with you." he turned his back away and walked into the night, not knowing where he was headed.

I picked up my phone hesitantly and opened his contact. I know he said he was done with me but I secretly knew he didn't mean it.

ׂ╰┈➤ texting

y/n ; hey. i need stuff..

Chris🚬 ; i thought i said i was done w u y/n.

y/n ; you did , srry but im out nd need more

Chris🚬 ; ur killing me y/n l/n

y/n ; thx chris

I smiled to myself as i set my phone down. I had a weird attachment to him. I liked him as a brother... I thought.

I changed into more appropriate clothes for meeting Chris. My white tank, black zip up hood, and my noticeably short jean shorts. He liked when I showed off my ass and as an apology for last time, I did just that.

Soon I heard my front door open and I rolled my eyes. He always walked into my apartment like he owned the place.

"Where you at ma?" my heart beat out my chest once I heard his voice. I was nervous to see him again. I took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room where he made himself comfortable on my couch.

"I'm right here, no need to yell." I said playfully at him. He looked me up and down before softly biting his lip and looking up at me with his piercing and narrow blue eyes. The way he looked at me really got to me somehow. I could feel my cheeks flush and I couldn't stop my small smile from forming on my lips.

I sat next to him on the couch and could feel his eyes on my ass while i sat. I narrowed my eyes at him and he scoffed before looking away from my gaze.

"You know just how to make me feel better baby." he spoke so softly you could miss it, but it was so quiet in that room you couldn't not hear his every move.

He pulled my usual amount that I bought from him out his hoodie pocket and threw it on the table. I slid him the cash and he stared at the bills for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. That's not what I want." He looked at me and I tilted my head in a confused manner. He sucked on his teeth before a small smirk formed on his face. He leaned in closer to me where his lips were barely brushing my ear.

"I want you, mama." I leaned back from him with my eyebrows furrowed.

"Chris," He didn't let me get another word out before he crashed our lips together in a possessive rage, for some odd reason, I didn't pull back. I let him kiss me, and I kissed back.

He held his hand on the back of my neck to deepen the kiss and let his free hand roam my waist. In a quick motion he turned us so that my back was pushed against the couch and he leaned over me.

He kissed down my neck which tended to be more sensitive and I let it be known with the small noises that escaped from my lips. I felt him smirk against my fragile skin and let him snake his hands down my waist, and to my thighs. He swiped off his shirt and let me sit up to do the same while he bent down to unbutton my shorts and throw them across the room, along with my underwear, I did the same with my shirt and Chris with his own clothing.

I felt the ocean that formed in my panties once he undressed me and apparently Chris did as well.

"Already so wet for me? hm?" his hand trailed down to my soaking cunt and he rubbed circles around my clit with his thumb while with his other hand, he entered his middle and ring finger, curling them against my G-spot causing loud moans and whines to escape my lips.

"f-fuck~ feels so good.." I heard his godforsaken chuckle as he listened to the sweet noises that escaped my glistening, plump lips. He removed his fingers and jammed them into my mouth.

"Suck." and I did just that. I stared at him with my pleading and desperate eyes as he looked down at me, like I was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen, yet his eyes were also filled with infatuation and desire.

He removed his fingers from my mouth and spit into that same hand, stroking himself before pressing his tip against my core slightly teasing me. I whined and looked at him with my puppy eyes before he scoffed into the air.

"Don't look at me like that y/n. You have no idea what you do to me." The last part was just barely a breath, I almost missed it.

He slowly began to enter into my core, his own grunts and groans mixed with mine, filling the air with a wave of ecstasy.

He pushed himself in slowly before pulling out to where his tip was just barely at my entrance before slamming his hips into mine. I let out a loud scream like moan as he continued at a fast and hard pace. A rhythm at which I'd never seen or felt before.

"h-holy fuck~" At this point my brain had turned into mush as my only point of focus was Chris and how he made me feel in that moment. I instinctively arched my back as I felt the all-to-familiar knot form in my stomach. Chris could tell I was getting close, and obviously had no intention on slowing down.

"m' close.." I moaned out. I looked at Chris after having my eyes closed for nearly the whole time out of pure pleasure. He was staring down at me with complete anger in his eyes and my heart started to race in my chest.

"You're such a fucking slut. All you do is fuck for drugs. You're mine y/n. All fucking mine." Chris spoke through clenched teeth. I would be lying if I said that didn't make me inch closer to my climax.

Chris then pulled out just as quickly as he entered inside of me and began gathering all of his clothes, putting them back on piece my piece. I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. My chest was rising and falling and my skin glistened due to sweat under the warm light.

"Chris wha-" I was cutoff once more by an aggressive kiss from the man once he got all his clothes on, followed by a soft slap across my face.

"Don't text me again." And with that, he left my apartment, slamming the door behind him.

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

[chosopie]

DEALER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

cw: mentions of drugs

“It’s twenty thousand yen now,” you puff a ring of smoke to his scrunched up face.

“What the fuck? It was only ten thousand last time. Are you trying to fuck with me?” Sukuna clicked his tongue and looked away, trying his best to contain his frustration.

“Supply is getting expensive and I’ve got bills to pay,” you sighed.

“I don’t got enough on me right now,” he dug his hands into his pockets. “Can’t you give me a discount, doll? I’m a loyal customer.”

Doll. Did he really think he could sweet-talk his way out of this?

“No.”

“Come on,” Sukuna moved closer, placing his hand on the side of your arm and running them up and down. “Ten thousand and a little something else.”

You laughed. “What could that possibly be?”

Despite your desire for money, there were other things you desperately wanted. You were searching for a different kind of high no other drug could give you.

Sukuna’s face was now buried between your thighs while you were seated on the back seat of his car. His tongue aggressively swiped your folds, licking every droplet of your sweet juice. He was attached to your the same way a bee would be attached to a flower, drinking up the nectar until it was full; except, he was never full. He knew no limits.

If there was one thing Sukuna was known for, it was his appetite. He wasn’t just a foodie, he was also a munch. He ate you out like a starved man. He would nip and suck on your aching clit, leaving you shaking and breathless. Your hands gripped his messy pink hair and tugged on them while his name dripped out of your mouth along with some breathy moans.

You were so overwhelmed with pleasure, you felt your legs grow weak. You tried to close them, but Sukuna would force them open again. Every time you’d move, he’d stop and bite on the plump flesh of your thigh, leaving red teeth marks on them.

“So close to cumming,” you panted, drool running down your lip.

Sukuna smirked and wiped the spit off the corner of your lip. “Guess you didn’t need the other ten thousand after all.”

“Shut up. I’m charging you more next time.”

“Sure you will,” he rolled his eyes and chuckled.

His pace had quickened, and he put more pressure onto your poor clit. He kept licking and sucking, your juice smeared all over the bottom half of his face. His hands were firmly planted on your thighs, gripping them so tight his nails started digging into your skin. Your eyes were shut as you felt your climax coming, a warm and tight feeling swirled around your stomach and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. Sukuna groaned against your core, his tongue quickly working its way around your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘Kuna. Can’t hold it anymore.”

“Just cum on my face, pretty girl.”

Sukuna pushed his face deeper, his nose slightly nudging you while he continued to drag his tongue across your pussy. You moaned and squirmed as you reached your high, making a mess on Sukuna’s pretty face, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m looking forward to our next deal,” Sukuna winked at you and slipped another roll of cash into your pocket.

tags: @torureadz

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! Would it be okay to request Dad!Sebastian and Young!Reader?

Reader is a juvenile expendable who’s doing their best to survive (and one day leave) the Hadal Blacksite. Sebastian doesn’t outright say it, but through the little things he does for you, it shows that he cares and is actually really worried about your well-being—he’s quick to brush it off or deny it when you confront him.

He’s quick to swoop you up in whatever room you’re in when you start to get sleepy, he gives you little freebies behind other Expendables’ backs and phrases it as “it’s broken anyway, I’m just throwing away scraps” but it’s in REALLY good condition, wordlessly hands you wall dweller chunk when you enter his shop, stuff like that.

He’s also really pissed off that Urbanshade would allow someone this young to risk their life, even if Reader is like, a year away from legal age.

Just protective Dad!Sebastian who denies it at first but slowly admits to caring for you

The first time Sebastian meets you is when you met your first death to the Angler--as most expendables did.

And the first thing he immediately realizes is how young you are.

From across the table, he could see you in the baggy prisoner uniform, the PDG looking awfully heavy on your back.

Before he even explains how your deaths reveal more information on the entity that killed you, how you'll eventually meet him further in the blacksite, etc....he asks how old you are.

When you nervously tell him you're 14-15 years old, he doesn't know what to say.

A teenager, a literal child...was incarcerated and subjected to Urbanshade's cruelty.

You ended up being with the wrong crowd and got in trouble with the law over a misdemeanor, and yet...you're being punished on the same level as the many older and sicker criminal scumbags.

If anyone deserved to be suffering down here, it should be them. Not you.

"Kid, do you even know what you signed up for?"

"...yes. If I find this crystal, I'll get my freedom. That's what they told me. I-I didn't know about the monsters, though."

"Yeah, they don't mention that in the description 'cause it deters people from signing up. But I can help you with that part."

And thus begins the introverted fishman unofficially adopting you as his kid.

In many ways, you remind Sebastian of his siblings, so he gets to sorta relive that through taking care of you and ensuring you don't die as frequently as the other expendables.

He never says it, but he lowkey spoils you.

He'll pawn off "faulty" equipment to you, claiming he's getting rid of "useless scrap", but they all turn out to be in perfect condition.

You could get fully charged light sources with battery packs attached in one run, discounts on medkits in the next, and even the "upgraded" gummylight (the one used in the Raveyard expedition) that stays lit for longer.

If you get tired of running from the anglers or need to close your eyes after meeting Eyefestation, he'll let you rest in his shop for some time.

Ever complained of hunger even a little? Next time you walk into his shop, he conveniently has some wall dweller chunks available.

You wonder why he's so nice to you compared to all the other monsters...but he acts like he doesn't know what you're talking about, always having some excuse.

"Look, that wall dweller flesh would've gone bad in the next few hours. Can't let the only food you guys are willing to eat go to waste."

"What? No, I totally didn't go out of my way to get the better gummylight for you. One of the idiot leaders of the rave expedition left theirs unattended."

In the end, you learn to just accept his kind gestures and nothing more, relieved that he's looking out for your well-being.

It's also his way of coping with the injustice of Urbanshade putting you through all of these horrors on your own.

If he could do something to alleviate your stress and anxiety...why not?

[tubatwo]

(숩) home - choi soobin

summary: your first time dealing with a sulky, jealous soobin

pairing: gn reader x choi soobin

genre: fluff.. slight angst?; 1.2k words

tonight was another dorm movie night planned with the boys. taehyun was in charge of picking the movie, beomgyu and kai were in charge of making the popcorn, yeonjun was in charge of setting up the living room, and soobin… well soobin was in charge of just being attached to you.

ㅤ

ㅤ

“how much longer are you going to make y/n carry your 6-foot ass?” yeonjun asks while placing a variety of drinks on the table. you hear beomgyu and kai cackle from the kitchen, and taehyun lets out a soft chuckle himself. soobin was currently wrapped around you like a koala, waddling around with you as you tried to help the boys set up.

“they’re not even carrying me!” soobin exclaims, “and they don’t mind either... right baby?” you chuckle and shake your head. “no, I don’t mind at all.” soobin makes a face at the others and finally releases himself from you. “I have to use the bathroom really quick!” he kisses your cheek and walks towards the bathroom.

beomgyu and kai return from the kitchen and place bowls of popcorn on the table. “yah, y/n, I don’t know how you deal with him.” beomgyu teasingly looks at you with pity. kai nods in agreement, “I can’t believe he’s even showing this much pda around us, it’s almost adorable.” he says. “that means he’s too comfortable with us, we should change that.” taehyun chimes in, making everyone laugh.

“guys, leave him alone,” you whine, “it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” yeonjun walks up to you and dramatically grabs both of your hands. “and what about us y/n? did you not miss your sweet junie?” you all start giggling as the rest of the boys join in and start doing aegyo. “yeah! what about your cutie beombu, hmm?” soon the room goes silent as you hear the bathroom door close. soobin walks in giving death glares to everyone in the room, except you, of course. “papa rabbit has arrived, guys.” taehyun says playfully.

“leave y/n alone, seriously,” soobin walks over to separate you and yeonjun, “you all are a bunch of pests.”

eventually, you all sit down to finally watch the movie. there was no actual hostility in the room, and the boys were just teasing soobin. he knew that. it wasn’t anything new, but sometimes you would glance over at him to find an unreadable expression on his face.

later that night, you and soobin are both sitting on his bed after finishing up your skincare routines. you get ready to turn off the table lamp until you notice him sulking. “hey, what’s wrong?” you ask. he glances at you before responding, “nothing…” you can tell that he’s not actually upset with you. you’ve comforted him enough times to know when he’s truly struggling with something, but still, you know that there’s something on his mind.

you slowly crawl into his lap and see him turn his head in the opposite direction. “baby? honey?” you tickle his sides softly, smiling as you watch him try his hardest not to smile. “I know you’re not actually upset with me,” you begin, “you’re sulking about something.” you wrap your arms around his neck and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “please tell me, bunny.” the nickname makes his lips twitch as he finally looks over at you. “i’m mad at yeonjun.”

your eyes widen for a second before asking, “what? why?” his pout deepens. “he was flirting with you…” a small chuckle slips out of your mouth, causing him to sulk again and try to get up. “no, no, i’m sorry.” you wrap your arms even tighter around him, preventing him from leaving. “I won’t laugh anymore, I promise.”

“but…” you begin, “what about beomgyu? you aren’t mad at him?” you ask. soobin thinks for a second. “i’ve learned to tune him out...” he admits, making you both giggle.

this was your first time seeing soobin jealous, and you could tell that he didn’t exactly know how to handle it. truthfully, you didn’t either. part of you thought that it was cute, definitely a little funny considering it was about yeonjun, but you also knew that soobin was an overthinker. you knew that you had to put an end to whatever he was thinking before it went too far.

“you know they weren’t really flirting, right?” you ask quietly, not wanting to make the mood too awkward. “they do it to be funny, or mess with you, that’s all.” soobin nods and looks down, suddenly becoming more interested in a stray thread on your pajama pants.

“could you wrap your arms around me, please?” you ask, you’d been sitting on his lap the entire time while his arms were off to the side. he looks at you and immediately relaxes after seeing your eyes full of adoration. even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. he wraps his arms around you and sighs in content.

“I love you, soobin.” you stroke his cheek softly. “the love of my life. my entire world. I know the boys are just messing with you and deep down you know it too, but even if it were a stranger on the street, I still wouldn’t pay them any mind.” you explain to him. “there’s no need, because I have everything i’ve ever dreamed of right here.”

“you are the only one I love, yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.” you finish. soobin buries his head in your neck as you slip your hands under his shirt to rub circles on his back. “my soob, my home.” soon enough, you feel tears on your shoulder and soobin’s body starting to shake. “oh baby... hey, please look at me...” you lift his head and the sight nearly makes you melt. a red nose, puffy cheeks, and tear-stained eyes staring back at you with all the love in the world. you wipe his tears as he apologizes.

“i’m sorry.” he sniffles. “don’t apologize.” you reassure him, trying not to cry yourself. “no really, I overreacted and I just-” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “it wasn’t about yeonjun… I was just scared of losing you.” he explains. a few seconds pass before he continues. “for a split second, I imagined a moment where you really left me for someone else… and it absolutely killed me.” soobin chokes up once again. “and here you are… treating me so gently… like i’m the most precious thing on earth… I just started getting emotional.”

“I really love you,” he confesses, “I love you so much, baby.” at this point, your attempts to stay sane are thrown out the window. “noooo, angel…” he frowns at the sight of you crying, wiping your tears just like you wiped his. “i’m sorry.” he whines. you give him a knowing look and he chuckles. “right, no apologizing!”

after a while of sniffling and wiping tears, you stare at each other. the room is silent. nothing matters except you two and the love you share. eventually, he leans in and kisses your lips. “thank you for cherishing me.” he whispers. “it’s the easiest thing in the world, my love.” you kiss his nose. “I promise that I would never go anywhere.” you crawl back under the covers and finally turn the lamp off. the night ends peacefully with soobin placing soft kisses down your neck and wrapped around you like a koala once again.

[screeching-bunny]

I’m not sure if you accept thirst asks, but if you do, then, goshhhh imagine giving ‘it’ to one of your concubines and they just keep repeating the words “Thank you thank you thank you” as they suck and lap at your 🫢. They repeat the words like a prayer, almost as if they were worshipping a god (you).

But if don’t accept thirst asks then please feel free to ignore if this ever makes you uncomfortable.

Yandere! Concubine Harem Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’ NSFW!!! MINORS DNI. This is my first time writing nsfw content so it’s kinda bad 💀.

In a magnificent office filled with many luxuries sat a grand ruler by their desk surrounded by towering piles of paperwork. The ruler's regal figure was draped in a robe of royal purple, adorned with gold trimmings, symbolizing their authority and power. As the sun's rays filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow upon the room, you sighed wearily, with brows furrowed with the weight of your responsibilities. All was quiet but if someone listened closely they could hear the faint sound of slurping.

“Can’t you be quieter? Can’t you see I’m trying to get some of my work done!?”

Beneath you and between your legs was your consort on his knees. He was undressed and was as naked as the day he was born. The man was known for his fierceness and cold heart was currently panting under you like a dog. The sounds of gasps and moans could be heard coming from the man. Currently his lips were red and swollen from the rough treatment that you have given him. Saliva dripped down his mouth as he was desperate to have a taste of you. He sucked and licked as if you were the only source of water he had in years. There was a look of desperateness in his eyes, it made you chuckle at how pathetic he looked. A constant mumbling of “thank yous” came from him each time he had a chance to breathe air.

The consort, whose name you couldn’t have bothered to remember, was as hard as a rock. Having enough of how slow this was going you decided to throw him down onto a couch. You made your way on top of him, positioned yourself, and slammed down right onto his member.

“Ahhh, agh!!”

Tears leaked from his eyes as he began to tremble. Your arms were pressed firmly into the cushions as you made your fierce movements as he was beneath you. He was huge and swollen within you. You began to rock your hips continuously down on him. His breathing became more harsh and stuttered. You leaned down and began to nibble down on his bottom lip. The kiss was very strong and aggressive. When your consort needed to breathe you made sure to slam your lips back on top of his again. His hands on your waist while your tongues intertwined with each other. Devastating pleasure overcame your consort. His eyes were hazy and you could feel a pump of warm liquid form inside of you. When you released from the kiss his mouth was red and swollen with a string of saliva attaching the two of you.

“Ah, ah, agh!!”

“I can’t believe you came from a kiss. Ugh whatever, a few of my advisors will be here any minute. If they catch us doing this, I won't be letting you off easy tonight.”

It was safe to say that the advisors were never allowed entrance into your study due to… your other matters. However, the next day whenever the maids came near that room, their faces would instantly turn bright red. The sounds that came from that room yesterday were definitely something else and they couldn’t help but blush from it. They just couldn’t believe it went on for an entire day! The good thing was that at least the maids that were in charge of cleaning up your mess got a massive raise but holy cow did you really have to break a sofa?!?! The only thing that they could do was pray for your poor consort.

[nahoney22]

Oooo, I'm excited for your celebration!!! Congratulations!

Clone: Commander Wolffe

List: NSFW 🔞

Prompts: D17 with S20

Proof of age: I saw Jedi in the theater when it released in 1983. The Rancor will always be my fave creature in the SW universe.

Congrats again! Can't wait to see what you come up with!!

@dreamie411

Make Up Your Mind*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Commander Wolffe X Female!Reader

word count: 3k

Prompts:

• “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that other guys name.”

• “Stars, you're so much better than the last person I was with."

When Wolffe finally had enough of letting you slip into hands that weren’t his own, he makes sure to remind you who you really belong to.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, explicit sexual content and language, mutual pining, minor alcohol consumption, flirting, reader is implied to have done hook-ups before, rough kissing, nudity, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Wolffe, creampie, confessions of feelings, friends to lovers, tender aftercare.

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait @dreamie411, hope this is okay. 🩵

As you stand behind the bar at 79’s, wiping down the surface, you hear a gravelly voice that you recognise all too well. One would assume it was any of the Clones, but there was something different about the Commander that you just could tell the difference with.

You glance up, locking eyes with the man who has spent far too much time lingering around this bar, and a smirk tugs at your lips. Commander Wolffe is eyeing you with the same intensity he always does, though there’s something unmistakably different in the way he’s watching you now.

“What did you get up to last night?” he asks, voice low but edged with curiosity—or maybe something more.

You raise an eyebrow, already knowing that he’s fully aware of what you were up to. After all, he’d spent the better part of the night silently fuming as you entertained the advances of a flirtatious patron, someone who might’ve turned into a one-night fling if the mood had struck you. You’ve always been casual about these things—no strings attached, just a bit of fun. But judging by Wolffe’s barely-concealed irritation, it’s clear he wasn’t thrilled watching you entertain someone else.

“Just this… and that,” you answer with a cheeky grin, moving away briefly to serve a trooper from the 212th. When you return, Wolffe is still leaning against the bar, his eyes following your every move. You tilt your head, feigning nonchalance. “Why do you ask?”

He swirls the ice in his empty glass, the tension in his shoulders visible even in the dim strobe lights. “Can’t a man be curious?”

Your gaze sharpens with mischief. “Depends. Not many men are curious about my sex life unless it’s for a reason.”

His jaw clenches ever so slightly, and you relish the way your words get under his skin. There’s a charge in the air between you, a tension that neither of you has been willing to break. “Care for a refill?” you ask, the words slipping out smoothly.

Before he can respond, you reach for his glass, brushing your fingers against his just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin. It’s a fleeting touch, but it sends a ripple through you that’s hard to ignore.

Admitted, you have thought about the idea of being with Wolffe before—how could you not? He’s rugged, disciplined, and there’s an undeniable magnetism in his reserved demeanor. And utterly sexy.

Yet, despite his clear jealousy, he’s never made a move. Maybe it’s the restraint that comes with his rank or the weight of his responsibilities, but it leaves you wondering if it’s just that what holds him back.

You pour him his usual drink, sliding it back across the bar before he can even reach for his credits. As he starts to pay, you place your hand over his, stopping him. “It’s on me, Commander,” you say with a wink.

Wolffe’s voice drops a notch, almost a murmur. “I want to give you something. You deserve it.”

You hum softly, leaning closer across the bar, teasing him with a slow, deliberate gaze that traces from his furrowed brow down to the scar that cuts across his eye, finally resting on his tense, but oh-so-inviting lips. “And what do you think I deserve, hmm?” Your voice is a playful whisper, laced with just enough suggestion to make him falter.

For a brief moment, it’s as if time stops. Wolffe’s attention is locked entirely on your lips, on the way your breath gently fans against his face. The lights of the club dance across your features, casting you in a soft, almost hypnotic glow.

He’s caught, just for a second, torn between giving in to whatever’s been simmering between you two and holding himself back. But as much as he wants to close that distance, something pulls him away.

He takes his drink, your fingers slipping away from his as he steps back, eyes soft with something left unspoken. You watch him walk away, a sigh slipping from your lips.

When 79’s finally closes for the night, the hum of laughter and music fades into silence as you finish tidying up. The bar is empty, save for the clinking of glasses you swiped from tables and the faint buzz of neon lights overhead. You wave goodnight to the other workers as they exit through the back door, their voices echoing faintly down the corridor. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you begin locking up for the night, turning toward the entrance when you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze.

A knowing smirk pulls at your lips. You don’t need to turn around to recognise who it is. “We’re closed, you know,” you call out, your voice playful.

But when you finally do turn, you find Wolffe leaning against the bar, his back to you, shoulders tense. He doesn’t move at first, the muscles in his back taut under his armor as he collects his thoughts. Something about his posture is different tonight—more guarded, more intense. You step closer, curiosity mingling. “What is it, Commander?” you ask as you lean against the counter beside him.

He straightens up slightly, turning his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his stormy gaze. “I need to talk to you.”

There’s no hint of teasing in his tone, and the seriousness in his eyes causes your flirty retort to falter. You’ve never seen him this conflicted, this on edge and your smirk fades. “What’s going on?” you ask softly, cautious.

For a moment, he just stares at you, a battle clearly raging behind those eyes. And then, with a voice rougher than you’ve ever heard, he speaks. “You drive me mad, you know that?” frustration lacing every word. “Watching you, knowing you’re letting others close when all I can think about is how badly I want you. How I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit.”

Your breath catches, pulse quickening at the raw intensity of his confession. Wolffe steps closer, closing the distance between you in one stride, his eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m done holding back,” he says, voice dark and laced with that possessiveness you’ve always suspected simmered beneath. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about? About having you, in every way. About making sure you never forget it’s me you should belong to.”

The heat in his words draws something deep and electric from within you. “Wolffe…” you whisper, but it’s lost as he crowds you against the bar, his body radiating a warmth that sends your senses into overdrive. The look in his eyes is almost feral, desire mixed with a longing that makes your head spin.

His lips are on yours in an instant, rough and claiming, as though he’s been holding back for too long and can’t bear it any longer. You respond in kind, meeting his intensity, hands grasping at his armor as he presses you into the counter. The kiss is a clash of need and frustration, every pent-up emotion pouring into the way his mouth moves against yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for entry which you allow, your fingers tugging in his textured hair as his tongue dominates your own.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen from the fervour of it. “I’ll give you everything,” he whispers on your lips, voice a low rumble that reverberates through your chest.

There’s no hesitation in you now. You’ve wanted this just as much as he has, and the fact that he’s finally lost control is exhilarating. “Then show me, Commander,” you challenge.

That’s all the encouragement he needs. In a blur, he lifts you onto the bar, hands sliding possessively over your hips as he steps between your legs. The kiss that follows is deeper, more desperate, fueled by weeks—maybe months—of tension. His hands grip your waist with enough strength to leave marks, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

Wolffe’s lips leave a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moans, “You’re mine tonight. No one else. Just me.”

Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, drawing him closer and with a swift, practiced motion, he begins unbuckling his armour, peeling it off piece by piece while his gaze stays fixed on yours, dark with intent. There’s no room for hesitation, only pure, unfiltered desire.

You barely have time to catch your breath before his hands are on you again, yanking your workshirt over your head, fingers deftly working at your waistband before he slides your pants down and panties. The tension is almost unbearable as his calloused hands slide up your thighs, parting them with authority. His lips land on yours again, hungrier than before, biting gently on your lip as he frees himself from the confines of his uniform. When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, the air thick with want.

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” he mutters, voice low as his fingers slowly dip between your folds after getting your consent, finding you already slick with need. “You’re dripping for me already. You really want this, don’t you?”

You can’t help but moan softly as his fingers tease you, brushing over your clit before plunging inside. “I’ve wanted this as much as you have,” you manage to gasp, leaning back on your hands for support as his fingers begin to pump into you with a steady, ruthless rhythm.

“Good,” he groans, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Because you’re about to get exactly what you’ve been craving.” His thumb presses against your clit in tight circles as his fingers curl just right, hitting that spot that makes you shudder and arch against him.

You bite your lip, stifling the cry that threatens to spill out as your hips rock into his touch. The intensity of his gaze, the way he watches your every reaction—it’s overwhelming. “How’s that feel?” he taunts, voice thick with a mix of pride and lust. “Am I as good as you imagined?”

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you look down at him, voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. “Stars, you’re so much better than the last person I was with.”

That earns a deep, possessive moan from him, and his pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, harder. “You think I’m going to let you go to anyone else after this? Not a chance,” he hisses, clearly spurred on by your words. “I’m going to make sure I’m the only one you think about from now on.” His gaze is locked on your cunt as his fingers curl inside you

Your response is lost in a choked gasp as he withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving you momentarily empty. You whine at him for stopping but your words are caught in your mouth as you watch him pull his cock free, only for him to then line himself up against you. At first he teases your sentence pearl with his aching tip, feeling you shudder against him. Then, with one fluid thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you completely.

The stretch is intense, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. He feels perfect—thick and unyielding, just what you’ve been aching for. He groans, hips stuttering as he buries his face into your neck. Then he pulls back and cups your jaw with his hand, making sure every word he’s about to say sinks in; “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget that other guy’s name.”

The need between you both is primal, each thrust deep and purposeful as he claims you in the way he’s been fantasising about for far too long. His hands grip your hips with bruising force as he drives into you, the wet sound of your bodies moving together mingling with the breathless moans that spill from your lips.

“Tell me how good it is,” he commands, voice rough as his pace picks up, your legs tightening around him. “Tell me how much you like the way I fuck you.”

You don’t hold back, your voice a breathy moan. “It’s so good, Wolffe. So much better than anyone else. You’re the only one who can give it to me like this.”

That spurs him on, his movements becoming almost punishing as he growls your name, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathes against your neck, the words possessive yet laced with something deeper. “No one else is ever going to touch you like this again.”

Your body tightens around him, every ridge of his cock brushing against your walls. Pleasure builds within you until it’s impossible to hold back any longer. “Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back briefly before his eyes lock onto yours again. “You feel incredible.”

When your release finally crashes over you, it’s intense, your vision going white as your muscles clench around him, drawing a guttural moan from his throat. He doesn’t let up, riding you through your orgasm, praising you, until he’s right there with you, thrusts growing erratic until he spills into you with a deep groan, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

For a moment, the only sounds are the heavy breathing and the faint hum of the bar’s lights. Wolffe’s hands remain firm on your hips, almost as if he’s still afraid to let go. When he finally pulls back, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

Before you can ask, Wolffe’s hands gently cup your face, his thumbs brushing tenderly along your cheeks. There’s a softness in his gaze now, something you’ve never seen before. His fierce determination melts away, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. His thumbs continue to trace delicate patterns on your skin as if memorising every contour of your face. “I’ve watched you for so long; how you smile, how you laugh. How you take care of people, even when you think no one notices. You’re not just beautiful—you’re kind, too. And it drives me crazy because you deserve more than just a quick fling. You deserve someone who sees you for all that you are.”

His words hit you harder than any of the passion you’ve shared so far. Your heart stutters at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes soften as he holds your gaze. For a moment, the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet moment. You’ve seen Wolffe as a soldier, a leader, but now, you see him as a man—a man who’s been holding back something real, something deep.

“Wolffe,” you breathe out, touched by his unexpected confession. “I—”

He doesn’t let you finish, leaning in to kiss you with a gentleness that contrasts the rough desire you shared moments before. The kiss is slow, unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of what’s blooming between you. His lips move against yours with reverence, taking his time as if savoring each moment.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness. “You’re not just someone I want in passing,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you for more than just tonight.”

Your chest tightens with warmth, a rare vulnerability breaking through your usual confidence. You reach up, running your fingers through his hair, grounding him in this moment. “I’ve wanted you too, more than you know. Not just for what we have now, but for what we could be.”

He studies your face for a moment, as if committing your every feature to memory, then smiles—a small, genuine curve of his lips. “I’m done hiding how I feel,” he says quietly. “You’re mine, but I’ll also be yours, in every way that matters.”

With that, he kisses you again, this time with a perfect balance of passion and tenderness, his need still evident but tempered by something deeper, more meaningful.

It’s not long until a second round of passion ensues, this time him stripping himself completely bare as he lifts you and moves you towards one of the booths for a more comfier setting. He lays you down, crawling over the top of you as his erection firms and pushes into you once again.

“Tell me how it feels,” he moans softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You can’t help but smile, the words slipping out between moans. “Beautiful… perfect. Nobody has ever made me feel this way.” You whimper, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your already dampened and filled pussy stirring your crazy.

That longing glint returns to his eyes, but this time, it’s mixed with the affection he just bared to you. “Good,” he murmurs, his pace picking up slightly, his hands never leaving your skin. “Because I’m going to make damn sure you never want anyone else.”

The rhythm between you builds again, the intensity returning as his movements grow more insistent, more determined to claim you in every way possible. But there’s a new layer to it now.

His touch was something deeper, more profound, and it’s shown in the way his lips brush against your skin, the way his hands hold you like you’re something precious. Like a porcelain doll.

As you both approach that edge again, the tension coils tight, your bodies perfectly in sync. The pleasure mounts higher and higher until it crests, a shared release that leaves you both trembling and breathless. You collapse into him, clinging to his shoulders as he holds you steady, his own breath coming out in ragged pants. “Mesh’la,” he breathes, kissing your forehead gently.

For a while, neither of you move, caught in the afterglow. But then, Wolffe gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I want you,” he says again, “No games, no hiding. I want us—for real, whatever it takes.”

You smile, reaching up to cup his face, thumb brushing over the scar near his eye. “Then we’ll make it real. But… What about your status? You’ll be reprimanded.”

“Status be damned,” he growls at the thought of the GAR taking you away from him.

You’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. But for once, neither of you care.

🌊 Masterlist is Pinned 🌊

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