#don't talk to me about his gigantic hand

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash with fans in Buenos Aires

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[dark-moonlust]

Gargoyle Guardian

Pairing: Gargoyle x human reader

Summary: The gargoyle guardian awakened upon sensing your presence. His mate. He will have you no matter what.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, double 🍆🍆, vag and anal, explicit descriptions. Don't like, don't visit my blog.

The clock struck midnight.

Stone cracked and fell away.

“I have watched over this place for centuries,” the creature rumbled. “But in all those years I have never come upon something so beautiful.”

You turned around and stood frozen. The gargoyle had talked. It was alive when mere seconds ago it was a mere rock. His dark red gaze locked onto yours as he descended from his pedestal in the ancient cathedral. The full moon cast light over the creature’s form, he was large and imposing with a chiseled chest, firm legs, and huge wings.

You wanted to run, to flee but you felt a strange pull that made you stay.

The gargoyle landed with grace, barely disrupting the ground despite his formidable size.

Dark red eyes stared at you and for a second there they flashed with animosity. And then, liquid lust coursed through you. You forgot the need to run, you ignored your fear, too entranced by the creature’s ancient magic.

You were being seduced.

And you willingly succumbed.

In a flurry of moments, he lifted you, placing on the cool platform of the cathedral.

You found yourself on all fours, palms and knees on the floor, ass up high in the air. Clothes were ripped and your skin shivered once exposed to the cool night air. You felt icy fingers traveling over your flesh, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples.

The touches continued. He caressed your sides, your arms, feeling your belly and thighs, stopping at your mound. He cupped you there, probing your wet cunt with a blunt finger. An involuntary moan escaped you.

“My mate,” the gargoyle drawled against your neck. “I finally found you. Mine. Mine.”

“Yours?” You asked, too entranced by the hold he had upon you, mental and physical.

“You’re mine, little pet,” he said fondly, retracting his sharp nails and letting his fingers safely slide across your pussy, rubbing your clit before slipping inside.

Eyes closing, you whined and wiggled your ass as he fingered you, fucking you with one digit then adding one more. He gathered your wetness in two digits and rubbed them on your pouting asshole, before pushing them inside. You protested but his free hand slapped over your mouth, robbing you of speech.

No one had touched you there before.

Another whine left you.

The fingers in your ass turned from two to three. Your unused hole stretched around the gargoyle’s thick fingers, causing you pain and pleasure. You burned and craved to come. But just as you were about to have your release, the fingers drew back.

“You’ll take me now, little mate. You’re ready.”

Before you could summon a reply, you felt the press of something warm and pulsing. You looked back, jaw going slack at the two cocks pressing against you. Two! They were similar, gigantic, and an angry gray color. The first shaft was thick and curvy with pearly drops on the bulbous head. The other one was just as big, etched with throbbing veins and self-lubricant.

Fear flashed in your eyes as both shafts settled on your little holes. The pressure and stretch overwhelmed you. Inch by inch they invaded your depths, claiming you. They reached the hilt, your belly round and so very filled. Growling, the creature drew back, his cocks coming out slick with your juices.

The gargoyle growled in satisfaction and fucked you slow and steady.

The palm covering your mouth loosened so he could slide two fingers in your mouth. They curled and reached the back of your throat. You gagged and whimpered as he took you, and you came wildly on both cocks while they thrust and thrust inside you. He didn’t stop fucking you. The primal pounding didn’t stop for what felt like hours. He kept you there, pinned under him while he fucked your pussy and your ass, your belly bulging with his cocks.

As the first light of dawn approached, his movements turned frantic.

You were a mess, having had one climax after the other.

When he finally came, both cocks exploded within you, spurting buckets and buckets of warm cum. It overflowed, dripping down your shaking legs and making puddles on the ground. Your eyes closed as sleep and exhaustion took you, while the gargoyle held you close, his cocks still hard inside you.

“You are mine now. And I will protect you always.”

[azrielbrainrot]

Thoroughly So

Pairing: Werewolf!Cassian x Witch!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Breeding, Knotting

Description: Cassian is always ready to help his friends, especially when it's his favorite witch asking for such a delicious favor.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, breeding, knotting, werewolf sex, bit of size kink, dirty talk, kinda fluffy towards the end

Word Count: ~1,7k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: When I was making the list for kinktober I went back and forth between knotting and size kink for this story so it ended up being a bit of both. Also I didn't have time to proofread this so I hope it's alright.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“What's wrong? Is this more than what you bargained for, little witch?”

His hands held onto your hips, guiding his thick cock inside you, filling you up unbearably slowly as your own hands grasped onto the messy sheets, trying to keep your sanity as you were stretched like you've never been before. You knew he would be big considering everything else about him was damn near gigantic, but nothing could have prepared you for this.

“Shut up, Cassian. Just-” Your voice cuts off, your cunt clenching around him, making the both of you moan out. “Just be gentle.”

“Don't worry, I have no intentions of breaking such a pretty girl.”

Whatever insult or smart comment you could have come up with dies down in your throat when he leans down, putting some of his weight on you, strong arms framing your body as he starts grinding into you, fucking the rest of his cock into you carefully.

When you asked Cassian to fuck you tonight, you half expected him to turn you down, even though you've seen the way he looks at you sometimes. Telling someone that you were merely curious about what having sex with a werewolf would feel like was not a good pick up line at all, but you always found being honest with him was the best thing to do.

Things had started pretty awkwardly since you had never even kissed him before, your relationship always having been purely platonic, but the moment his lips touched yours and his hand traveled under your dress, you started melting into him. You couldn't quite put your finger on the exact moment he had taken control of the situation, but if you had to bet it might have been when you came around his fingers embarrassingly fast as he was preparing you, or when you let him flip you over, propping a couple pillows under your stomach, keeping your back arched perfectly for him, knowing you wouldn't be able to keep yourself up on your own.

He wasn't acting like the sweet friend you were used to. Cassian was a bit cocky and a big flirty, you had no doubt about that, but the filthy words leaving his lips and the way he handled your body was a lot more passionate than you anticipated, it was making you feel things you probably shouldn't.

It doesn't take long for his hips to meet your backside, finally managing to fit himself fully inside you. If it weren't for the special oil you had crafted, you wouldn't be so sure this would have been possible, even now as he sat still inside you, it was obvious he wasn't meant to be fucking someone your size.

“Tell me when I can move,” he says, voice clearly affected by the way your cunt swallowed him, spasming around his cock as you adjusted to the intrusion.

“I need a minute, Cass.” You needed more than a minute if you were being honest with yourself, but you were so unbelievably turned on that you couldn't wait so long to have him fuck you into the mattress. Your pride wouldn't let you either, you had made too much of a show about how you could easily take him when he showed some concern earlier.

Breathing in and out slowly, you focus on the way his warm body falls over yours, his own breath hitting your skin as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, dropping a few encouraging kisses here and there, long teeth scratching your skin ever so softly, mumbling sweet but sinful words against you.

He was doing his best to stay still, even though you were probably tightening around him like a vice and every single one of his instincts was telling him to take you and fill you up with his cum. One of the reasons you were so curious about werewolves was because they never quite parted from their primal urges, and they came out at moments like this.

“I'm ready,” you breathe out, shivering when he hums against you, feeling his mouth pull into a smile.

“Ready for me to fuck you?” You nod at his words, though you can hear the teasing tone in his voice. “Wanna beg me for it?”

“Cassian,” you whine, frustrated that you couldn't quite argue with him like usual when he was so deep inside you.

The werewolf lets out a hearty laugh, one you've heard multiple times, innocent despite the situation, and drops one last kiss on your shoulder before lifting himself up on his knees, hands back on your hips as he watches the way your cunt swallowed his cock.

“You don't need to beg. I can feel just how much you need me.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he pulls out until only the tip of his cock stays snug inside your walls before plunging back into your cunt without warning, repeating the same motion as he sets a punishing pace, letting go of his last shred of control.

His hands were definitely leaving bruises on your hips, and even with the soundproof spell you had weaved around your cabin, you weren't so sure your moans and pleas couldn't be heard outside. You tried your best to hold onto something, fingers messing up the sheets as he used your body almost like a ragdoll, lifting you up to meet his thrusts like you weighed nothing.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“So do you.”

Words couldn't even describe how deliciously he was filling you, hips hitting your butt with every thrust, thick cock drawing out the neediest moans past your lips. You had never felt so good, so full.

“Yeah? Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this for? To feel your tight little cunt wrapped around me, hear you screaming my name?” He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust that has you doing exactly that.

You were too far gone to give him a proper response, but the sincerity behind his words make your chest feel warm. Maybe tomorrow you could talk better, about what happened and any feelings rising between you, right now you could only focus on breathing, and even that was proving difficult.

“I'm close. I'm so close, Cassian, please,” you try to warn him, cunt clenching wildly around his cock, barely holding on to sanity as he keeps hitting all the right places, toes curling with every thrust of his hips against yours.

“Fuck, I'm right there with you,” he groans, leaning back down, his chest falling over your back, “Gonna fill you up, and then knot you. Gonna keep you full, so full of me.”

Between the way his cock hits every spot inside you, and his filthy babbles right by your ear, you're sent over the edge, mind numbing pleasure overtaking you, making you forget yourself as you shake under him, sharp nails tearing up into the sheets and mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Cassian's hips start faltering, moans getting whinier as he grinds into you deeply, shuddering against your body, and spilling into you just like he promised, fucking you through your mind numbing orgasms. You were not in the right mindset to pay attention to much, but you could definitely feel how much cum he was fucking inside you, enough so that you swear you could feel it spill around his cock. Good thing you didn't forget to take your tonic.

When you start coming down, you feel his body still trembling against yours, tensing lightly with every breath, still grinding deep inside you, hips pressed against your ass, some of his weight falling on yours, keeping you trapped under him. It takes a moment for your cloudy mind to catch up to what was happening.

“Cassian-”

You knew this was going to happen, had even asked him not to pull out for this exact reason, but now that his cock was swelling inside your overstimulated cunt, forming a knot to keep his cum tucked deep inside you, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear that he wouldn't fit, that you couldn't do it, that he would break you.

“You can take it, you've been doing so good for me,” he rushes to reassure you, kissing your ear, teeth finding your earlobe as he continues with mind numbing praise as his cock keeps swelling, effectively plugging you up. One of his hands travels under your body, finding your clit and circling it with his fingers slowly, turning you into a shaky, whiny mess in a matter of seconds.

“Breathe,” he manages through gritted teeth. “Just breathe for me.”

Much to your surprise, the knot doesn't hurt at all, it feels good in fact, unbelievably so, and since his fingers never let up against your clit, your hips grinding into his hand chasing the feeling, you were cumming around his cock yet again, chanting his name, pleading with him not to stop, as if he ever would.

You were both lying in a pool of sweat and cum when you finally calmed down, his cock properly knotted inside you now. Your sheets were definitely ruined, stained with cum and tears, and you were genuinely surprised your bed had made it through in one piece, but as your body trembled against his and he nuzzled into your neck, hot puffs of air sending goosebumps over your skin, you knew you didn't regret any of it.

“Cass,” you mumble, leaning back into him as he kisses your cheek, trying your best to face him, fatigue catching up to both of you.

“Yeah?”

“How long will you stay like this?”

“A few more minutes,” he explains, voice turning more serious when he asks, “Why? Does it hurt?”

“No, just,” you trail off, biting your lip before admitting, “just wanna kiss you properly.”

Cassian chuckles against your neck, biting down softly on the already marked skin, before soothing it with his warm tongue.

“Bear with me a little longer and I'll kiss you as much as you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[legobiwan]

This is such a telling page for Ford. Not only does he detail his social missteps and admit to being lonely in Gravity Falls, despite the scientific wonder of the place, but he also uses what I call "Fordese 2," a scrambled version of the "Fordese 1" code we were first introduced to in Journal 3 to label himself a "six-fingered freak" and to state that "Stanley would have made her laugh." (Her, being the waitress Ford tries out his nerdy science joke on, which goes down like a lead balloon despite the fact that it is legitimately funny, given the right audience).

It's like Bill says. "Ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated..." (Funny enough, Bill could probably turn those exact words on himself, as well.)

Ford so wanted Gravity Falls to be the place where he'd finally fit in, the puzzle to his misshapen puzzle piece.

And as we see in the missing Journal pages from BoB, that was not to be the case. And worst of all? Ford blames it on his hands at first, but the reality is that he says that "Stanley could make her laugh," meaning Ford's "freakishness" (as he would put it) has less to do with his six fingers and much more to do with Ford's personality and the way he interacts with others.

This is actually worse. Fingers, you can fix, if you want to. By the time you're an adult, most people probably wouldn't care. But to Ford, his fingers seem to be more a manifestation of something internal, something he feels is fundamentally broken about him and that's just the absolute worst hell to be stuck in.

So yeah, it's hardly surprising Ford fell so hard for Bill's shenanigans (and you can define "fell so hard" however you want, although that karaoke page in BoB is especially damning). Here's an interdimensional being who not only can guide you to unlocking the secrets of the universe and propel you towards scientific fame and glory (and thus shoving every taunt, invective, side-eye, and eye roll ever hurled at you over the decades down your tormentors' throats) - but he's (on the surface) completely glib about being a freak himself.

For Ford, this must have been like finding a shady, sparkling oasis after thirty years of trawling through the desert (especially after Stanley's "betrayal" - Stanley, who along with Fiddleford, being the only person Ford felt like he could be himself around and still be accepted as a human being).

Now, is Bill trying way too hard to show how much he doesn't care? Uhhh, yeah. Bill has almost the same hangups as Ford. Labeled a freak for a genetic mutation and ostracized by his peers. Has a rare gift in that he can see not only into the third dimension but can see even past that, into possible dimensions and futures, which is a wild skill to have. Compare this with Ford's gigantic science brain and academic overachievement. Same deal. And not only this! Bill, in an attempt to prove what he can do with his "freakishness," to prove his worth and place in the universe - he tries to show off something to the denizens of his dimension (we don't know yet what Bill did), only to end up slaughtering his entire dimension. Ford was a hair's breath away from doing the exact same thing with the portal. Because we know from Journal 3 that part of his motivation is to be famous and get accolades for his work, and that maybe "girls will finally talk to me." (Which, Fordsy, let's be real here - I don't think you're actually into these "girls" for real, but you want the acceptance that comes with fitting in with societal standards, and getting a state-sanctioned girlfriend is exactly the type of thing Ford would want to make himself feel "normal.")

Anyway, the point being that if Ford had succeeded with his initial portal attempt, he would have basically wiped out his own dimension. Just. Like. Bill. And it makes you wonder - yeah, yeah, Bill wanted to party, Bill needed out of the Nightmare Realm, Bill's a psychopath who enjoys destruction.

But honestly? I think part it all was that Bill wanted someone like him. His own puzzle piece. Another monster. A being whose collateral damage in the quest to justify their existence in this universe ends in wholesale slaughter.

And Ford had the capacity to easily fit that mould.

[senanatheskenana]

Being Their Soul Mate <3

Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Inosuke x reader (separate)

Tanjirou Kamado

From the moment you got close enough for Tanjirou to smell, he knew you were his soul mate. And before you know it, he's sprinting towards you, following the perfect smell. He stops in front of you, blushing like a fool from head to toe.

You can feel the pull towards him, even without an introduction. Your eyes can hardly leave each other, basking in the overwhelming silence. You smile at him, your own cheeks tinted pink, holding out your hand to him. He jumps out of his daze and grips your hand enthusiastically, bringing it to his lips to place a heartfelt kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm sorry to be so forward, i really should have introduced myself before. Please forgive me!" he bows deeply- so deeply you think his head may hit the floor. You fight back a sheepish laugh, shaking your head.

"My name is Tanjirou Kamado, it's beyond a pleasure to meet you," he still holds your hand carefully, loose enough for you to pull it away should you desire to. You don't.

"I'm (f/n) (l/n). I never imagined my soul mate to be as sweet as you, Tanjirou," you can see how his face turns even redder at your words, stuttering out broken sentences.

You gently squeeze his hand, "Did you want to join me on my walk? we have a lot to talk about, I feel"

He nods eagerly, letting you pull him through the streets, all while staring bashfully at the way your hair sways as you move. He thinks he might already be in love.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

'Marry me!'

Those were the words inked into your wrist. A brash, scribbling handwriting. Admittedly you were worried about the circumstances of you meeting your soul mate, given the intense first words.

Evidently, the situation was not nearly as sad as you worried it could be. You weren't being married off, no.

Your soul mate was just super weird.

You shake your leg, hoping to remove the boy from his hold. He's sobbing on the floor, mumbling incoherent pleas at you, still shaken up from the demon he would have been attacked by, had you not struck.

"W-what the hell? You can't just spring that on someone!" you squeal. Finally, he lets go, a look of shock on his face. A moment later a shockingly warm sensation takes over the two of you. You grip your wrist, and he scratches at his shoulder, letting out yelps of 'ouchies'

You look down at your wrist to see the letters glowing gold, pulsing against your bones. Zenitsu gazes up at you momentarily before bawling and returning to clinging onto your legs. You take the time to help him up while his two friends watch in confusion and embarrassment at his actions.

He holds both of your hands and brings them to his cheeks, and you can feel how hot his face is. "Y-you're my soul mate. That means you have to marry me"

You sigh but smile. At least he was enthusiastic, you guessed.

"Maybe let's just start with a date and we can go from there" His tears disappear at your words, replaced by a gigantic smile, not even you can resist.

Inosuke Hashibira

For as long as Inosuke can remember, he's had the name (f/n) (l/n) engraved into his collarbone. Too bad he couldn't read it without Tanjirou's help.

"(f/n) (l/n)..." Tanjirou taps his chin in thought for a moment before gasping, "I got it- that's the ice pillar's name! "

Zenitsu fawns at the idea, "Wow, imagine having a soul mate strong enough to be a Hashira"

He hears the word strong and immediately puffs out his chest, "If they're strong, I'm gonna beat 'em!" Tanjirou now realises that Inosuke doesn't know the concept of Soul Mates.

By the time he tries to explain it, the boy is sprinting through the courtyard, dodging pillars and kakushi.

"Inosuke-" Tanjirou cannot finish his mortified plea.

"ICE HASHIRA COME HERE AND FIGHT ME!" everyone turns towards him in shock and confusion.

"Don't be so loud! if you really wanna see them, they're sitting on that bench" Sanemi scowls at the group of boys, making Tanjirou blanch, uttering apologies.

You're peacefully lying across the bench, nose planted firmly in your book when a shadow falls over you. Slowly you gaze up at the man towering over you before moving to sit up straight.

You recognise the boy in the checkered haori, smiling "Hello Tanjirou. It's nice to see you again. Are these your friends"

Before a smiling Tanjirou can respond, Inosuke brings his sword down beside your hand.

"FIGHT ME!" his face flushes with blood as he seethes under his mask.

You give him a serene smile, "I'm sorry but I believe it would be dangerous for you if I were to fight back."

He pays no mind and swings his sword above him. He looks down only to find you gone in the blink of an eye. In less than three seconds, his katanas are wrenched out of his hands as he is pinned to the ground.

Tanjirou gasps at the embarrassingly short battle- if you could call it such. "Inosuke! Are you both alright?"

'Inosuke?'

You glance down at the man under your foot, "Is your name Inosuke Hashibira?" you ask as calmly as ever, gently releasing him from the hold.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" he scowls under his mask. He doesn't know why he's so nervous around you but it's pissing him off.

"My name is (y/n), the ice Hashira," your smile has an unanticipated calming effect on inosuke, "it would seem we are soul mates"

he blushes at your giggle, still not understanding what a soul mate is. He looks at Tanjirou for help, who sighs.

It was going to be an agonising conversation. He drags the boar boy away, inosuke still staring at you as you wave them goodbye. He wouldn't admit that he missed you already.

[minisugakoobies]

Paradise | JJK - Epilogue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: it's happy ending time!, lots of domestic cuteness, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), shower sex, teasing, dirty talk, someone gets a lap dance 👀, sex in the champagne room, aka sex at work (don't be that coworker!), unprotected sex (monogamous relationship with alternate bc), multiple orgasms

Word Count: 9.1k

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

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: And now we've reached the end! I can't believe it's been three years this month since OC and Jungkook's story began!! A gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, recommended, and/or sent asks about Paradise. This is for you! 💜

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you!  Tell me what you think of the ending! 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist

Bzzzzzzt

Saturday afternoon dawns bright. You can hear birds chirping outside the windows, joined by the buzzing of bees.

Those are some loud fucking bees.

No wait, that’s your phone.

Bzzzzzzt

You grab it off the nightstand.

Huh, nope. No missed texts or calls.

Bzzzzzzt

What the hell is that sound?

Throwing back the covers, you lug yourself out of bed, snatch a t-shirt from the floor and yank it on, and traipse down the hall, following the incessant hum.

Bzzzzzzt

The noise leads you to the bathroom, where your boyfriend stands over the sink, examining himself in the mirror. 

“Hey, jagi,” Jungkook greets you warmly. “Did I wake you? Sorry.” He leans over, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“No, it wasn’t you. I heard some sort of buzzing.”

“Ah, yeah, that was me.” He holds up some sort of metallic grey tool. An electric razor? But he doesn’t have one of those. You know by now that he waxes for his job, and what little hair ever appears on his face he takes care of with a simple disposable razor. “Testing this out.”

“I didn’t know you had one of those,” you say, leaning against the doorway. 

“I don’t. Namjoon-hyung let me borrow it.” He tilts his head left and right, staring at his reflection.

“Borrow it for wh-oooh my god, Kookie, no!” 

Your question becomes a wild wail as your boyfriend brandishes the razor and in one swift move shaves off a chunk of his hair. Watching the dark locks tumble into the sink feels like a scene from a horror movie, unfurling in slow motion.

You glance at Jungkook. Where glorious waves once adorned the side of his handsome face, there is now naught but stubble. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook chuckles as he examines his handiwork. “What’s wrong, jagiya? You don’t want to see a fresh new me?”

“Not if it means sacrificing your gorgeous hair!” you pout.

Of course you love all of your boyfriend. Goes without saying. But his hair! It’s so pretty and thick and silky and fluffy and - 

-and he’s going to shave it all off??

Bzzzzzzt

Another swath joins the first. Two sad curls at the bottom of the sink. 

“Kookie, why?” you lament. “Your pretty hair!”

“Relax!” He laughs, running his tattooed fingers over the scruff that remains where he’s shaved so far. “It’ll grow back eventually. You’re starting to make me think you only love me for -“

Upon catching sight of the expression on your face, he trails off, eyes widening.

“Don’t be stupid,” you reassure him. “I love you for so many reasons. More than there are stars in the sky.”

He grins, turning away.

“Your hair is just, like, 25% of that. Maybe 30.”

“Okay, I’m kicking you out now.” 

“Don’t bother. I’m going. I can’t bear to watch anymore.” You spin on your heel, heading for the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be crying into my cereal, mourning over breakfast.”

“Could you mourn me up a smoothie while you’re at it?” 

As you raise your hand over your head to flip him off, he giggles, pausing in his task to admire the way your ass peeks out from under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing, before disappearing back into the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you quickly whip up a banana smoothie, appreciating how the obnoxious whirr of the mixer drowns out the evil buzzing echoing down the hallway. Sticking the smoothie into the fridge to keep cold until your boyfriend finishes murdering his hair, you sit down to enjoy a bowl of your favorite sugary cereal.

It hasn’t taken much for you to acclimate to Jungkook’s schedule over the last few months since Jennie’s wedding. You’ve all but moved in, hanging around his apartment (usually napping) until he gets home from work in the early hours of the morning. Most of the time, you stay up for a bit, talking and helping him unwind (sometimes fucking, sometimes giving him a gentle massage to soothe his muscles, sometimes just letting him lay with his head on your chest). Usually near dawn you fall asleep, and then wake at noon to spend the afternoon together until he leaves for Paradise in the evening. 

So you've become accustomed to a midday bowl of cereal by now. Of course, it helps that you’re no longer bound to the 9-to-5 life, ever since you quit your job.

The bathroom is rather quiet for several minutes, so you figure Jungkook’s completed his horrible task. So you brace yourself for the sight of a shorn head - 

-only to be surprised when he strolls into the kitchen with a sharp undercut.

“Well?” He turns this way and that, striking poses as he walks over to you. “What do you think?”

His dark hair is slicked back, revealing a shorn section on each side of his head, perfectly highlighting his brow piercing. Long strands still flow on top, a swoop falling into his eyes as he smirks at you.

It defies the laws of reality, the way something like this can make your hot boyfriend even sexier. How is it even possible?

Standing, you extend your fingers, letting them run over the short hairs, enjoying the pleasant prickle. 

“I think I owe Namjoon a thank you card,” you murmur. The soft stubble tickles your fingertips, like fuzz on a peach. “Maybe even a gift basket.”

His smile grows as he draws you into his arms. “See, you were worried for nothing.”

“I really thought you were going to shave it all off!” you exclaim. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he laughs, amused huffs of breath dancing over your skin. 

“Nope.” He slides your hand into what remains of his hair, lithe fingers encouraging yours to wrap around his locks. “I am thinking about dyeing the rest, though. What do you think sounds better - cherry red or buttery blonde?”

“Blonde!” Did you blurt that out a little too fast? Maybe, judging by the cock of his eyebrow.

“Blonde it is.” 

“Do you want your smoothie?” You reach for the fridge door, but he stops you.

“I gotta clean up first. All those little hairs…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Time for a shower.” It’s an invitation that you’re all too happy to accept. 

Jungkook first steps under the spray of water to rinse away the hairs still clinging to his face and neck. But as soon as you join him, he crowds you against the wall of the tub, mouth meeting yours, hand diving between your legs, opening you up to take his cock. He’s a bit rushed in his movements, driven by a fervent need to bury himself inside you as quickly as possible, but you don’t care, just as desperate to feel him yourself. It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you do this - every time you need him just as much as you did the first time. 

When he slides into you, you let out a loud moan, knees already too weak to stand on. He holds you pinned against the tiles as he thrusts into you, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to help keep you up. “So good, jagi,” he grunts, setting a fast pace. All you can do is hang on, every stroke of his thick cock into your throbbing cunt making you sob his name, until your panting gives way to cries of ecstasy. He spills inside you then, his lips pressed to your cheek, breathing soft words of love across your skin. 

In the afternoon, after Jungkook has gone to meet Namjoon at the gym, you decide to take a walk downtown to get a little work done. It’s surprising to you how much has changed in the last few months. Before, the thought of working on a Saturday would’ve sent you into an anxious (and annoyed) spiral. But now? You’re not bothered by it at all. Apparently that’s what happens when you like your job. 

Not long after the wedding, you’d gone to the interview Wendy had graciously hooked you up with. Jungkook had helped you prepare, but you were still nervous as fuck. You needed to escape your current company. You needed this new job.

But as the interview progressed, that nervousness turned into a different sinking feeling. Because as the interviewer droned on and on about your responsibilities in this new position, it became more and more clear that you were essentially interviewing for the same job you were trying to leave. It wasn’t a way out. It was a trap. If you took this job, you’d be caught in the same quicksand, dragging you down again. 

Despite your growing sense of trepidation, the interview went incredibly well, and you felt pretty confident that you would be hearing from the company soon. Which left you with little time to figure out if you wanted the new job or not. 

In the end, it was your promise to Taehyung that made the decision for you. His presentation to the bank was a success, and with his new loan, he’d opened his own studio. Even though you’d done countless presentations over the years at your company, helping too many of their clients to count, this was the first time you’d actually felt joy at the result of your hard work. Helping Taehyung to achieve his dream was a special moment.

It also gave you an idea. A week later, you declined the new job offer. And turned in your notice to your employer. No more working for others.

Time to be your own boss.

It’s just a few blocks from your apartment building to where you’re headed. The bell hanging over the door chimes pleasantly as you let yourself into the little shop. Taehyung’s photography studio is technically closed on Sundays, but with the key he gave you, you can come and go as you please. It’s an arrangement that suits you well. 

As you’d expected, Taehyung is sitting in his office in the rear of the shop when you get back there. He nods a quiet greeting, then perks up when he sees the second cup in your hand. You’d stopped at the coffeehouse on your way here, knowing that Taehyung is still splitting his time between Paradise and his studio, which means he’s usually exhausted on Saturdays.

“You really are an angel,” he murmurs, grabbing the cup.

“I know,” you grin, taking a seat at the makeshift desk Taehyung had created for you. He’d been so grateful for your help that he’d insisted that you use his office as your own temporary workspace while you established your consulting business. You were in no position to turn down free rent, but you’d agreed to only if he let you act as his interim bookkeeper. It was only fair. “Where’s Yeontan?”

“I gave my assistant the day off,” Taehyung replies. “He’s back at the apartment with Ji and Min.” He pauses to stretch lazily. “Thanks again for helping with the move the other day. We still owe you and Kook dinner.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you pay up.” You never turn down a free meal, though honestly, it was enough of a reward for you that you’d gotten to watch your friend Jisoo fall in love with her two boyfriends over the last few months. That’s the word she’d used for them both the other day, when you all helped Taehyung move into Jimin’s place. You hadn’t seen Jisoo this head over heels for anyone since… well, since you’d known her.

Taehyung sips his iced Americano. “What are you working on today?”

“Going over the stuff Felix sent me. We’re meeting with the bank on Tuesday.” 

Having Taehyung as your first official customer had been a blessing. After he’d raved about you to the other dancers at Paradise, you’d suddenly found yourself with a whole list of potential clients. There was Felix, who wanted to buy a food truck for his baking hobby and start a brownie delivery service; Namjoon, who was considering creating an urban nursery for the plants he grew in his tiny greenhouse; and Bang Chan, who wanted to discuss the possibility of running his own gym. Even Hoseok wanted to introduce you to a friend of his who was thinking about opening up a male strip club called Outlaws. You’d barely struck out on your own and yet your calendar was already packed.

You pull out your laptop and settle in. “What about you, what’s on your slate today?” 

“Just going over some shots.” 

The other dancers at Paradise were the best hype team. They’d spread word of mouth about Taehyung’s photography and the studio had been booked since day one. Not that his talent didn’t bring in customers on its own. But it was so touching to see the others rally around Taehyung like that. 

The other dancers had also embraced you warmly. You’d already met most of them from your visits to Paradise or the night of Taehyung’s exhibit, but once Jungkook introduced you as his girlfriend, it was like you’d gained an entire family of siblings overnight. And now that you’re on the inside, it’s so easy to see the way they care for one another. No wonder Jungkook loves working there so much. 

Well, that, and the tips he makes.

Taehyung slides over so you can see his screen. “It’s Jennie and Yoongi’s session, if you want to take a look.” 

“Oh, yes, please!” 

Jennie and her husband had recently booked a photography session to announce Jennie’s pregnancy. As Taehyung slowly scrolls through the shots, you try and fail to will yourself not to tear up. Your friend’s baby bump gets bigger every time you see her and it’s unreal to think that it won’t be long until Baby Min is here. 

Wordlessly, Taehyung hands you a tissue. 

“Thanks.” 

After spending so much time with Taehyung over the last few weeks, you understand why Jungkook adores him so much. He has a very comforting presence, which is nice for you right now, since building a company from scratch is a nerve-wracking experience. 

“So, tonight’s the night, right?” 

Again you grin, nodding. “Yeah.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Excited. But also if I’m being honest, a little scared.” 

Everyone - all of your friends and family - has been super supportive for you during this time, lending their help whenever asked. But no one has been more supportive than Jungkook. He’s listened to you rant about your worries and fears at two in the morning when you know he wants nothing more than to hit the pillow and snooze until noon. He’s made you meals when you were too busy to tear yourself away from your computer to eat. He’s spent so much of his own time taking care of you that you started to fret you’d turned into another job for him. 

But when you voiced this concern to him, Jungkook shook his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a job,” he’d said. “I do these things because I want to, not because I have to.”

You’ve never known anyone like him before. Never known someone who could be so selfless, so freely giving of himself all the time. So freely giving of his devotion, in every sense of the word. You can’t help but want to worship him yourself. 

Despite his claims that he’s doing these things of his own free will, you still feel like you owe him something. A sign of your appreciation. Hence your plans for tonight.

“Why scared?” 

You finish your drink, but don’t put the cup down, twirling it in your hands as you think. “What if I make a total ass of myself?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort. Of course he’d be confident, if he were in your shoes. Taehyung radiates an aura of exceptional self-assuredness. It’s difficult to imagine him being rattled by anything. If tomorrow he was told that he needed to perform emergency brain surgery, he’d snap on his surgical gloves without so much as batting an eye. 

“Listen, I know Jungkook. More importantly, I know how much he loves you.” Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile as you look at him. “There’s nothing you could do tonight to change that.”

The funny thing is, you’re pretty sure he’s right.

Jungkook’s already making dinner when you get back to his place. The delicious scent of gochujang jjigae draws you into his kitchen, where he stands facing the stove, his back to you. Walking up to him, you can’t resist sliding your arms around his waist.

“Hi,” you sigh, burying your face between his shoulder blades, breathing deep the ocean scent of his cologne. 

“Hey jagi,” he hums, a happy note vibrating through his chest as he rests his tattooed hand on top of yours for a second. “Food’s almost ready. Can you grab some bowls?” 

As you reach into his cabinet, it strikes you just how domestic this moment is, getting ready for dinner with Jungkook, like you’ve done so many times before. Thankfully, he’s the one who usually does the cooking, while you help however you can (typically just by staying out of his way - it’s what you do best in the kitchen). It’s unbelievable how easily you’ve fallen into this routine with him. Not a trace of fear in you as you reflect on it. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be back in time to eat with me, but I made enough for two just in case.” He joins you at his little table, ladling stew into your bowls, before he takes the seat across from you. He’s dressed like he usually is for work, just a hoodie and sweats, since he’ll be changing into costumes all night.

“You’re too good to me, Kookie,” you simper playfully with a sweet grin, but you really mean it, knowing that if you’d texted him that you wouldn’t be back, he’d still make extra and put it in the fridge for you. 

He rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears betray him, turning pink. The two of you dig into your meal, quietly enjoying the food and each other’s company. 

“I meant to ask you,” he says after a few minutes, “do you know when Jin-hyung will be back in town?” 

When you’d called things off with Seokjin, you’d made him promise to keep in touch while he was out traveling for his cooking show. He’d taken that pledge to heart, texting you brief updates and sending photos from the road. You’re glad to have made another friend from this whole experience. Especially one whose name you can drop to make hard-to-get dinner reservations. (Seokjin gets a real ego boost when you do that - he’s the one who suggested it in the first place.)

Though things had gotten off to a rocky start between Jungkook and Seokjin, they’d become fairly good friends themselves. It doesn’t really surprise you, since they have more in common than they thought (not even counting you) - both are talented and determined, funny and handsome, not to mention both give a hell of a lap dance. Also, it’s hard not to love Jungkook, no matter how you meet him. 

“Um, I think last time I heard from him, he said he’d be back in two weeks for a short break.”

“Good. That should give me enough time to finish.” He doesn’t say anything else, but you can read between the lines so well with him by now. 

“Jin’s going to love his portrait,” you reassure him. 

As soon as Seokjin had seen Jungkook’s artwork, he’d wasted no time in commissioning the younger man to paint his portrait, to be hung in his newest restaurant. You know that Jungkook is thrilled at the opportunity, but he’s also a little nervous, wanting to impress Seokjin. It’s pretty cute, truth be told. 

You glance up to find Jungkook watching you with a small smile. 

“What? What are you looking at? Am I a mess?” You grab your napkin, dabbing at your face, but he shakes his head. 

“Nothing. I’m happy you’re here. I feel like I’ve barely seen you the last few weeks, you’ve been out working so much.” 

“Oh, right.” You scratch your ear, giving him an apologetic look. “I know, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m not saying that’s bad!” Jungkook raises his hands. “I just… missed you.” 

“Kookie,” you sigh, heart bubbling over with fondness. Your boyfriend is such a sap.

You set down your spoon and rise to your feet, locking your arms around him. He looks up at you with so much love in his eyes you nearly pinch yourself. But you don’t have to. This isn’t a dream, it’s your life. Silently, you thank the universe for everything you did that led you to this man. Then you press a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. 

“I missed you too. But I’m hoping all this will be worth it.”

“It will be, jagiya,” Jungkook asserts, cupping your face gently. “I know it’s hard. But you know what you’re doing. And you’re not alone - you’ve got so many people in your corner. Like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “I believe in you.” 

There’s a sudden lump in your throat, making it impossible to speak, so you let your lips express what you feel. What’s left of your dinner sits forgotten as you climb into his lap, kissing him until you’re both breathless. Only then you’re able to whisper a quiet thank you. 

Jungkook’s right. You can do this. Especially with him by your side.

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:15): Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?

Bestie 😇 (8:17): Yes! I miss you guys

Bestie 😇 (8:17): This baby’s not even here yet and they’re already keeping me busy

Bestie 😇 (8:18): Plus I’ve been craving waffles for days

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19): We miss you too! 

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19):  And you too, YN! You work too hard

You (8:20): I know 😔I miss you all too

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:21):  I’ll be there!

Queen Ji 👑 (8:22): Yes we’re doing brunch because YN needs to tell us allll about tonight!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): OH THAT’S RIGHT!

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:23): Ahhhh that’s tonight?!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): Break a leg! 🙌

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:24): LET’S GOOOOO

Queen Ji 👑 (8:24): You are going to KILL IT

Bestie 😇 (8:24): *airhorn.gif*

You (8:25): 🙈🙈

You (8:25): We’ll see

You (8:25): But thank you 😘

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26): Oh no! None of that

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26):  Trust me, you’ve got this

You (8:27): And just how are you so sure about that?

Queen Ji 👑 (8:28): Jimin told me. He never lies

You (8:29): I knew I should’ve asked Namjoon

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:29): As if he wouldn’t tell me

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:30): I like the guy but he can’t keep a secret to save his life

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:31): Relax, you’re gonna be amazing! Just have fun with it

Bestie 😇 (8:31): Yessssss have fun

Queen Ji 👑 (8:32): But also put your back into it

Bestie 😇 (8:33): You should probably stretch first

You (8:33): Yes, eomma, I will

Bestie 😇 (8:34): I’m going to kindly ask that you never call me that again

You (8:35): But you’ll be hearing it all the time soon!!

Bestie 😇 (8:35): Not from you though! 🙅

Queen Ji 👑 (8:36): Sorry, eomma, we’ll behave

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Oh god, *especially* not from you

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Okay I’m out. I’ll see you all tomorrow. But don’t forget!

Bestie 😇 (8:38): 📣You’ve got this! 📣

Queen Ji 👑 (8:38): She’s the best mom

A few hours later, you find yourself alone in an unfamiliar space. A small room, containing only a handful of pieces of dark furniture. Velvet curtains drape three of the walls, while the fourth is a mirror. A crystalline chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the glass reflecting the soft lighting, scattering shimmering spots of illumination around the room as the bass pumping from the overhead speaker makes the decoration bounce.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the skirt of your dress, wishing you could take your friends’ advice and relax right now. Instead, your nerves are jumpy and your pulse is racing. The waiting isn’t helping. 

As you switch seats for the tenth time since you got here (you can’t decide which is a better place to sit, on the pleather couch or the matching chair), you adjust your dress, hoping you look more confident than you feel. Confidence is key for what you’re about to do, according to Jimin. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through more. More practice would’ve been helpful, too. Why did you decide to do this now? You’ve really got to work on your patience, you think, eyeing the couch again before moving seats again. 

The curtains sway slightly as the door to the room opens. Immediately your mind empties of all thoughts as your adrenaline kicks in. It’s showtime. You sit up, trying to strike an enticing pose, waiting for the man who opened the door to finish locking it and turn around. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting t- baby??” Jungkook freezes, head cocking to the side in confusion. You knew that Jimin had told him he had a Paradise customer waiting for him in a private room.  “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you grin, suddenly feeling really shy. Which is the exact opposite of what you need to feel right now, if you’re going to pull this off. “So, um, surprise!” 

Jungkook smiles, obviously thrilled with your surprise, and crosses the tiny space in two strides. You stand to greet him, taking in his outfit, a silky black shirt unbuttoned over a pair of black leather pants. He looks just like he did the night of Jennie’s bachelorette party, only with a new haircut. The fabric of his top is soft beneath your fingertips as you lay your hands on his shoulders, accepting his kiss hello. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but… you know you didn’t have to pay to see me, right?” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I’ll dance for you any time.” 

You do know that, because he’s danced for you several times now. Sometimes he likes to get your opinions on a new routine, and other times… other times, he just feels like dancing for you. 

Knowing all this, you nod, smoothing down the folds in his shirt, trying to distract yourself from the way your stomach is tying itself in knots. Relax, you remind yourself, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s Jungkook. 

“I know. But this actually isn’t about me tonight. It’s about you.” 

Applying a little pressure on his shoulders, you push Jungkook onto the couch. He looks up at you questioningly, but doesn’t say anything, merely takes a seat. That’s so like him - to read you so well that he understands you’ve got something planned, so he’s letting you lead the moment. Just that tiny act of deference heartens you, leaving you more sure about what you’ve got planned. 

You walk over to the panel on the wall that controls the overhead speaker. Your phone is already hooked up, and with a few swipes, you change the playlist.

“I wanted to do something for you, to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.” For some reason it’s easier to explain why you’re here without looking at Jungkook as you do it, so you fiddle with the phone a little as you speak. “I know the last few weeks have been stressful, because of everything I’m trying to do, and I just… I want to thank you. And I thought this was the best way to do it.” 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s watching you with such a rapt expression that you can’t help but feel almost foolish about being so worried about this. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him a show on the same level that he does. You’ve got his full attention no matter what you do. 

You’ve got his love. 

With that comforting thought, you take a steadying breath, in and out, and then begin. 

Dancing is really not your strong suit, but the biggest lesson Jimin taught you is that it’s not the moves themselves that matter - it’s the attitude with which you perform them. It’s all about setting a mood.

So you let the music guide you. Let yourself sink into the groove set by the drums and bass. Jungkook lets out a tiny “oh, fuck,” when you start to shake your hips. You fight the urge to giggle, biting your lip in a sultry manner instead. You’re wearing a cute but simple dress, something that will be easy to remove when the time comes, but you dance like you’re dressed in the sexiest outfit imaginable, sliding the skirt up your thighs a little to tease him. 

Even though you’re only a few feet away from Jungkook, you take your time approaching him, dragging out the anticipation. His hands rise automatically, reaching for you, but you dodge his grasp, taking them in your own hands instead. Something else Jimin taught you - lay down the rules right away. 

“I’m here to dance for you, Kookie. So let’s get one thing straight - I’m the one in charge.” You squeeze his hands to draw his attention to them as you place them at his sides. “That means no touching me, unless I say it’s okay.” 

Jungkook blinks at your words, but he doesn’t argue or try again to touch you. “Yes, baby,” he says, eyes brimming with adoration as he nods at you, and again you feel a surge of confidence. 

With your back to him, you place a hand on both of his knees, guiding him to spread his legs apart. Then you lower yourself into his lap, laying back against his chest and tilting your face towards his. If either of you leaned forward the slightest bit, your mouths would touch, but you resist the urge, and he waits breathlessly to see what you’re going to do next. 

You bring your arm up, then trail your hand down his chest, across your breasts and stomach, and on to his thigh, just skimming past his crotch. His hips buck slightly beneath you, and you grind in his lap, giving him the friction he seeks. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll touch you all you want,” you whisper. 

Jungkook groans loudly. You glide around the couch until you’re behind him and run your hands down his arms and over his chest. The silk of his shirt is starting to stick to him where he’s sweating. You’ve barely started and you’re already having an obvious effect on him.

It’s not just his temperature that’s rising, you note with a smug smile when you return to your spot in front of him. The tight material of his pants barely restrains his erection. Again you sit on his thighs, facing away from him, throwing your legs out in a wide stance as you pop to the beat. 

“Shit, baby, yes,” Jungkook praises you with a deep groan when you lean forward, giving him a good view of your ass as it bounces. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?” 

“Well, um…” you pause to bend further, nearly touching the ground, enjoying how Jungkook swears quietly when he gets a glimpse of your panties, “you know how I’ve been so busy lately?”

“Uh-huh…” Jungkook responds mindlessly, far too occupied with the sight in front of him. He’s being so patient, keeping his hands at his side like instructed, but the telltale twitching of his fingers lets you know that he’s fighting hard to behave.

You decide to take pity. Just a little. Turning, you straddle him, and grab his wrists. “Here you go,” you wink, placing his hands on your hips. “Just hold on for me.” 

Jungkook hums, vision trailing up your body from where your hips are swaying to where your breasts are now in his face. 

“I was working, but I wasn’t at Taehyung’s studio. I was taking some lessons from Jimin.” 

He looks up at that. “Wait, you were what?” 

The surprise on his face makes you giggle. There’s that wide-eyed Bambi look that you love so much. As the next track on your playlist starts, something a little slower, you shift into a grind, dragging your ass over Jungkook’s lap. He hisses, fingers tightening their grip, almost bruising in their hold, but he doesn’t try to guide you like he usually does when the two of you are in this position. It impresses you, the restraint he’s showing. 

It makes you want to make him lose control. 

You run your fingers through his hair, lifting it off his face, and lean close to his ear. “I wanted to make this good for you, baby. Give you exactly what you deserve.” Your lips hover across his cheek, not touching, but your breath caresses his skin, making him shudder beneath you. 

“Jagi,” Jungkook swallows thickly, eyelids heavy with desire as he peers at you. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these moves from me.” 

You bite back another big smile. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

His hands fall from your waist as you spin around, nudging his legs apart. Following the rhythm of the music, you undulate your body down his, your back sliding down his chest, then down his lap, until you’re on your knees. Then you place your hands on the ground in front of you, lowering your bottom half to the floor in a slow humping motion, before flashing him as you whip your legs into a split in order to roll yourself onto your back.

“Holy fuck, jagi,” Jungkook gasps, digging his hands into the couch on either side of his thighs, desperate for something to clutch. “You’re finally gonna do it. You’re going to be the actual death of me.” 

Despite yourself, you start giggling. “Kookie! Don’t make me laugh.” You take your time rising to your knees, then to your feet, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I want you to take this seriously.” 

“Oh, I am, baby, believe me.” Jungkook bites his lip, nodding. His eyes follow the path your hands take, dragging the skirt up to reveal your lower stomach. Meanwhile, one of his hands has found its way to his crotch, squeezing his hard cock through his pants. You’d considered making another rule earlier, that he couldn’t touch himself, but truthfully, you want to watch him enjoy himself. 

“Good boy,” you purr, and Jungkook whimpers loud enough for you to wonder if you’ve tapped into something previously undiscovered about him, but you’re too busy to ponder it any further as you swing your hips, using his knees to help you drop yourself down to the floor again in a low squat. 

The power you feel as he watches you is beyond intoxicating. What you’re doing right now is nothing compared to the skill he displays when he dances, but you understand a little better why he does this for a living. You feel like you could do anything right now. 

As you come back up, you lean into him, hands on his chest, your face so close to his, and this time the need to kiss him is too strong, so you stop denying yourself, connecting your mouths briefly, just enough to have him chasing you when you pull away. Before he can protest, you distract him by pulling your dress over your head in one swift movement. 

“Baby,” he moans, eyeing the matching lingerie set you picked out especially for tonight, his favorite color and his favorite texture, the black lace just begging him to run his fingertips all over it. “Is that new?” 

Of course he’d notice. He’s got the contents of your underwear drawer practically memorized. Not surprising since most of the sets are from him. He’s got a thing for nice lingerie and you’re more than happy to indulge him. 

“Bought it just for you.” With your back to him, you straddle one of his thighs, centering yourself on the thick muscle, and roll your hips in slow figure eights. Grabbing his hands, you wrap them around you, placing one on your bra and the other just over the band of your panties. “Do you like?” 

Jungkook’s answer is a wordless growl as he strokes the lace. You hum, tossing your head back so it rests on his shoulder, and slip the hand over your lower stomach down further, until he’s cupping your mound. 

“Ah!” you gasp, hips jutting forward when his eager fingers go rogue and press against you in a sign of his slipping control. “I - I’m guessing that means yes.” 

“It means fuck yes,” Jungkook declares. “You’re driving me insane right now, you know that?” 

“I think I’m getting the idea,” you reply, trying to focus on finishing your dance and not just outright humping his hand. Tracing your fingernails down his forearms makes him loosen his grip enough for you to climb off him. As the next track plays, you drape yourself over the side of the couch so your back hits his lap, and lie there shimmying to the beat for a few seconds before unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. 

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rasps roughly, tongue licking furiously at his lips, and even though you’re only maybe halfway through the routine you’d been practicing, you decide to skip to the end, because clearly your boyfriend is close to breaking, and frankly, so are you. 

You throw your leg over his lap, straddling him again. Taking his hands, you lace your fingers together, using him as a counterweight to help you dip backwards, so low your head nearly brushes the ground, before you roll back up, pressing your forehead to his. You stare at his mouth and he stares at yours as you inhale a steadying breath to speak.

“You can touch me now.” 

The current of electricity simmering between you suddenly blazes out, igniting the air around you. His hands slide to the small of your back, and your arms loop around his neck, both of you pulling each other as close as possible as you meet in a charged kiss. Jungkook moans into your lips, tongue chasing the sound. Your mouth parts to let him in. 

Jungkook’s hands keep moving, gripping your waist, your ass, your breasts - it’s like he’s been starving for you, like those few minutes that he wasn’t allowed to hold you were an eternity and now that they’re over he must take his fill. Your skin vibrates beneath his fingertips, so much pent-up energy ready to burst, and you seek an outlet, grinding your hips down onto his. 

“Kookie,” you whine helplessly, and Jungkook grunts in response, rutting his erection against you, fitting between your legs so perfectly, the two of you like puzzle pieces coming together to form a complete picture of lust. 

“I’m here, jagi,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jawline and back to your mouth before continuing down the other side. “I’m here.” 

In a second, you’re on your back, watching Jungkook peel off his shirt before he covers your body with his. His kisses are just as greedy as his touches, and you lose yourself in him, devouring the desire on his lips with a wild ravenousness of your own. 

But as he trails kisses down your body, you open your eyes and stare directly at the chandelier hanging over you, and a thought hits you with startling clarity - oh, right, you’re still at Paradise. At Jungkook’s place of work. 

“Jungkook. Jungkook,” you repeat, threading your fingers through his hair to tug his head off your breast, where his tongue was lapping at your nipple. “Should we do this here?” 

Jungkook blinks at you a few times. “Isn’t this - don’t you want to?” 

Of course you want to. But all those times you’d pictured this moment, your best hope was that he’d enjoy the dance and promise to thank you in private later when he got off work. You hadn’t really considered that you’d do such an amazing job that the two of you would fuck on the spot. (Okay, that’s a lie, you’d considered it a lot. But still. Imagining fucking your boyfriend at his job and actually fucking your boyfriend at his job are two very different things.)

“I want to,” you reassure him, brushing a wandering drop of sweat from his brow. “I just don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “Baby, trust me, I’m not the first one to do this. There’s a reason “no sex in the champagne room” is a saying.” He sees the mix of confusion and disgust on your face and laughs again. “I’m not worrying about it and neither should you. But if you are, we don’t have to do anything. This has been more than enough for me.”

“So… you liked your dance?” you ask in a tiny voice.

Jungkook lets out a pained groan. “Baby, I loved it. I can’t believe you did all this for me.” His hand brushes over your hip, playing with the lace there. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Not true.” If anything, he’s the one too good to you. “But I’m trying.” 

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. You feel yourself melting into his embrace. Any remaining concerns vanish as Jungkook lowers his head, taking your nipple into his mouth again with a messy kiss. If he’s not worried, why should you be? Besides, as you arch your back, chasing Jungkook’s tongue as he drags it down your torso, only an apocalypse could stop you now, and maybe not even that. 

“You know,” you start, gasping slightly when his teeth graze lightly over the swell of your stomach, “I’ve fantasized about this.”  

Jungkook glances up at you. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I usually pictured you dancing for me, but, um, we always ended up fucking.” A flash of heat licks the back of your neck as you meet Jungkook’s eye. 

“That’s usually how I imagine it, too,” Jungkook informs you. The casual admission of this mutual secret fantasy stokes your arousal. Jungkook flames it further when he ruts his hard cock against you. “Sometimes you ride me, sometimes I bend you over this couch, but it always starts with me giving you a private show.” 

Your breath leaves you in a hiss. “Fuck. That sounds good.” 

“Which one?”

“Both,” you groan, rolling your hips. “All of it.” 

Jungkook kisses your neck to smother his laughter. “It’s not too late, you know. I can make those fantasies come true.” His tone deepens as he speaks, becoming darker. Oh, you know this tone so well. He’s shifting to demon mode. 

“Another time. I mean,” you clarify immediately, not wanting him to misunderstand, “you can give me a private dance another time.”

“Aww, is my baby too worked up right now?” he teases, and this time he doesn’t bother to even try to hide his laughter when you whine, pressing your hips into him again. “Okay, jagi, I promise I’ll dance for you another time. I won’t make you wait any longer.” 

Again he slides down your body, kissing over the soft lace of your underwear. He pulls your thighs apart with his hands so he can stick his face directly between them. His stuttered breath blows hot over the damp material barely covering you. Impatient, you reach to push your panties down, but Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them over your head. “Kook!” 

Jungkook shakes his head at your pouty cry. Leaning over you, he catches your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it to his mouth for another wet kiss. 

“Let me, baby,” he coos sweetly, and then he takes the lace band in his teeth and slowly drags your panties down your body using only his mouth. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” you moan, unable to tear your gaze away. Jungkook hums, dropping the sodden silk on the ground before lowering his lips to kiss your pussy. He’s sloppy and loud, and in a brief lucid flash of sanity you pray that the music covers the sounds out in the hallway. 

Jungkook always moves at his own pace, in his own time, and nowhere is that more evident than the way goes down on you. He loves building you up slowly, so slowly, until you’re going out of your mind begging him to let you cum. Tonight, however, he’s moving fast, slipping two fingers inside you, getting you ready for him.  If asked, he’d claim it was for you, but the truth is that he needs you as much as you need him right now. 

“Love the way you taste,” he murmurs, fingers spreading you wider, dragging his tongue over your clit. He curls his fingers, smirking at your gasp, and repeats the movement. It feels so good, too good, so your hand snakes out and grabs his wrist, and he stills, looking up at you in confusion. 

“Wanna come on your cock,” you explain.

He groans, reclining back on his knees. “Whatever you want, jagiya,” he says, fingers flying to the laces on his leather pants. He’s used to taking his time untying them on stage, drawing the moment out seductively, a marked contrast to the clumsy way he tugs on them now, trying to undo them as quickly as he can. 

With only a little bit of struggling, he pushes his pants down, then kicks them off completely. He wraps one hand around his hard length, thumb and forefinger pinching slightly just below the flushed head. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at him, taking in sight of this gorgeous man kneeling between your legs, looking every bit as hungry as you feel. 

“Tell me how you want it.”

You clench unconsciously at Jungkook’s command, mind running through all the possibilities. Honestly, you don’t care how, you just need him inside you now. 

So you reach out, gently prying his fingers away from his cock. Jungkook sighs when you take it in your hand, a sound of deep-seated contentment, like he’s been waiting all night for you to touch him. You understand the sentiment, thighs twitching as you slowly pump him a few times, using his slickness to make your movements easier. 

“Just like this,” you say, guiding him towards your slit. He hisses as you slide his head through your folds, and presses forward a bit, helping you coat him in your arousal. 

“Okay, jagiya,” he murmurs. He arranges himself between your legs, lifting one calf, then the other, over his broad shoulders. You shiver, breathless with anticipation as you catch the feral glint in his eyes. “Just like this.” 

A harmonious pair of moans fill the room when he enters you. He waits for a moment, because as rushed as his fingering was, it wasn’t enough to fully stretch you out enough for him. When you whisper, “okay,” he starts to move. The first few rolls of his hips are slow and easy, him savoring the tight warmth of your cunt around him, you delighting in the sensation of being filled so completely. He kisses the side of your knee, staring down at you as you whimper beneath him with every languid thrust. 

When your hands stretch out for him, he leans down, bending you in half to press his mouth to yours. He sinks deeper into you, your bodies locking together more closely, and you lace your fingers through his hair, until you’re breathing each other’s kisses like air. You whisper Jungkook’s name and he sighs yours back. 

“Love you so much, jagi.” 

His mouth nudges your head to the side in search of that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you open your eyes to catch sight of the two of you in the mirror. Even if the room were pitch black right now, you’d be able to see yourself lying there, the way you’re lit from within. Your love for Jungkook burns inside you like a star in the night sky, pulsing bright and steady. 

“I love you, too.” 

Jungkook’s pace steadies, his pelvis starting to bounce off your ass with more speed.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby,” you moan, watching him piston his cock inside you. “More, please, Kookie! More!” 

Never let it be said that your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He pulls out, getting off the couch, and, with strong hands gripping your thighs, positions you with your hips resting on the arm of the couch, to raise you high enough for him to plunge back in from a standing position. 

And then he gives you exactly what you asked for. 

Jungkook fucks you hard and fast. His furrowed brow drips with sweat as he snaps his hips into you. You know nothing could break his concentration now - eyes sharply focusing on your expression, ears listening for the change in the pitch of your voice. When he feels your walls starting to constrict, he grips your thighs to tilt you just enough to find the right angle to tap your sweet spot with every pump - 

“Jungkook!” With a loud gasp of his name, your climax arrives. Your cunt pulsates so tightly around him that Jungkook clamps his arms around your legs, pulling your ass flush against him so he can grind into you.

“Oh, fuck, jagi, ‘m so close.” His voice is already wrecked, sounding rough and broken. He bends slightly at the waist, forcing your legs closer to your stomach, putting you at an odd angle, but you’re still buzzing with pleasure so you don’t notice the stretch, just let out a low moan as Jungkook starts to move again. 

He bends further, sliding his hands behind your back, and then he lifts you, using that surprising strength of his to hold you as he slides around to sit on the couch. Your legs support you just long enough to straddle him, and then you sink down onto his cock, more than happy to collapse against Jungkook as he fucks up into you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. “Always so good, jagi.” You meet his gaze, struck by the love you see in his eyes. No matter how often he looks at you like this, it makes your heart sing every time. You kiss him before sitting up, meeting his thrusts with your own movements.

“Come for me, Kookie,” you murmur sweetly, drawing your boyfriend’s eye with the movement of your hand as it heads down your stomach. Your fingers rub at your clit, rolling the engorged nub around, and the delicious drag of his cock inside your constricting walls has you hurtling towards a second orgasm just as Jungkook reaches his first.

Your playlist begins the last song as the two of you cling to each other on the couch. Jungkook’s arms are still locked around your back while you rest your head on his shoulder. He sings along quietly to the music, his soothing voice wrapping around you like a blanket. It’s a favorite song of his, just as it’s a favorite of yours - the song from your rooftop dance at Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding.

When the music ends, Jungkook sighs. “We should definitely do this again.” 

You laugh, sitting up. He grins at you and you lean forward to press a light peck to the tiny mole under his lip. “I may have booked you all night.” 

“Like I was gonna let you walk out of here anytime soon,” he scoffs. He stops your giggling with his kiss, lips soft and lingering, and you sigh, hugging him close again. 

There’s a part of you that can’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in a strip club, but somehow it felt inevitable that you two would end up here like this. Like from the moment you walked in here all those months ago, there was no other way this would go. 

It was such a strange trip to think about. You had to go all the way to Paradise to meet the love of your life who lived next door. Fate could really take the most roundabout way, but the journey was more than worth it. 

“You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the moment. 

“I want to do everything for you,” you reply with a shake of your head. “You deserve the world, Kookie.” 

“I have everything I could ever want, jagiya. Right here in my arms.” 

Normally, this is where you would roll your eyes at him for being so sappy, but that’s hard to do when you’re blinking back tears. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, so he knows that you feel the same way. 

“You know…” Jungkook starts after a few seconds, then stops. You shake him a little to urge him to go on. “There is something else I’ve been thinking about. Something I want to do, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.” 

“What is it?”

He glances down, and there’s the shy bunny smile that you remember from all those months ago. “I’d love to paint you.” 

“Naked?” you whisper, hand to your chest, looking scandalized.

He laughs, nose wrinkling in glee. “That actually wasn’t what I meant but I’m absolutely down if you are.” 

“We’ll see,” you grin, kissing his cheek. “One thing at a time. Right now, we’ve got this room to ourselves, and I believe you promised me a dance.”

“Yes I did,” Jungkook agrees, chin jutting out to catch your next kiss with his lips. “Anything for my love.” 

“I love you, too,” you sigh, kissing him back. 

************************************************************************

A/N 2: Yes, there will still be some drabbles down the line, but this is the end of the main story! Thank you for sticking with me! 💕

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

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2021-22-23-24 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[audisive]

♪ PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY.  sad girl alternative

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you've had a bad day, simon's there to fix it.

tags: comfort, crying, self-indulgent, fluff

  Your head laid on the skin of his arm, your face pushed into the comfort of his chest. The sharp edges of your earrings – your favorite ones, he recalls – sank and dug into his skin meanly, but he couldn't care less. As disgusting as it sounds, it could not compare to the way his heart ached to protect your own when he hears you take sharp inhales just to exhale with a sob, sniffles occasionally there to accompany your weeping. It was anything but his priority with the way his arms tightened around you and the way he'd hoped it would be enough to ease your worries and take your pain away; pass it onto him if you must. Anything to make you feel better.

Oh, the things he'd be willing to but could not do to instead receive a painfully unfunny joke from you in the place of your sobs. He settles on wiping the tears off your face, knowing how it makes you feel when it dries and sticks to your skin uncomfortably. The small droplets were everywhere and increased with every passing minute, but he took the time to wipe them off one by one. Had you not been in agony, you would've been in awe at the way this gigantically scary man was being so gentle with you; it was one of the best reminders of how his heart belonged to you and how well he'd taken care of your own.

Simon holds you forever – at least that's what it feels like – and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to distract you, even just for a little bit. "'S fine," he reassures you, each word filled with promise and not an ounce of doubt. "You'll be okay, y'hear me? I got you." It's warm, and he still faintly smells of gun powder, mixed with the well-used cologne you'd bought him for his birthday last year. You don't pay any mind to the smell of tobacco lingering; you know it's not his.

You've long since learned – all thanks to him – to refrain from apologizing for your show of vulnerability and emotions. It leaves you guilty, still, eating you up at night with the knowledge of his uneasiness when it comes to emotions, but for him, nothing's better than learning to get over his fears with his one and only love. Love always makes us do things we don't want to, right?

His arms found the way to wrap themselves around you heavily like a weighted blanket hours ago and have continued to stay. It serves as a comfort for you, along with his words. In his sweater, his arms, his bed, his room. He's all you can see and all you can feel, but you're not complaining, and neither is he.

You calm down after a moment, letting your breathing grow steady while the wet spots of tears in his sweater dried up. Simon Riley hates to see you cry, but damn it if he can't be the one to comfort you.

"There's m' pretty girl," he whispers in that charmingly rough yet gentle voice of his, looking down at the way your lashes glisten with salty little tears when you find the strength to press your cheek to his chest instead of burying your face in the warm surface. "Feelin' better now, sweets?" He's so terribly sweet to and with you that you think you might cry again just because. You barely even nod, but you know he notices; he always does.

"Y'wanna talk about it?" His hand plants itself onto your back; it gives you a sense of stability. Everything about him is so large in a way that engulfs you whole, and it would terrify any sane person. Perhaps you aren't, not anymore, but you found the warmth and comfort of your home in him. He kisses your forehead without so much as a pause when you shake your head. "A'right, we'll jus' stay here, then."

And stay, you do, cuddled up against him. It doesn't take long before all the crying takes its toll on you, your head starts to hurt, and your eyelids start to give up. Before you know it, you're pulled into the deep depths of unconsciousness. It's too early into the night; you've skipped two meals, and you've worked yourself near death. You know full well that you'll wake up with a raging headache after crying yourself to sleep, too. You'll wake up too early in the morning; your muscles will be sore, and you're still starving. You might as well pass out immediately after waking up.

Still, you sleep at ease and without worry. Why would you not? Simon will be there to fix it. ♡

  divider by @cafekitsune !

[kenjioharashotspot]

headcanons | when you think you're alone...

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw content/smut/voyeurism kink/dirty talking

word count: 314 words

• he stays quiet to make you think you're alone. when you're laying down on the bed, ready to pleasure yourself, it's when he starts paying attention without getting noticed by you. • his heartbeat gets faster as you open your legs and explore the warm surface of your horny body, while whimpering and softly calling out his name. • miguel thrives at the sight of you touching yourself, thinking about him. so much so, his hard dick is begging for some assistance. • your boyfriend loves to see the affect he has on your body, making you aroused even when he's not with you. miguel just wants to jizz inside you until he gets you pregnant. • he's the type to go into the bedroom, sitting down on the armchair in front of the bed and pulling out his dick, stroking it as he watches you fingering yourself. o'hara loves to see your cheeks get flushed as you realize you're masturbating in front of him. • "you want me, don't you, baby?"; "let me see you cum for me, little slut"; "look at me while you're touching yourself, princess" are some of the things he would say as you stimulate your clit, looking at him. • as you climax, he's the type of man to let out a satisfied smile while you're moaning his name, desperate for his gigantic hands to trail a path on your body. o'hara goes nuts as you're stimulating those hard, reddish nipples of yours. • he sees you masturbate in the shower, in the living room, in the bedroom...and can't wait to dick you down so hard at the end, until you can't walk. • "now that my babydoll had some fun, let me show you how much i missed being inside you" space between you both is now nonexistent, his strong big muscular body on top of yours. the real deal feels so much better...

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

feelings are scary. ( gregory house x reader )

gif belongs to me

He knew breaking up over a text message was the coward's way out, but there would be questions he didn't want to answer, uncomfortable feelings he tried to bury down and pretend didn't exist. Greg House didn't have healthy relationships. Especially not with a sexy ER nurse.

Before you started dating you were often lured to the clinic under false pretenses to see someone he considered interesting but it was just a way to see you. When his team failed to give him the answers he wanted, he would follow you around the ER and discuss his latest patient. You were always bubbly, smiling at his sarcastic remarks, and when he insulted your patients you always said, "Don't mind my friend here, he hasn't had his caffeine fix for the day."

You never turned him away. You were never exasperated by the amount of times he managed to trick you and when you started dating he realized you always knew it was a ruse, and went along with it anyway because you wanted to see him too.

Greg House didn't maintain healthy relationships. But for four blissful months, you did. And it terrified him.

Saying I love you opened doors he had long since locked. You admitted that you didn't need him to say it, but you wanted him to know how you felt. The next day you received his termination of your relationship and were stunned by how curt it was.

Once the knife stopped twisting, you realized you had expected this reaction and decided to give him time and space. For a week you pushed your feelings down, focusing on your job, and while he didn't visit you in the ER or get you to meet him somewhere in the hospital, you had felt the weight of his gaze more than once. He might not have spoken to you, but he still stopped by.

You did everything you could to stop thinking about the department head. Until a car crash victim died and everything came bubbling to the surface. You tore off your gloves and changed in the locker room, washing off the blood, and slumped on the bench, fending off tears that dried up as anger set in at how unfair it was that an eighteen-year-old was dead from a drunk driver.

When you made it to his department you noticed him on the balcony talking to James and stormed outside, gaining their attention.

"Uh, Y/N, h-hi -"

"Go away, Wilson."

"Right-o." He made a swift exit as House sighed, turning to look out at the view, resting his hands on the wall.

"I thought you'd crack sooner -"

"Shut up." You barked.

House raised an eyebrow, turning to look at you and seeing the tears in your eyes.

"You are an arrogant gasbag." His eyebrows rose at the insult as you were docile by nature. "What gives you the right to tell me how to feel? You don't. Do you think falling for you wasn't scary for me? Feelings are scary, Greg, and they feel like crap and sometimes they feel great and everything is butterflies and rainbows until an ego-maniac decides to stab you in the heart because he can't let himself be happy."

House listened quietly as you moved around, gesturing wildly with your hands.

"I know you are a gigantic pain in the ass. I know you're cynical. I know you use humor to keep people at arm's length but for a second, I thought that maybe you would finally let me in the door. And then you avoid me like I have the plague like a middle-grader! I mean, what the hell?"

You stopped pacing, finally meeting his gaze, and took a moment to catch your breath.

"Can I talk now?"

You rolled your jaw, nodding reluctantly.

"Come here."

You walked closer and when you were within arms reach, he brought you to his chest, kissing you hotly. You melted into his chest as he kept his balance by leaning on the wall. His arms wrapped around you, and the scent of his cologne made tears prick your eyes from how comforting it was.

The passionate kiss was the closest thing you would get to a confession. And right now that was enough.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace Trappola: Trouble, that Trappola

Wow, different pjs??? I wonder if each student will truly have unique sleepwear or if it’ll be like “everyone in the same dorm has similar sleepwear, just recolored and with a different motif”. I’ve been laughing about how Ace is dressed and posed, it’s very… Justin Bieber-coded. His bedhead though, it reminds me of Sylvain from FE3H.

Fun fact, I have an irl friend that has the same birthday as Ace... Therefore, I am legally obligated to celebrate it with them/j This year, we're going to an Alice in Wonderland-themed afternoon tea, which I think is very appropriate for Ace! Aaaaaah, My Alice in Wonderland-loving heart can’t take it 😭

Rise and Shine!

He was having a pleasant dream.

There was a path, and the longer he walked on that path, the more the scenery morphed into nonsense.

First was a forest full of twisting turns, colorful signs that pointed this way and that. There was mewing coming from the trees overhead, but every time he looked, he’d find no one there.

Next was a field of progressively bigger and bigger plants. The flowers had faces set in them, and they taunted Ace as he passed. He had plucked the underside of a mushroom cap and chomped down on it. A mistake—Ace had an out-of-body experience, ballooning to the size of a giant and then back to his regular size.

Then he washed away in a sea of tea, spilling from a gigantic glass bottle labelled Drink Me. He swam with the sugar cubes drifting in the fragrant rapids. He caught a current of milk and rode it past trees of chocolate. A dollop of grape jam had dropped down from a branch and landed on his nose.

When Ace, at last, fished himself out of the tea, he was left sticky, skin caked in sugar. As he made to wring his clothes of Darjeeling, he spotted an iced cookie by his feet. Eat Me, it said. There was a trail of them, confections dotting the road ahead in a neat trail. He had followed it—followed until the cookies became crumbs and he was left wandering in a white void, a blank canvas.

Wandering… wandering… where?

Just as that question cropped up like an unwanted weed in an otherwise flawless lawn, a soft sound tickled his ear.

Someone was calling his name.

Who is it…?

He picked up his pace. A casual stroll to a speed walk, then a speed walk into a jog, a job into a run, then a run into a full-on sprint.

"I'm coming! I'm coming already, darn it!!" Ace shouted into the blinding white. "I'm coming, so...!!"

Wait for me. I'll meet you there.

I'll definitely, definitely...!!

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on his back, wrapped up in his comforter and staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Ace blinked several times, slowly adjusting to the sunlight that was spilling in through drawn curtains. A groan escaped him--it was too early for this.

“Mmm… What time is it?” He rolled over in a groggy daze, reaching for his phone. It was still connected to a charger, but it snapped right out of its socket when Ace jolted up. "WHAT?!"

The time, it couldn't be correct. But the line of text messages in his history confirmed the building dread in his stomach.

Gm, Ace! I'll be over soon. Cya then.

I'm here!

Hey, are you up? It's 10 minutes past.

Did you stay up late talking to your bro and sleep through your alarm again?

Hellooooo?

I'm gonna leave without you if you don't come out in 5 minutes.

"Crap, I'm running late!!"

Ace leapt out of bed and flew across his room. The comics and magazines littering his mattress scattered to the floor, but he didn't stop to pick them up.

He moved like lightning, hurriedly dressing and rushing into the communal washroom. While he brushed his teeth with one hand (lest he face the wrath of his vice dorm leader), he teased out his hair with the other. After splashing his face with water (who was going to clock him, Vil?), Ace scribbled on his signature heart, grabbed his backpack, and slipped into his sneakers.

He had his technique down pat thanks to years of practice.

Ace bolted down the hall, stuffing a protein bar into his mouth as he cleared the door. The day greeted him--and so did you, glancing up from your own phone.

"There you are! You kept me waiting, wise guy," you lectured him. It wasn't anything serious--not like his dorm leader's lengthy tirades--just paling around.

"Excuse you," Ace huffed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm fashionably late. There's a difference."

You laughed. Typical of him to always have a snappy comeback prepared.

"Well, c'mon then, fashionably late loser," you urged, playfully nudging his arm, "or we'll both be tardy."

"We'll be late, but at least we'll be late together," he grumbled, nudging you back. "That's fine by me. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be stuck in a room with ya for the afternoon."

"That's a weird way of describing detention with Crewel-sensei."

"What can I say? I'm a poet," he shrugged, letting his sarcasm drip like thick nectar. "Besides, I can't leave you hangin'."

"No?" Your eyebrows hitched. "Funny, cuz I clearly remember you ditching me for cleaning duty on the first day of classes. I almost thought you had left for class without me today too."

"Oi, that was then and this is now! Come on, do you really think I'd do that to you? Me? Really?"

"Absolutely," you said without missing a beat.

"Pfft. You're so wrong about that." He rolled his eyes. "If you were really that worried that I'd gone without you, you could've poked your head in to check on me."

You frowned. "That'd mean I'd have to go into your room."

"So? I've been over at your place and in your room before. What's the big deal? You'd just be returning the favor."

He leaned in, so close that your noses almost touched. Your heart stood still. The corners of Ace's mouth lifted into a smirk. It suited him well, loathe as you were to admit it.

"Or is it that you're being shy?" he asked in a singsong. "Prefect 🎵"

"I-I'm not!" you squeaked, stepping back to put distance between the two of you. "Quit assuming things, Ace! This is why you're so annoying."

"And who is it that's decided to hang out with my 'annoying' ass, huh?" he countered smoothly.

"Urgh...! Maybe I shouldn't have wasted my time waiting for you to get ready after all..." you muttered, turning away from him. "My morning would be way more peaceful without you."

"Way less interesting too," he quipped--getting in the last word.

You shook your head, but didn't bring yourself to argue. However meddlesome his tongue was, he had spoken the naked truth.

He's trouble, that Trappola.

[daydaydayrk420]

So basically...

Could I please request a fluff smut with a male reader and Tony Stark where Tony wants to have sex with reader (for the first time) but when he asks reader about it reader feels conflicted and uncomfortable about it thanks to his trauma? To the point of breaking down?

Tony is sorry and comforts him, telling him they don't have to do anything. Reader calms down and tells him he would love to but he doesn't know...how. He was never loved and never loved anyone, never had sex, etc.

So Tony takes it as a challenge to make him as comfortable as possible, talk to him, comfort him, love him and stuff and they both make the most loving and mind blowing sex? Ofc reader's the top and Tony the bottom.

Backstory: Reader used to be a soldier on his home planet, but his people lost in the last one, the remaining got locked up, tortured and killed. He thankfully escaped and ended up on earth. Avengers found him (after causing a mass hysteria that there's a feral devil on the loose) and gave him a safe space under the condition he would become an Avenger. Through his time recovering he got close to Tony who was curious about his kind/race and story (also because he's a huge hot buffed guy).

Reader comes off as cold, stoic, almost insensitive, but it's just him not tolerating bullshit. He's also not naive or dumb.

Reade's not a monster ofc, he's just been through a lot. In reality he's a loyal, kind, loving and gentle gigant.

Tony also likes him because he laughs at his stupid jokes (they both gossip and hate on Steve), listens to him and they both understand each other because both know how it feels to be the black sheep and unlovable. They hit it so well together they started "dating".

Reader never was in love and could never be with someone, have sex or have a family, being stripped of such privileges because he was only a soldier, just a tool to kill and win battles, if you survive you survive, you die and you die. Sex was also used as a tool to only make children or as a way to punish or reward someone (not him). The saddest thing was that he thought, from the day he was born, that this was the way of living and he never questioned it. His time on earth ofc changed it, Tony changed it.

Thank you for the opportunity love~! ❤️

God dayum. You sure you don't want to start a blog too? XD

My first request!! I'll try my best!! And thank you for all the details I won't have to write XD

How do I do this

Tony stark X male reader

⚠️trauma, first time, soft sex, bottom Tony, top male reader, marking, creampie⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Screams.

That's all he hears when he sleeps.

Which is what he's hearing right now. He can't help but thrash around in the bed. Mumbling soft pleas for silence.

"Y/n" Tony mumbles as he rubs his eyes. He looks at the sleeping giant. Sleeping is a strong word.

Tony and Y/n have somehow become a couple. It started with Tony calling him Winter Soldier 2.0. Then Tony changed his mind about his cold and lifeless demeanor when he heard him laugh at a poorly made joke. Since then Tony has been making jokes left and right just so he could hear that laugh again. One day they were the only ones in the tower so Tony used it as an excuse to get to know him.

They actually share a lot in common. They both have trauma and absent fathers, and they both hate Steve.

They've gotten so close they practically became a couple but they never really specified it.

"Y/n" Tony calls out again to try and wake the giant. Y/N only grunts in response and twitches in his sleep. Tony leans over and kisses his forehead. Y/n sits up wide-eyed and looks around.

"Easy big guy. It's just me." Tony took his hand. Y/N lets out a sigh and lays down. He runs a hand over his face in frustration. Tony lays his head on the giant's chest and traces his faint scars. Y/n closes his eyes and rests his free hand on the smaller man's head.

"Your planet?" Tony asks even though he already knows an answer. Y/n just nods not wanting to talk about it. Y/n's home planet is probably dead by now. He doubts anyone is left.

Tony kisses his chest gently. Y/n tenses not used such care or touch in general. He only started sleeping in Tony's room two days ago. So this position is new to him. Why is he shirtless? He sleeps without his shirt in this weather. Which gives Tony more access of course.

Tony caresses the giant's chest and lulls him to sleep.

The next morning y/n wakes up to breakfast in bed. Tony is making sure the tray is secure and stable as y/n moves. "Morning sleepyhead." Y/n only response with a soft hum. He's still a bit disoriented.

"I made you some pancakes." Tony smiled and sat down next to him. "Did you or did you hire a chef?" Y/n jokes. Tony shrugs. They both know he can't cook.

The day goes on like any other. There's no missions to go through so the tower is pretty calm. Most of the people are either home or somewhere at the park. But Tony and y/n are in the tower. Watching TV. "Baby?" Tony's voice suddenly calls out and grabs Y/N's attention. He looks down at the smaller man and tilts his head.

Tony is looking at him with something in his eyes the giant doesn't understand.

"Can we have sex?" Tony asks bluntly. The giant is stunned. His eyes widen as he looks at the younger man with uncertainty. "Tony i-" "please?" Tony begged with puppy eyes. The giant shakes his head. "I don't know..."

Tony tilts his head. Trying to understand what's wrong and why he doesn't like the idea.

Y/n looks at Tony. "I was never in a relationship Tony. Everything we do is new to me. Including that." His confession made Tony's eyes widen. He never thought of that as a possibility. But considering y/n was raised as a soldier since day one was an understatement. Tony lets out a quiet "oh.." as he thinks of all the possibilities his unofficial lover would be comfortable with.

"I won't force you into anything. But I will make it my mission to make you as comfortable with it as possible." Tony said with determination. The giant smiles. He feels warm in his chest as he realizes how different his current life is. And how Tony makes it better.

Tony kept his word and every day he made the baby steps forward. He started with more physical touch. Holding hands whenever he could. Running his hand over the giant's shoulder, giving massages, high fives when he was playful. Which of course made y/n make use of his height and always put his hand high up so Tony had to jump up. He was getting more comfortable.

Then he started giving more kisses. Pecks on the cheek. Morning pecks on the lips when the giant wouldn't want to wake up. Pecks on the chest or anywhere Tony could reach when the gentle giant didn't want to bend down. Sometimes Tony would climb on a desk to be on eye level with y/n. The giant found that amusing. And adorable.

Then he started to show his body more. Y/n is used to sleeping shirtless and sometimes in just his boxers. But Tony? This is unusual for him. He starts off by wearing more revealing clothes. Like a thin tank top. Or a band crop top. Then he started sleeping without pants with only a large shirt and loose boxers. He made sure to cuddle with the giant so he could get used to their skin touching. Then he removed the shirt and started only sleeping in his boxers.

And now? He walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing and laid on the bed like nothing was unusual. Y/n on the other hand is staring. Not with hunger. But with confusion. He didn't realize he was staring but Tony knew. He was filled with butterflies as he thought that this could be the night.

"Did you forget to wash your laundry again?" Y/n asks with genuine curiosity and confusion. Tony can't help but laugh at his boyfriend's cluelessness. "No. I've been getting hot in bed recently with the summer heat so I decided to shed some clothes." Tony lied. Well not really. It is pretty hot but the actual truth as to why he's naked is that he wants his lover to get comfortable with the nudity.

"Oh." The giant looks ahead of himself as he thinks that it's a good idea. It is pretty hot tonight. He removes the sheets and stands up. Tony watches with curiosity. Y/n removes his boxers too. Tony shamelessly looks down. And he is very satisfied with the view. He knows his boyfriend is a giant. But he didn't imagine it being that big.

Tony feels his dick get hard against the mattress. He blushes and stays lying on his belly. He doesn't want y/n to be uncomfortable.

But he didn't realize that the giant had gotten used to their every nightcuddles he would notice how he was not already throwing his tiny arms around him as soon as he laid down.

"Tony?" Y/n asks confused. Tony snaps out of it and looks at the giant. He didn't realize he had laid down next to him. "Yeah?" His voice comes out shaky.

"Are you alright?" The giant runs his hand over the smaller man's back. He felt the sudden shiver his touch caused and raised an eyebrow. Tony buried his face in the pillow. He doesn't know why he's feeling like this. He's been with both men and women before obviously. But y/n's touch had a different effect on his body than anyone else. Y/n realizes what's happening. But he doesn't stop. No. His body is screaming for more. So his hand moves on its own. Lower. And lower.

Tony moans into the pillow which only fuels the giant's needs. The giant watches his hand move as he contemplates the situation. But he kept going. Until he reached the curve of Tony's ass. Tony whines as the hand stops. "Why'd you stop?" His voice is quiet and shaky as he lifts his head from the pillow. He looks at the gentle giant and pauses. He can see the hesitation. He can practically hear the cogwheels breaking.

"Hey." He sits up and takes Y/N's hands. He looks into his eyes and smiles softly. "We don't have to do it." He said softly as he caressed the giant's knuckles. The giant in return was staring at the smaller man's body. The way his dick was hard and yet he's still saying that it's okay to leave it. He looks Into the smaller man's eyes. "I want to..." He whispers. Tony's heart exploded.

"Are you sure?" He has to make sure. He'd be lying if he would be disappointed if he said no. But fuck does he need him. And he knows forcing it won't do anything. The giant nods. But Tony wants to hear it. He needs to hear it. "Use your words big guy." Tony whispered as he kneeled and leaned closer. Y/n'd eyes fall to his lips. "I need you." That's all Tony needs for his mind to go blank and his lips fall against the giants.

Y/n is fast to respond. His larger hand is cupping the smaller man's cheek as he deepens the kiss. Tony moans and wraps his arms around the bigger man's shoulders. The giant takes his time and slowly moves his hands down the smaller man's boy. He wants to memorize everything. Every inch of his skin.

"Tony..." Y/n moaned. Tony's knees buckled. He always imagined him moaning his name but he didn't think it would affect him that much.

All he knows is that he doesn't want it to end. Once the giant's hands reach the smaller man's thighs he slowly lowers him onto the bed.

They separate for air. Tony looks up with cloudy eyes and shivers once he sees the primal hunger staring dead at him. Even if his eyes are hungry, he can still see their gentle care.

Y/n kisses down to his chest and gently marks it. "Do you uh... Do you have any lu-" Before he can finish Tony is already pulling lube from under his pillow and handing it to him. The giant chuckles and takes it.

He wets his fingers. He reaches down and barely circles Tony's hole. Even if it's a featherlight touch it makes his stomach burst with butterflies. Y/n watches every reaction as he does what feels right. He carefully inserts the first digit of his middle finger.

Judging by Tony's whines he assumes he's doing it right. So he moves his finger around and pushes further in whenever the tight ring of muscle will allow him.

Tony whines and moves his hips against the giant finger. He may be going slow and easy but his larger fingers make it feel like he stuffed in two at once.

"Oh my fucking god." He groans and arches his back. Y/n stops and looks at the smaller man with worry. "Did I hurt you?" He starts to pull his finger out but Tony growls. "Don't you fucking stop." Y/N hesitates. He's never seen him like this. He doesn't like it. It feels like an order and that makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't pull his finger out but he doesn't move it either. Tony realizes what he said and forces himself to relax. "Please don't stop." This time his voice is more gentle and pleading.

Y/n looks through Tony's eyes. He relaxes and slowly moves his finger again. Tony lets out a really high-pitched moan. He moves his hips against the giant hand asking for more. So the giant slowly adds a second one.

Y/n keeps watching Tony making sure he's doing everything right and that he's comfortable. Tony is not here with his mind. He's too focused on the large fingers stretching him out. If this is how he feels from the fingers he doesn't want to know how pathetic he'll be once he gets the real deal.

"Please please please please" Tony whimpers for more. Y/n doesn't know what he's begging for so he only adds a third finger. Tony groans and arches his back. He knows he has to be stretched well for a man his size. But fuck was he getting impatient. He has to wait, for y/n's sake and comfort.

"Are you feeling good?" Y/n asks and gently moves his three fingers. Tony wants to laugh but all that comes out are moans. "SO good."

The giant nods and speeds up a bit. He also is getting impatient.

Tony basically crumbles in his hands as his fingers hit the right spot that makes him see stars. "Tony I need you" Y/n whines as he begs for permission to get on top. Tony whines too. "I need you too."

That's all it takes for Y/N to remove his fingers and tower over the smaller man. He pauses a bit to admire how Tony looks. Eyes half-lidded and face flush with pink.

Y/n suddenly realizes what's happening and is filled with hesitation again. Does Tony actually want this? Does he want it? Does Tony have a box of condoms somewhere? Do they even make his size?

"Y/n?" Tony's concerned voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Y/n looks at him. "Hm?" He whispered. Tony reached up to caress his cheek. "We don't have to if you're not ready." His voice is soft and sweet.

Y/N takes a deep shaky breath. They have already gone so far.

"Should we use a condom?" Y/n whispers. Tony relaxes and lets out a chuckle. "I don't think I have one your size big guy." The giant lets out a small chuckle at Tony's teasing.

He grabs the lube and squirts some into his hand. He makes sure to lube himself up as best as he can. Tony shivers as he realizes that's about to be inside him. He grabs a pillow and rests it under his hips.

Y/n adds a little bit more lube to the smaller man's hole and throws the bottle aside. He lines up and looks up into the smaller man's eyes. He waits for permission. Tony also looks up and nods.

The giant slowly slides the tip in. Shivers go through his whole body at the unfamiliar sensations. His mind goes blank as he keeps pushing in. A soft whimper from Tony snaps him out of his daze and makes him freeze in the spot. He looks up at the smaller man's face afraid he hurt him. The smaller man shifts a bit getting used to the larger size. He's been with men who got lucky with their sizes before but never like this. Which is obvious considering that the man is a literal giant from a different planet.

Tony whines and holds his abdomen. Y/n gives him time to adjust. In the meantime, he caresses and kisses the smaller man's body.

"I'm good." Tony breathes out. The giant nods and slowly pulls out and then slowly pushes back in. He repeats that multiple times until he finally bottoms out. They both let out loud moans. Y/n moans because of the new feeling. And Tony moans out because of the large bulge that has appeared under his hand.

"Oh my god, you feel so good, Tony." The giant moans as he rests his forehead on the smaller man Tony uses his free hand to run it through the larger man's hair. "You feel amazing Y/n."

They just hold each other like that until Tony commands for more.

The giant nods and slowly pulls out and then slowly pushes back in. He moves slowly. Pouring all his love and passion into his touches and kisses. Tony whines and begs for more but the giant never complies. It's his first time and he wants to memorize everything about it. Y/n angles his hips trying to find the right spot that makes Tony let out one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard. You'd think that with a size like that, he'd be hitting it every time. You're not wrong but it does take a certain angle for the actual pleasure to spread through Tony's body.

So he finds the perfect angle and makes sure to hit it every time he can. Tony becomes a whimpering mess. His nails are clawing at the bigger man's back and his back arches right into Y/n's touch. The way his back is arched gives the giant better access to kiss and mark his body. Y/n never gave anyone a hickey. Only bruises. But it¨s basically the same thing. Right? So he does anything he can think of that would make a hickey. He bites harder than just a nibble but that only leaves a love bite. He licks it and that reminds him of how Tony gave him a hickey once. He remembers he sucked on the skin. so he does just that.

He sucks in a good chunk of Tony's pec and bites it too for a longer effect. Tony practically screams out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god, you're so deep. How are you so deep." Tony moans and keeps resting his hand right above the abdomen. Y/n can only grunt out in response as he holds him close. His body is tingling in multiple places. He doesn't know why but he doesn't want it to stop.

"oh fuck fuck fuck fuck wait-" Before Tony can call out in time he's covering his belly in white sticky streaks. Y/n only watches in amazement at how Tony's body can squirt and squirm in his arms. But he's nowhere close. Not that he can tell. He wants to continue but thinks he should give the poor man a break. So he slows his thrusts. Tony is blissed out of his mind but the moment the thrusts slow more than they already make him snap out of it.

"Don't stop." Tony calls out in panic. He doesn't want this night to end yet. The giant hasn't even cummed yet! Of course, he doesn't want to stop. "Please don't stop." He pleaded instead of ordering around. Y/n nods and starts to move again. Tony's body shakes as it's slowly being overstimulated.

But he only begs for more. And the giant gives him more. His chest is covered in large deeply colored hickeys.

"Yes yes yes yes." Tony chants with shaky breaths as he shakes with extreme and pleasurable overstimulation.

It takes everything in y/n to hold back the urge to rut into the smaller man. But he keeps fighting his urges because he wants this night to be the night when he takes care of Tony.

Tony's nails dig deep enough into the bigger man's back. Which causes the giant to groan out. He can feel the blood on his back but he doesn't care. He loves how everything feels. How he feels. How his Tony feels. His Tony. His. "Mine" Y/n growls out before he can think and marks the small spots of Tony's skin that haven't been marked yet.

The smaller man grips onto the giant's hair and cries out. His body is so sensitive it's overwhelming. "Holly fuck!"

Y/n starts to feel a tingling sensation in his abdomen. Is this it? Is he close? "Tony" He moans. "I think I'm close." He whines and buries his face in the smaller man's neck. Tony whimpered and wrapped his shaky and barely working legs around the bigger mans hips. "Me too."

Y/n manages to give a couple more deep thrusts before that tingling sensation in his abdomen changes into a warm feeling that spreads throughout his body as he spills himself into Tony. He moans loudly and drops his head. His forehead rests on Tony's chest who's also shivering from his climax. The overstimulation has caused to make Tony to squirm more than before which made his streeks of cum reach further and some even reached y/n's cheek. Which only gets him to chuckle and lift his head up to look at the art under him. He smiles to himself as he watches how Tony uncontrollably whimpered and shook.

Eventually Y/n finally pulled out and left to grab something to clean up with.

Tony's arms fall to his stomach. His eyes fall closed and a small smile forms on his face. He feels a bit bloated with how much y/n has cummed but oh god does he love it.

The gentle giant returns with a warm wet rug and crawls back into bed to clean the smaller man up. But he stops once he sees how happy Tony looks as he holds his belly. He admires him for a while. Tony's hair is a mess, his eyes are closed, he's smiling so sweetly, and his chest is covered in large hickeys. Y/n can also feel how his back is burning from the multiple scratches the smaller man left behind. Especially the deeper ones. He gently touches Tony's dick to clean him up which makes his body jolt. "You're so responsive." He chuckles. Tony mumbled. "I'm so overstimulated every little touch will make my body jump." He responds tiredly but there's no annoyance behind his words. Only satisfaction and bliss.

Once they're both clean Y/n lays down. But his back burns with immediate protest which makes him wince and flip onto his stomach. Tony turns his head and looks at the bigger man with worry. His eyes widen once he sees the scratched red marks he left behind. "Oh god, I'm so sorry." Y/n chuckles at his reaction and turns his head to the side to face him. "I like it." That made Tony relax. He wants to so desperately move closer and cuddle the larger man but his body wouldn't respond even if he tried.

"Cuddles in the morning then?" He teased. The giant chuckles in response but nods. "Happily."

Before they both fell asleep Y/n spoke up with a sleepy tone. "Will you be my boyfriend?" Tony lets out a sleepy chuckle and responds with also a sleepy tone. "Of course, I will numbnuts."

They both fell asleep with goofy smiles on their faces.

[snowsinterlude]

omggg your fics deserves so much more attention they are so good , I love how you write coriolanus. what do you think about corio with a size kink, a girl thats so much shorter than him and on the more skinnier side giving him an ego boost because of how he could move her the way he wants ahh

omg i love this questiooonn!!!!!!! love them size kink girlies. truly. a kiss on your cheek for asking me that. love you!! i hope you like it!!

c.w: rough sex, size kink, dirty talk, tummy bulge, dumbification, praising, degrading and aftercare.

first of all, we need to understand that coryo is 6'0ft tall. which means, he's not gigantic, but near you?? man he looks like a building.

at first he was afraid to hurt you during intimacy, but seeing you squirm down his body as he hold both your arms and watches the small bulge on your stomach as he fucks you seems to flinch something inside him.

he turned out to be so rough. not as if you're complaining, though. you loved him. and you loved to see him being so eager to have his cock hitting your uterus and filling you with his size.

you gave him all the consent to be rough to you, but he always told you to feel free to stop him if he's hurting you in any way.

you loved him so much!! his cock fucking you dumb, making your thoughts a bunch of smeared numb images as he fucked you.

and he loved you even more, the way you boosted his ego through your words was terribly flattering for him.

"too big, too big!!" was the main thing you'd be squealing when he finally thrusted hard and deep inside you, his eyes focusing on your face and your body, so pretty, so small. he loves making a mess out of you. "coryo, please!!"

your words woke him up, his thrusts becoming steady and slow.

"what is it? is it hurting you, princess?" he asked, kissing your temple.

"n-no, please, keep going! i-i'm almost there!" you said, crying as he fucked every thought of your pretty head. "you're so big, please! it's s-so deep, so good, ah!"

and your words would always make him chuckle, his thumb softly rubbing your clit as he tortured you and get you over the edge. you could cum all he wanted, and he wouldn’t deny how much his ego seemed to be massaged by the thought of being so good that he could make you cum multiple times. he would fuck you in every human possible position, and his favorite would still be missionary, cause everytime your eyes looked into his you would be blurting out a bunch of "fuck, i love you! coryo, pleease! i love you, too much!" and he loved you too, don't worry.

"god, you're such a slut." he said, groaning as he frowned at the sight of your hand resting on the bulge on your stomach, he felt so good. too good. too deep. too fucking good. and you would always let him know that. "who'd know such a pretty girl could make the dirtiest sounds?"

being called a pretty girl, a dirty whore, a dirty princess, a beautiful slut, always seemed to get a raise out of you, and you, of course, would cry on his cock, crying until he came and pulled out of you.

aftercare would be the sweetest time ever, he would help you bathe cause you would always be too fucked to have a quick bath, there was a time he found you sleeping on the bathtub, and even if he found it cute, he didn’t want you to be sick afterwards, so he started bathing with you, washing your hair and cuddling with you as you slept peacefully on his chest.

[suzukiblu]

Day six of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim’s the one who hesitates this time, and Kon looks increasingly mortified and uncomfortable and anxious and like he might be about to just– 

“I do,” Tim says finally, because he does and also because he can’t stand making Kon look like that; because his chest literally hurts, seeing Kon look like that. Did Kon think that wasn’t–did he think that was a question, somehow? “I–yeah. Yes. I like you. That’s not–I definitely like you.” 

He just really hopes that when he says that, Kon isn’t hearing . . . something different. 

Hearing something different than what he means, is what he means by that. 

“But you don't wanna do anything,” Kon says to the alley wall, rubbing a hand up his arm and fidgeting restlessly. “Like–you took me to the planetarium last time and like, it was cool and I dug it, don't get me wrong, I just . . . I thought when you said you had plans for after dinner you wanted to, like, get a room or something. And when I said all that stuff about, you know–when I said you could take, you know, pics and stuff, it seemed like you were into it then, but when I actually, like, you know . . . I just . . . am I doing something wrong? Like–I don’t get it. I'm always the one making the moves and I just–am I fucking something up here or what?” 

“No,” Tim says, and his voice is definitely, definitely too tight now. “Definitely not. I–what about that makes you think you're doing something wrong?” 

“I just–thought you liked me,” Kon says with a helpless wince. 

“I do,” Tim repeats. He just–he doesn’t know what to say here. This isn’t Robin with a victim; this is Tim, and . . . 

Kon’s his friend, even without all the rest of it. Even if they never did any of this at all. 

“But you don’t wanna do anything to me,” Kon says, which is just what he already said except for the part where this time he says the quiet part out loud, and Tim thinks yes, because you just PHRASED it that way.

He hesitates again, then just . . . reaches out–awkwardly, kind of–and takes Kon’s hands. It’s not a natural instinct for him, but–Kon’s tactile, after all. So . . . tactile, Tim figures. Just . . . something tactile, to start. 

And something tactile that does not involve effectively their entire bodies being pressed together, because that is really not a situation in which he can think straight, or possibly even think at all. Just . . . 

Definitely not, yeah. 

He just needs to figure out how to navigate this without making Kon feel shitty about it. He can do that. Robin could do that, so Tim Drake can figure something out. 

“I want to do things with you, to be clear,” he says, clearing his throat again. “Just–establishing that, before anything else. Just, uh, some of this is moving a little . . . fast, for me.” 

He figures that’s an easier way to phrase it without making Kon feel like he’s wrong for . . . acting like this. Figures it’s a better way to ease him into the realization that it’s not . . . necessary behavior, if nothing else. 

It’s definitely wrong, but that’s not Kon’s fault. 

He just really hopes that saying something like that isn’t going to make Tim Drake seem like a prude or boring or–like, Kon’s so eager for attention and specifically flirtatious attention and isn’t used to–

Tim, briefly, remembers the toy store. Remembers thinking that Kon was used to confident older women and the celebrity treatment, and not–“stupid kiddie stuff”, he’d thought then. And he remembers the coffee shop, and thinking that Kon didn’t seem to know how to talk to civilians except by hitting on them. 

He is such an idiot. 

He is such a huge, gigantic, unfathomable idiot.

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

-

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

-

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

-

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

[thegnomelord]

I love your monster au so much. It makes the monsterlover/fucker in me real happy. Sorry just wanted to share my appreciation.

I've been thinking too, how would you feel about writing a underwater sea creature reader? (No pressure but I hope this idea tickles your fancy so I'll infodump my ideas on you) They can live on land and stuff but drag their prospective mate into a deep underwater ravine when they want to mate. Idk how to describe it, like I have an idea in my head of what the creature's traits would be but I can't find a way to put it into words.

I'm going to give it a try though, (excuse the fact it won't make much sense, my thoughts jump around a lot. But I'll try and make it coherent.) Basically, my mind went to underwater dragons. So with most of the traits that you wrote for dragons, like the purring and the tails intertwining (and the sharing of scales). But I was thinking without wings, because you don't need them underwater. But we glow in the dark, because we are deepsea creatures we have adapted to become bioluminescent. Oh and also we have gills and stuff still when we are on land.

Idk if this is confusing or just something you don't want to write but I was hoping for you to include a more sfw part with the mating dance maybe and then then an actual nsfw part (dom top male reader??)

But at the end of the day this is just a suggestion and it's up to you if you want to write it or not. (If you do write it can it be with ghost or gaz?? gaz giving us shiny things but sea related, like shells? and/or ghost struggling through knowing how to court us. Both of them being confused of what to do because we are a new type of dragon that not many people knew existed and our courting traditions are mostly unknown??

Okay this is cool and it tickles my brain of having just this big fucking monster that's gigantic due to deep sea gigantism :D, I also picked Gaz cause I like the sea/sky duality.

CW:NSFW, subbot gaz, domtop Mreader, quick and rough

When you first joined the taskforce, Gaz didn't know what to expect. Your species had been newly discovered, barely any information about you, but something about you put some ancient part of his mind on edge, ants nipping on the sinew of his wings until his body begged to return to the safety of the sky.

First time he met you, you reminded him less of a dragon and more of a Leviathan — something that dwelled where the light didn't reach, far too big than anything should be allowed to be, bright bioluminescent markings shimmering against dark scales to lure prey into crushing jaws filled with sharp crooked teeth, horns like spears to pin down what couldn't fit in your maw, powerful legs built to swim and breach the surface of the water to catch unaware flyers like Gaz just to pull them down into the abyss to be devoured.

He would have been more. . . unsettled by you had you not been so nice.

You towered over him even in your mostly human form, but you were a gentle giant, happy to let him use you as a perch and humming along as he talks, joining in on his and Johnny's pranks and hiding them when Price eventually catches them.

And Gaz doesn't even notice when your presence no longer makes his feathers puff up, the shadow you cast over him now warm and welcoming after all the times you'd been a meat shield for him. He tils his head back to catch sight of your eyes as he leans back, soft feathers rubbing against your clothes, "Hey there big man." Gaz smiled.

You hum, your hand coming to loosely hold his hip, holding the pretty thing close to you. "Hi." You purr, the small biolights along your body flickering in seemingly random patterns, but nothing about them was random to you or your kin, your interest in him painfully obvious.

But to your dismay Gaz doesn't understand, just snorts at your colorful display. "What's got you in a good mood today?" He asks, eyes tracing the dancing lights, that instinctual bird part of his mind liking the sight, and the low rumble of your voice, and just. . . being near you.

You blink, "You," You say simply, your people aren't ones to mince words.

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your declaration, feathers puffing up, but strikes down any thoughts about you before they turn inappropriate and cause him to coo at you. "Fine, keep yer secrets." He huffs and gets out of your hold, wings stretching out to purposely show off his feathers as he walks away, tail feathers flickering.

He can feel your eyes follow after him, hummingbirds pecking at his spine and he doesn't know if he should feel that way. And all you can think of is how you could drag your pretty bird down into the abyss without clipping his wings.

. . .

Gaz watches you lazily swim around the lake near their current base in your real form, "Havin' a nice soak in there Nessie?" He asks as he walks the short pier and sits down, dipping his feet in the water as his wings spread out lazily behind him.

A low rumble leaves you like a distorted whale song, your large form pushing through the water like a submarine cutting through the ice. "Nessie?" You ask as swim over to him, "Who's that?"

"Never mind about that," Kyle grins, his eyes roaming along your large form as the biolights flicker once again in that specific pattern that means nothing to him but everything to you. "You look happy."

You shrug, "It's nice to be back in the water." Without a word you heave yourself out of the water and onto the pier, large hands clutching the wood on either side of him, a deep purr rumbling in your chest at how close he is to you now. "Did you need something?" You ask, biolights flickering seductively.

Kyle swallows drily, eyes going wide as he registers you loom over him, can smell the sea and salt still clinging to your scales, something other than fear buzzing down his spine from how close your dangerous teeth are to him. "Oh, right, uh," He clears his throat to clear the molasses clinging to it, wings spreading out in a way that got his feathers shining in the setting sun as he reached into his pocket.

"I, um. . . I got you this." He said, holding out the seashell he'd found for you. His breath caught in his throat as you looked at it, hoping you liked it; he'd spent hours polishing it until it was shining, the colors vibrant and every single scratch buffed out.

"Thank you," You rumbled and took the seashell into your hand. Your pupils dilated, a very pleased purr rumbling in your chest — oh, he was so thoughtful, such a good mate to bring a rare treat for you.

Kyle felt like a bloody peacock at the way his wings spread out, but he couldn't care less about his posturing when you accepted his gift, his heart fluttering like butterflies in a jar.

Then you ate it.

You ate his gift.

His heart shatters like the seashell between your fangs, wings dropping like a rock, never having expected to be rejected like that. "I- what- why did- if you-" He couldn't even form words to say what he wanted, pressing a hand to his face in an attempt to hide the way his eyes prickled with vestiges of tears.

Unfortunately for him, you notice. "Oh, little bird, what's wrong?" Your voice is soothing, biolights pulsing in a slow and calming way as you gently pry his hand from his face, looking into his eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

Kyle doesn't look you in the eyes, doesn't know what the hell to feel right now, the words spewing out of his mouth before he could control them. "Why would you do that!" He hisses.

You tilt your head. "You gifted it to me." You say like it's supposed to explain everything, reaching up to cup his cheek, your clawed hand cold and wet against his skin. "It was very good." You lean in closer, a deep purr rumbling in your throat, your long tail moving to curl around his leg.

Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as you push you loom over him your hands on either sides of him keeping him in place, feeling himself slowly lay back as you creep over him onto the pier, heart drumming in his chest. "Wh-what?"

You snort, eyes glowing like anglerfish lures, lowering your head down to lick a stripe up his neck, claws raking down his front. "Let me show you my appreciation, yes?"

Kyle shivers at the sensation of your teeth against his throat, body heating up, your scent — of sea and salt and something very very old — invading his nose, an involuntary chirp escaping his chest. "Ah, yeah, sure just-" Kyle yelps as your claws cut through his clothes, wings quivering as they're pressed against the wooden pier behind him.

"Relax little bird," You coo softly, licking around his lips in what counts as a kiss for you when your maw is filled with vicious teeth, tongue trailing down to lick up the drops of his salty sweat. "I'll be gentle."

And gentle you are; softly licking up the blood after your fangs had left marks on his skin, sharp claws holding his trembling hips tenderly as your rough tongue worms inside him, soft purrs and deep rumbles vibrating your tongue against his prostate until he's sobbing, his hands clutching your horns to hold your head closer as his cock leaks a puddle of pre onto his abdomen.

He whines when you continue stretching him with your tongue, "Please, mate, just-" Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as your tongue once again grazes his prostate, thighs clenching around your head. "-just please fuck me already! I can't- I'm not going to-"

Kyle sobs with joy and anguish when you pull your tongue out, the slimy appendage slithering back into your maw and leaving him painfully empty. "Alright, alright," You coo, moving up to drape your body over his, nuzzling your cheek against his as you line your hard cock with his stretched hole. "Relax,"

The tip of your cock breaching his puckered hole has Kyle sucking in a sharp breath, "Easier said than done mate," He chuckles, closing his eyes and just trying to focus on your scent and just you, groaning. Fuck, you're big in all aspects, his body clenching down like a vice before relaxing enough for you to slowly push further, spreading his walls wide until you're fully inside him, your hips resting against his.

"There you go," You purr, letting Kyle adjust as you nibble on his neck, biolights flickering happily when he rocks his hips into yours. "Taking me so well,"

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your words, throwing his head back when you rock your hips, cock hard and heavy inside him, dragging against his walls with every minute movement that has him panting and whining, his legs crossing behind your back to pull your hips closer every time you pull out.

The world escapes your notice, all your attention fully on him as you focus on mating him, pulling needy desperate sounds from Kyle's lips, your large hand gently stroking his leaking dick as your cock rubs against his prostate, your unhurried pace making him cum again and again and again until he's a moaning boneless mess by the time you cum inside him.