#going to be a little embarrassing if not many people see this

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

[unusualtfs]

Public Transformation Network

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

You looked up from the online textbook you’d been reading. And up. And up. Looming over your bus seat was an absolute behemoth of a man. His black hair was slick with sweat, a clear sign he’d just been at the gym, although his beefy physique and rank musk could’ve clued you in just as easily.

“S-sorry, what?” you stammered.

The guy responded with an easygoing smile on his broad, bearded face. “Your phone. Could I borrow it for a sec? I’m visiting my bro, but my phone’s outta juice and I forget what stop to get off at. I just need to call him real quick.” His voice was deep and vacuous.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said. “Knock yourself out.” You placed your phone in his meaty bronze hand, carefully trying not to notice how dainty and pale your fingers looked compared to his sausages.

With nothing else to do, you watched awkwardly from your seat as he dialed his friend’s number. “Yo dude, it’s me,” he greeted boisterously. “Yeah I’m on the bus using this nerdy guy’s phone right now, mine fuckin’ ran out, haha…”

You blinked in outrage, and embarrassment. “Nerdy guy”??? Just because you wore a white button-down, and had a mousy brown mop and a complete lack of facial hair, and your entire body was skinnier than his arm, didn’t make you a nerd! You had a leather knapsack — those were cool, weren’t they? Anyways.

As the bus continued on, you caught snippets of the conversation unfolding in front of you. Evidently, the guy had gotten hopelessly turned around, and his friend was trying to figure out how to get him to his destination. Privately, you thought this seemed too complex for his simple brain to comprehend.

“Ok wait, so you’re saying I need to be on the 115? And then take Johnson Street to the 67 line? Uh-huh, uh-huh. Gotcha. Thanks, bro. That means I should get off on…” He glanced at the route map above you, and you could see his thick head visibly struggling to make sense of it. Then his brown eyes widened comically. “Shit, this stop right here!”

Sure enough, the bus had been decelerating, and now it came to a complete stop. The guy pushed his way to the crowded exit, still absorbed in his conversation. You noted with disgust that he had your phone lodged between his bristly cheek and his broad shoulder, both of which were sheened with sweat. Then it hit you — he was about to leave with your phone!

“Wait!” you said, trying to get his attention. You hated how squeaky your voice sounded compared to his bovine bass, but still, it worked.

“Huh? Oh right,” he said. Speaking into the phone, he said, “Fuck bro, gotta go. See ya soon, king.” 

Then, he hung up and turned his attention to you. “Yo, thanks so much, little guy!” At this point, he was too close to the door, and there were too many people pushing to exit, for him to turn around and give your phone back. So instead, he stood up straight, braced his knees, and lobbed your phone at you with a dumb, cocky grin. “Catch, bro!”

Oh my god, what was this idiot thinking? You were going to miss, and then your phone would hit the floor and shatter into a million pieces, or it would smack someone’s head and they’d sue you for everything you had, or…

You gripped something in your hand. Peeking one eye open, you found that your phone was secure in your grip. Despite your lacking hand-eye coordination, you had somehow caught your phone, acting purely on instinct.

Then you immediately laid it on your lap, because it was slick with sweat and had thoroughly absorbed the guy’s scent. As you leaned down to clean it, your phone screen lit up with a notification. It was a message from an unknown number.

wait did u say u we’re on the 103

BRUH u werent supposed to get off yet lmaooo 💀💀

You internally groaned. Did that meathead’s friend think he was just going to keep your phone forever? He probably did; he was obviously just as much of a dumb gym bro as his friend. 

You prepared to type in a polite response informing him that he had the wrong number, but suddenly the bus lurched and you lost control of your phone for a moment. Glancing back at your screen, you realized that you had accidentally pressed send: 

bro just gimme ur addy i’ll put it into maps

That was absolutely not what you had typed in. You tended to be pretty dexterous, so you had no idea how that had happened. Although… you looked at your hands consideringly. They were brown and veiny, with wide and hairy fingers. You supposed it was hard to type on a phone keyboard with massive mitts like yours. Briefly, you thought that your hands seemed disproportionately large against the rest of you, that they weren’t supposed to be this big and manly, but you dismissed it, because why wouldn’t they be?

Anyways, now that that encounter was over, you could go back to studying. You scrolled through your phone, trying to locate your Kindle app. But it didn’t seem to be anywhere. Frustrated, you swiped back and forth across your home screen, not noticing how each tap sent a jolt up your body.

Swipe. You felt movement on either side of you — which you quickly realized was caused by the passengers sitting next to you. You couldn’t avoid brushing up against them with how broad your square shoulders were. It was a good problem to have.

Swipe. Absent-mindedly, you dragged your giant paws across your equally giant pecs. You didn’t know what made you feel more virile — scratching your tangled black curls of sweaty chest hair, or accidentally brushing against your protruding dark nipples. Oh wait, you knew the answer — scratching your tangled black treasure trail and brushing against your washboard abs.

Swipe. You splayed your tree trunk legs further out, stomping your size 14 feet on the floor of the bus. You didn’t care if the other passengers thought you were rude — with thighs this thick, it was impossible not to manspread, especially for someone as well-endowed as you. A wet protein fart trumpeted from your inflated ass, but you took it in stride.

Swipe. The bus lurched again, and for a moment it felt like you had leaped half a foot into the air. But your line of sight never shifted back down, and why would it? You had always been tall — just like you had always had perfectly sculpted lats and traps, and a thick bull neck, and…

Your swiping was interrupted by a notification: 5% battery remaining. You furrowed your caveman brow in confusion. Hadn’t you left your place with a full charge? How had it run out so quickly? As you were thinking, you grabbed your squirt bottle from the pocket of your gym bag and took a swig.

Duh, your gym bag — you’d been at the gym! That explained the phone battery, then; you liked to listen to workout podcasts or mindlessly scroll through TikTok as you worked out, and with how long you spent at the gym each day, more often than not you walked out of there with much less charge than you’d started with. 

Judging by the sweat leaking through your black mesh tank top, though — and not to mention your musky stench — it had been an especially good session today. It had been an arm day, and you silently admired your hard work, the way your biceps and triceps swelled with power and your veiny forearms pulsed in time with your heartbeat, all wrapped up in a layer of thick black hair and perfectly tan coloring. Yeah. Those were some impressive arms you had.

A text notification popped up at the top of your screen: 

bro how do you not know this by now 😭

its 992 carter st apt#208

Oh yeah, you’d been so distracted by your muscles that you’d forgotten why you were on this bus. You were going to visit your best bro later today, and your license was suspended from the last time you two had gotten a little too crunk, so public transit it was.

You glanced at the route map above you, trying to figure out the best way to get there. So you were on the red squiggly line on the left side of the image, which meant… no wait… maybe you were on that green dot in the middle? Your eyes glazed over, and your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy. While that was a feeling you were very much used to, and even proud of, right now you were annoyed. Why’d they have to make these picture thingies so fucking confusing anyway? Whatever, that was why they’d invented Google Maps.

Copying over your friend’s address, you attempted to navigate to the map app. But your thick finger missed the icon entirely, instead opening your photo gallery. The most recent photo was a selfie you’d taken at the gym today, and you took a moment to admire yourself. You felt your blocky, bearded face form the exact same cocky smirk that was in the photo. Hell yeah, you were one sexy motherfucker. 

Suddenly, the image turned black. You’d run out of power. You stared for a second at the face reflected on the blank phone screen, identical to the one in the photo.

“Fuck,” you muttered in your deep, slow voice, scratching your temple with one finger like a Neanderthal. You hadn’t gotten to put your friend’s address into Google Maps, and you definitely were too dumb to get there on your own. What to do?

Slowly, painstakingly, an idea formed in your thick meathead mind. Maybe… you could… use someone else’s phone… to call your friend up and ask him how to get there! You scanned the bus for people to ask. There were lots of people on their phones, but for some reason, one passenger stood out to you. He was shrimpy and short, sitting a few seats away from you in the opposite row as he tapped away at some mobile game.

Pocketing your dead device, you rose from your seat and swaggered over to the little guy.

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

[bangtanhoesthings]

Long ask.

Forgive me, this will be all over the place.

I have noticed that over the past few years the hate for the boys has been escalating particularly for Jimin, Jungkook and Joonie.

For Joonie, among other things, because as a leader, if they break him, they might break BTS. (Gosh look at him😭. Has me my man, my man, my man-ning all over the place like a dog in heat, it's embarrassing and a little concerning). Sorry, I digressed but look at him 😭😭😭, y'all don't thirst over this man enough. Woof! 🫦

Anyways, moving on.

For Jungkook, among a plethora of other reasons, because of the unrivaled, unmitigated global success he has had and continues to have (am so proud of my funky lil popstar ✨).

He came, he saw, he conquered. Kicked ass and took names. Ate and left no crumbs. Had them by the neck. Pulled up and shut it down (Somebody stop me 😭)

The way some army attribute his success to the 🛴 guy boils my blood, and that rage is for another day.

This post is towards Jimin.

Jimin's hate is both from outside and inside the fandom ( am not talking about solos, toxic shippers, mantis and the like) but people who claim to be 0T7.

I know that Jimin has had haters for years but the shady tweets I saw during the FACE and MUSE era from so called "ARMY" said a lot. Am not here to debate who is or isn't ARMY. That's for another time.

My question is, why does Jimin's success seem to be a sore spot for some 0T7s? The one reason I have been able to come up with is that Jimin sort of messed up the hierarchy system.

Let me explain and see if I make sense. For a long time, when people thought of the maknae line, no matter the order in which they ranked Tae and Kookie, Jimin was always the third one. Too many posts relegating him to the role of cheerleader and not much else. I saw posts before solo works commenced dismissing the idea that Jimin would ever release an album but would instead fully support the others. Well, he not only released two solo albums, but was also a composer, lyricist among other things, so they can take their opinion and smoke it.

When the solo era started, people had different expectations for what every maknae members would achieve but no matter the expectations, those for Jimin were that he would be third. Bronze medalist if you will.

FACE was released, Like Crazy got to number 1 and I logged off twitter. We were in hell particularly when it went from 1 to 45 after Billboard deleted over 100k sales and changed the rules (thank you Travis Scott for freeing Jimin and finally taking that number 1 spot). The hate from outside was expected, it was when it came from within the fandom that it hurt.

Fast forward to MUSE and it got worse. Sprinkle in a dash of Are You Sure and we have

Here I have a list of things I have noticed

1. An increase in the number of people talking about how they hate PJMs and how they are making them turn against Jimin. Honey, if a solo can make you dislike one member, you aren't sh*t anyway.

2. Dislike for Jimin disguised as dislike for his solos. If you haven't seen it, consider yourself lucky.

3. How sometimes ARMY came in droves when a member didn't achieve something but Jimin did. For example Spotify US. When a new song failed to enter but Jimin's songs increased ( during both LC and Who era).

4. His long run on the hot 100 has really revealed people's true colours. It's not his fault. Blame the fandom for their clear bias.

5. The number of ARMY accounts on X low key calling AYS fanservice.

6. Discourse on Jimin's ability to sing. I don't argue with stupid people.

I could go on and on but what I am trying to say is that in a perfect world, it would be wonderful if all the members had the same support from ARMY. The discrepancy needs to be addressed (caused by a multitude of reasons) but making it a member's fault and not the fandom is asinine.

I used to be a 1D fan and my favourite member to date is the least favourite and successful, Louis Tomlinson but that doesn't mean I hate on Harry, Zayn or Niall for their success. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

What prompted this you may ask? I saw a post talking about Jimin being the company and fandom fave and having special support. Like huh?

All in all what I am trying to say is that Jimin really shook things up and some people resent him for it. That one post (article?) about Jimin bringing out either admiration or envy keeps getting proven right.

Keep supporting this angel for a long and happy life.

What do you think are some other reasons for the increase in the 0T6 agenda against Jimin?

[sirjaketkiszka]

Movie Night - Jake Kiszka

“Let me hear you say it.”

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Summary - For Valentine’s Day, you and Jake opt for a movie night—staying in, eating snacks, and enjoying each other’s company. When you pick the movie, Fifty Shades of Grey, you get some ideas…

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, hands + feet tied, use of blindfold, slight nipple play, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms, fast-paced, dirty talking, and briefly proofread.

(Let me know if I missed any.)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

a/n - here’s my submission for @seenoversundown ‘s Valentine’s Day writing event!! It was a pleasure to write and to participate ;) Enjoy!! <3

The light from the television flickers across the living room, eliciting shadows behind various pieces of furniture, and casting a soft glow along Jake’s features. It’s Valentine’s Day, and both you and Jake opted for a night in—watching movies together on the couch—with a plethora of Valentine’s Day-themed foods in front of you on the coffee table; a heart-shaped pizza, chocolate-covered strawberries, and cocktails with an absurd amount of grenadine in them. 

Tonight’s movie pick is Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not peak cinema in the slightest, but you’ve never seen the movies before, and you’re hoping it’s a “so bad that it’s good” situation. 

So far… It’s just bad.

You’ve only just gotten to the part where Anastasia Steele interviews Christian Grey, and you can’t help the chill of secondhand embarrassment that travels down your spine. Jake chuckles beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders and holding you close. 

“You know we can turn it off, right? We don’t have to watch it.” You can hear the “I told you so” smile in his voice. 

In all honesty, it was your idea to watch the movie. You had heard that the films were inspired by the Twilight Saga—a twisted fanfiction version of the movies that you love. Jake swore up and down that you were going to hate it and damn it, you refuse to prove him right. 

“No, no. I was just a little cold, that’s all.” You lie, making Jake blow a quick breath through his nose to suppress his laugh. 

Excruciatingly long minutes pass, and the amount of unbearable groans you need to mask with a subtle cough is staggering. You’ve finally gotten to the part where they sleep together for the first time and… oh.

Oh.

You shift uncomfortably under Jake’s arm, unable to ignore the heat that creeps up your neck and through your limbs. You can see why so many people enjoy the film. It’s… certainly something. Jake must notice the shift in your body temperature as you feel his hold on you loosen while his watchful eyes glance over at you. 

If you’re not mistaken, you feel as though tension thickens between the two of you, your bodies no longer relaxed. Instead, you’ve stiffened, your thighs clenching together as you watch the scene play out. 

Sure, your sex life with Jake is not exactly “vanilla,” but what is being shown before you is… intriguing. Your gaze travels over to Jake’s side profile; his jaw is clenched, his nostrils flared, and his eyes locked on the screen. His breathing has changed as well—instead of his relaxed shallow breaths, his chest rises and falls deeper the longer he watches. 

Your mind wanders for a bit—imagining how you might react in a situation like that with Jake. How much you’d enjoy it…

Your thighs rub together, unexpected arousal rushing to your core the more you think about it… being tied up by Jake… being blindfolded by Jake… being spanked—

“You alright?” Jake’s voice pulls you from your inappropriate thoughts. His arm is no longer around you, but the same hand is now gripping your thigh, halting your movements. Was it that obvious?

Clearing your throat, you swiftly nod while readjusting your posture to sit straighter. The scene is long gone and you can’t seem to focus on anything else happening in the movie. Jake doesn’t let up, though. His hand remains on your thigh, the warmth of his palm combating with the searing heat of your intrigue. 

“Hey, Jake…” Your voice is small; shy.

“Yes, baby?” His head is quick to turn and look at you, his eyes searching your features. The dim glow of the TV nearly hides the pigmented hue of maroon painted on your cheeks—your pupils dilated and lips parted. 

You’re nervous about asking Jake your question. He would never judge you, and by his anticipating stare, he’s hoping you’re going to say what he wants to hear. 

“Would you…” Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip nervously, finding the words. “Would you ever try that? With me?” 

His eyes shift to the screen, and back to you before a smirk pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I would.” 

A flutter tickles your lower belly, and you can’t help but notice the way Jake’s eyes grow darker—more hungry—when he feels your thighs twitch under his touch. 

“Is that what you’re thinking about, baby?” He questions, grabbing the remote beside him and pausing the movie. You’re entirely unaware of how far along you’ve gotten, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Jake removes his hand from your thigh, replacing his arm on the back of the couch, behind you. His body turns toward you, his attention undivided as he observes you. “You want me to do that to you? Hm? Tie you up? Blindfold you? Do whatever I want to you?” 

Your jaw falls slack as the words melt from his tongue, the heat between your thighs becoming intense—unbearable. 

You eagerly nod. 

“Let me hear you say it.” He urges. It’s as if a switch has been turned on, his demeanor completely different from just a moment ago. Your throat goes dry, and a thick swallow is unable to help your case. 

“Please, Jake.” Your voice is barely a whisper, your body gravitating toward him with your faces just inches apart. “Tie me up. Blindfold me. I don’t care. Do whatever you want to me.”

It’s pathetic how desperate your tone is, with a drawn whine lacing your words. Jake smiles wickedly at your pleas, his black pupils conquering the warm brown of his irises. 

“Wait here.” He instructs before lifting himself off the couch and rushing toward the hallway of your shared apartment where the bedroom resides. 

You sit in anticipating silence, carefully listening as you hear shuffling and muffled noises coming from the hall. Only a couple of minutes pass before he returns, standing before you and holding his hand out for you to take. No words are exchanged as your hand falls into his. You peel yourself off of the cushions and follow closely behind him. 

He leads you to the bedroom, which is dimly lit by a handful of burning candles on various surfaces, including the nightstand, dresser, and desk. 

You would consider it romantic if you weren’t thinking about the unholiest of things. 

Your eyes scan the bed and you notice a few modifications. In the short time Jake had been in here, he skillfully tied four silk pillow sheets to each corner of the bed frame.

He pulls you to stand in front of him, facing away from the bed now. The look in his eye is threatening, and it unsettles you; unaware of what he’s planned in such short notice. You swallow thickly, waiting for him to kiss you—or touch you—it doesn’t matter. 

“Get on the bed.” He demands, nudging his head toward the mattress that waits behind you. Slowly, you step back, your eye contact with him unbreaking. When you feel the wooden bed frame against the back of your thighs, you stop. Carefully, you climb backward onto the plush bed, watching as Jake’s eyes take in your cautious maneuver. 

He instinctively licks his lips, like a predator stalking its prey. You feel small under his watchful gaze—the way his eyes undress you, copious thoughts flashing before them, with a devious smirk displaying on his plump lips when he decides his plan of action. 

Once your upper back presses against the pillows, you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows and forearms, with your chin tucked into your chest—waiting for instruction. 

“Jake—” Your voice is barely a whisper, silently begging him for anything. 

“Strip.” He says the singular word with such intensity, almost impatient. 

Unhurriedly, you sit up, grabbing the bottom hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. Jake’s eyes grow darker, if it’s even possible. You continue at a tantalizing pace, hooking your fingers into the elastic waistband of your Valentine’s Day-themed pajama pants. His breathing visibly grows heavier, nearly choking on his gulp when the matching lingerie set you bought for him is in full view, carelessly tossing your discarded clothes elsewhere.

You knew either way you’d be under the covers with him—exchanging heavy breaths, muttered pleas, and roaming hands—by the end of the day, but somehow, it felt all the more fitting at this very moment. 

“All this for me, baby?” He asks, knowing the answer.

You nod timidly, feeling a sense of exposure from the way he crosses his arms over his chest, observing your compromising appearance. It’s as if he’s taking a mental picture of you laying there—your hair spilling over the pillows, your thighs clenched together to provide any sort of relief, and your plump breasts begging to be released from the confines of the sheer bralette with every rise of your chest. 

“Always for you.” You admit, growing impatient with his lack of urgency. 

The pleading look on your face must be a dead giveaway because he finally moves, stepping around the bed to your right side. Without a word, he grabs your wrist, prompting you to lay back and fully sink into the mattress. Using his other hand, he tugs on the silk pillow sheet to ensure its security, before bringing your hand to it. Gently, he loops the soft material around your wrist, creating a semi-loose knot around it. It’s tight enough that you can’t undo it yourself, but not enough to cause any irritation. 

He takes his time walking to the other side of the bed, repeating the same technique on your left wrist. You observe him intently, your legs gently writhing from the heat that pools in your core. The anticipation is killing you—watching him move leisurely like he has all night—and he does. 

Jake spares you just a few glances, his attention solely on tying you up. You’re almost entirely at his mercy, your arms now outstretched above you, completely useless to you. Excitement settles in your gut, nervousness following closely behind. 

He makes his way to the end of the bed, admiring your exposed position; hands tied up, legs crossed, and chest heaving with suspense. 

“Open your legs for me.” He instructs, his hooded eyes inspecting your every move. 

Hesitating, you uncross your legs, spreading them only slightly and keeping a small bend to your knees. Jake has seen you in many positions, but none like this one. Usually, he’d be on you; his body caging yours in, his lips on your skin, his hands grasping at anything he can get them on. Instead, he’s just standing there, examining you. It adds to your growing arousal as it becomes increasingly unbearable. 

Jake steps closer, grabbing one ankle at a time to tug your legs straight and tie them to the corners of the bed with the silk sheets. The nerves travel from your belly and rise in your throat, your body temperature following shortly. You gently tug on each restraint—testing just how vulnerable you are. A smug smirk tugs at the corners of Jake’s lips, noticing the very familiar look in your eyes. 

Despite your anxiety—a product of trying something new—your eyes are silently pleading for him to touch you. You’re unable to rub your thighs together, any and all friction no longer available to you. He knows this, and he visibly enjoys the way it affects you. 

“Please, Jake.” You whine, your bottom lip jutting forward in a slight pout. “Touch me.”

He struggles to keep his composure as it vaguely falters, his knees faintly weakening and his nostrils flaring to accommodate his heavy breathing. It takes everything in him not to give into your begging, but he has a front to withhold, and he’s just getting started.

Jake turns away from you, your hopefulness diminishing as he rummages through the top drawer of his dresser. His movements halt when he finds what he’s looking for before pulling it out; a tie. One of the very few that he has. When he faces you again, his expression is unreadable as he slips the tie through his fingers, feeling the soft fabric beneath his touch. 

He slowly makes his way toward you, rounding the bed and leaning over your restricted body. He stands beside your head, bending over slightly so his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. 

“Just tell me to stop, and I will.” He whispers, just before laying the tie over your eyes, gently tying it behind your head when you lift it for him. 

You’re completely in the dark now–every sense is still reliable but your sight. You listen closely, trying to get a read on Jake’s position, but it’s unhelpful to you. His feet move silently along the floor, the material of the rug muting his steps. You’re unable to tell whether he’s still beside you or somewhere else. 

Just as you consider calling his name, your leg jerks when his rough fingertips graze the skin. He’s standing at the edge of the bed again–his other hand mirroring his movements, sliding his hands up your legs, and stopping at your thighs. You feel the mattress sink under his weight, signaling that he’s finally joining you, getting closer. His gentle caress leaves goosebumps in its wake, peppering your smooth skin and showing Jake how sensitive you are to his touch. 

His warmth engulfs you, and you feel it travel above you as his hands leave your thighs, the pillow beneath your head molding against his palms. He’s caged you in as his breathing cascades along your tense features. His scent is somehow stronger without your eyesight, your lungs now flooded with his delicious cologne; musk, woodsy, and smoky, reminiscent of firewood. You expect a kiss, your lips parting in expectancy, but it never comes. Instead, you feel the ends of his hair feather along your shoulders, his head just below your chin. Every other sense is heightened–touch included–and you nearly moan when his lips graze the hills of your breasts. 

Your hips writhe beneath him, being met with his own as he settles between your spread legs. He keeps you in place, continuing his movements along the cups of your bra. He leaves open-mouth kisses across the delicate flesh while his hips pin you down further the more you fidget, biting back your desperate cries for more. 

One of his hands beside your head disappears but is quickly relocated when you feel your bra being pulled down, just enough to expose your hardened nipples. A sharp gasp pierces your lungs when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling the sensitive bud with his warm tongue. Your hands absently tug against their restraints, begging to fall into his hair and hold him closer to you. If only you knew how restricting this would really feel when you asked for it. 

You stare blankly into a void as your back arches into him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth to muffle your whimpers. With an audible pop, Jake releases your nipple, the brisk air assaulting the remaining saliva. 

“Don’t hold back, baby, let me hear you.” His sultry voice is even more prominent, and the soothing cadence rushes to your core. Before you can think of a response, his mouth is on your other nipple, sucking harshly as his teeth graze the tender flesh. 

“Jake!” His name is the only word that comes to mind as he consumes your every thought. You’re unable to think clearly, your body only responsive to him–his touch, his smell, his voice. He knows this based on the smug hum that emulates from his throat, vibrating against you and adding to the pleasure. Your hips move to no avail, any sense of relief unattainable from his strong hold on you. 

Small pants push past your parted lips as his tongue still works against you in a soothing circular motion. You need more, and you’re willing to beg for it. Except, you feel him pull away again, and his touch has completely disappeared this time–you know he’s still above you, his undeniable body heat flowing off of him. A beat passes before his lips are on you once more, instead connecting with the skin just under your breasts, below the fabric of your bralette. 

He moves skillfully, inching his way down your body, aching for him. His lips brush every surface, placing gentle kisses along your ribs, around your belly button, and stopping just above where you want him. Your core pulses the closer he gets, feeling his warm breath fanning over the lacy material of your thin panties. 

Your breath quickens when you feel his fingers trace your clothed slit, only applying a feather-light pressure. You try to imagine him; how he’s positioned, what expression he may be holding, and if he’s watching you intently—watching your every hitched breath, curled toe, and bunched fist. You’re sure he’s sporting a smug smirk, enjoying the way you’re responsive to his touch. 

A whine begs to leave your lips as his fingers hook into the center of your underwear, pulling it aside to expose your wet folds. A pleased noise from Jake travels to your expectant ears, surely impressed by the sheer amount of arousal spilling from your core. 

“I’ve barely touched you.” He remarks, a smile evident in his tone. “Already so wet.” 

“Please, Jake.” Your words are breathless, pointed to the ceiling as you squirm against the restraints. 

Jake hears your plea as he smothers the ache of your core with his tongue—swiping along your velvety folds and lingering above your pulsing clit. A slight cry mixes with your relieved moans, your legs begging to shut around his head and drape over his shoulders. Somehow, the inability to do so makes you more sensitive, and more receptive to his actions. 

Unable to focus on anything else, your entire attention is zeroed in on what you feel, rather than see. In addition to his tongue, his top lip brushes against you, as the bottom is covered by the flattening of his tongue. 

He pulls a string of pleading moans from deep within you as he turns his attention to the bundle of nerves that beg for it—sucking harshly and smiling against the flesh when he sees your back arch off of the mattress. 

“Oh, god!” The words weave between breathless pants as the coil settled in your belly tightens. With your heightened sense of feeling, your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate. Heavy breaths morph into gasps, your chest heaving as his lips work relentlessly against your clit. “Jake, I’m gonna come.” You gasp out, feeling the beginning surges of your climax. 

He moves quickly, taking you by surprise when you feel two fingers slide into you effortlessly, curling upward. “Come on my fingers, baby.” His words mumble into you. 

Your orgasm crashes down on you, ripping a yell from your throat, and leaving a raw sensation behind. Your eyes are squeezed shut, though it doesn’t matter, as the blindfold restricts your eyesight anyway. 

Jake moves slowly—attentively—pulling the remainder of your climax from you as your hips convulse against the mattress, your arms and legs begging to grasp onto him. 

When he’s sure you’ve ridden out the rest of your orgasm, he gently removes his fingers, pulling his mouth from you as well. His absence is intolerable, and despite the aftershocks of your release, you need more of him. 

You hear noises that sound like him cleaning his fingers off and the mental image arouses you, making your bottom lip catch between your teeth. He chuckles, knowing you’re aware of what he’s doing. You’re not completely blind, you know him well. 

Disappointment washes over you when you catch him shuffling off the bed, swiftly untying the pillowcases around your ankles, and repeating the action with your wrists. Your legs naturally close, and your arms go limp. It can’t be over yet, you think to yourself. 

Not even the blindfold can hide the frown pulling at your features, your lips downturned when you reach for the blindfold—ignoring the subtle ache of your wrists when they’re free. 

“Keep the blindfold on.” So we’re not done? “Don’t move.” His tone is authoritative and naturally instructive. 

You follow his instructions, freezing in your spot and listening for his quiet movements. You’re unable to place him in the room, but you hear the gentle sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

Anticipation gathers in your chest when you feel him climb onto the bed again, a breath sucking into you when you feel him hook his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He pulls the flimsy material down the swells of your hips, the material stretching over your thighs and loosening around your ankles. Your hands reach for him, searching for him through the darkness of the blindfold. 

Your fingers graze his bare skin, letting you know that he’s stripped down. If only you could see for yourself—his long waves washing over his shoulders, stomach tightening every time he breathes out, and his cock, free from the constraints of his boxers. Your mouth waters at the thought. 

You try to grasp onto him, trying to pull him into you, but you’re caught off guard when his hands get a hold of your waist, swiftly flipping you over onto your stomach. A surprised yelp rushes out of you, unable to process his quick movements. His rough hands find your hips, pulling them up to expose your ass to him, his knelt position between your legs. The side of your face is buried into the pillows, your hands lying flat beside your head. 

His hardened length pushes against the back of your thigh as he reaches forward, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back. Your wrists interlock in his fist, keeping a strong hold on you. 

The only notable noise in the room is the sound of your shallow breaths, waiting for him once again. You’re unable to brace yourself properly, never aware of his next move—you’re tense, but somehow equally relaxed. 

A moment passes before his free hand shifts, his erection no longer pressed against you, but now into you. You both hiss at the sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. For each inch that passes, the quicker your breath rises, only turning into moans when the tenuous pain melts into mouth-watering pleasure. 

His hips connect with your ass, both of you groaning in unison. It’s his turn to breathe heavily, his free hand now on your hip, grasping at your flesh to mask his struggle. He stills for a moment, most likely enjoying the way your hips wriggle against him, silently asking him for more. 

Steadily, he pulls his hips back, nearly pulling out completely before driving himself back in. His name rolls off your tongue in praise, encouraging him to repeat his actions, and he does. He remains at a slow pace, antagonizing you and taking pleasure in the way your hips move back, meeting him in the middle. 

“More?” He taunts, squeezing his grip on your wrists.

“Please.” You whine. 

“So greedy.” He mumbles, surely shaking his head in faux disapproval. 

He gives you what you want, anyhow, moving at a quicker pace and using his hand on your hip as support. Your moans are consistent with his thrusts, growing louder the harder they are. 

“Feels so good, Jake.” You cry out, your face sinking deeper into the pillows. 

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted?” He huffs out. You eagerly nod, knowing his eyes are on you—taking note of how your lips part, silent praises dancing along the plump flesh. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes!” You rush out, feeling another orgasm building up, practically clawing its way to the edge. 

“Can you say ‘thank you’?” He teases, and a breathless chuckle pours from his lips. “It’s only fair.”

“Thank you…” You whisper.

“I didn’t hear you.” He says disapprovingly, undoing his hold on your hip and swatting your ass, making you yelp. “Louder. Show me how grateful you are.”

“Thank you!” Your voice is raised, slightly irritated by your teetering orgasm. So close to the edge, but needs a push. If he could just go a little… “Faster, Jake, I’m so close.” 

“Me too, baby.” He admits through clenched teeth. He grunts between breaths, releasing your wrists and grabbing hold of your other hip. Jake moves faster—sloppier—chasing his own release.

Your hands find the sheets beneath you, gripping them as he pounds into you, the sound of your skin connecting echoing in the room—leaving no corner untouched. You turn your head, muffling your desperate cries into the pillow as your second orgasm shatters into you. 

It’s far more intense than the first, pulling a drawn groan from Jake as your walls flutter around his thrusting cock. He works you through your climax, much like the first, relishing the way your cunt pulses—keeping a strong hold on him and dragging him in deeper, if it’s possible. Your hips shutter as the remainder of your orgasm diminishes into spaced-out throbs. 

Once Jake knows you’ve been taken care of—your breathing coming to an even pattern—he abruptly pulls out of you, painting your backside with his release as one of his hands grips his length. It lands down your spine, across the expanse of your back, and settles on the hills of your ass. You’re a mess.

Jake’s breath is shaky, a low whine pouring from him as he pumps the last of his orgasm from his cock. Silent curses follow closely, up until you no longer feel the warmth of his cum dripping out of him. He lets out rushed exhales, removing his hand from your hip and admiring his work, you assume. 

Carefully, Jake gets off the bed, dragging your legs back so you’re laying flat on your stomach. You’re unable to roll over, afraid of the mess you’ll create on the sheets. Somehow, you sense that he’s left the room, his presence unnoticeable. 

Sure enough, you hear the bathroom sink turn on, for the amount of time it takes for the cold water to become hot. You figure at this point, you can take the makeshift blindfold off, your eyes squinting to adjust to the low lighting. 

Jake appears shortly, only in his boxers, holding a wet washcloth. He smiles softly, pleased to see you’re right where he left you, patiently waiting. He sits beside you, gently wiping your skin to rid you of his release. The cloth is warm, soothing, and comforting. 

He’s attentive, making sure to wipe away every drop—every streak. When he’s sure he’s cleaned you up, he tosses the washcloth in the dirty clothes basket in the far corner of the bedroom, nearly missing. 

“Come here.” He mumbles, assisting you in turning onto your back, finally seeing him. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the soft look in his eyes returning. 

Jake pulls the comforter that resides at the end of the bed above you, covering your nearly naked body with the heavy blanket. He joins you underneath it, repositioning your tired frame into him, your back splayed against his bare chest. Few words are exchanged as the euphoria has yet to wear off. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Jake asks, uncertainty in his tone from your lack of speech. You glance at him over your shoulder, noticing the concerned furrow in his brows. 

“Jake.” You turn over to face him, needing him to see just how much you enjoyed it. “I loved it.”

His face softens, confirming he had been afraid you didn’t like it as much as you thought you would. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He whispers, leaning into you and capturing your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

Taglist:

@stardustthread @demolitiondanchipsversion @highway-tuna @cheersdannyx2 @allof--mylove @theweightofjake @sacredsparrow

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[leapingbadger]

Unconditional Love

Happy Valentines Day!

This is my entry for Pabu's Festival of Love. The prompt was "Friendship Bracelets". I hope you enjoy!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Read It on AO3!

Hunter woke with a start. It didn’t happen much these days unless a moon-yo had gotten into the house or Wrecker had forgotten to duck and whacked his head on the door frame into the kitchen while in search of a midnight snack.

This sound wasn’t any of those though. He reached for his vibroknife, more out of habit than because he thought he’d actually need it. The light was on in the common room and as he quietly opened the door to his bedroom, he saw Omega sitting on the floor in front of the caf table, her arms flying around her as she tried to collect something.

“Omega?” he asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked at the chrono in the corner, “Why are you up at three in the morning?”

“It’s okay, Hunter. She whispered, “Don’t come in. Go back to sleep.”

The sleepiness he was still holding onto disappeared instantly at her words. If anything was going to wake him, it was knowing his kid was trying to keep him out of whatever she was doing. He put down his knife and walked around the back of the sofa.

“No, no, no. You’re not supposed to see,” she said, throwing herself over the table in the hopes of hiding whatever she as doing.

She sat cross legged on the floor, Batcher’s sleeping head resting on her knee, colorful beads were littered all over the table and scattered on the floor.

Hunter again looked at the chrono, sure he had gotten the time wrong because there was no reason for her to be up at this time playing with beads.

“Kid, what are you doing? You have school in the morning.” He said, instantly recoiling at how much he sounded like Shep. He made a mental note to tell him he was a bad influence the next time he saw him.

“It’s for love day. You weren’t supposed to see. It was going to be a surprise.”

Hunter blinked at her, sighed and sat down on the couch behind her. “Okay, you’re going to have to start from the beginning. What is a love day?” he asked, grabbing the hair tie from her wrist and pulling his long, dark hair off his neck.

She turned to look at him, looking slightly embarrassed. It wasn’t a face she pulled often, maybe once or twice if her brothers came to collect her from school or when Crosshair tried to flirt with the woman who owns the bakery in the marketplace.

“Love day. It’s a day where you tell people you love them or something. I don’t know. It’s a Pabu thing. It’s this Saturday.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” he said.

“That’s because you don’t talk to anyone but Shep and Phee.” She said teasingly.

“I talk to plenty of people.” Hunter said with a chuckle. “I talked to your teacher the other day.”

Omega rolled her eyes, “Yeah, you need to stop that. She has a crush on you and it’s an embarrassment for all involved.”

“How is it an embarrassment to me? I don’t have the crush.” He said, not quite believing he was having this particular conversation in the middle of the night.

She gave him the look only a teenager could, “trust me.”

He sighed; the kind of sigh he used to reserve for conversations with Crosshair but had recently been extended to Omega. “Okay, so it’s love day. Why does that mean you’re up in the middle of the night?”

“Remember, Phee brought me that bead kit a while back? Well, I thought I’d make bracelets as gifts.”

Hunter smiled. She may be growing up too fast for his liking but there was still something of his little girl in there, even if it was usually hidden behind eye rolls and sarcasm these days.

“That’s sweet Kid, but you can make bracelets for your friends at school. You don’t need to be doing it tonight”

Now it was Omega’s turn to sigh and Hunter was suddenly struck by how many of his own mannerisms she had picked up over the years. If she pinched the bridge of her nose, it would be like looking in a mirror.

“They’re not for my friends. They’re for you. All of you.” She said sweetly. “But now they’re everywhere and the one I was making is buried in the rug.”

“Do you…need help?” he asked.

“Really? You’d help me with this?” she asked, her bright eyes wide.

Hunter couldn’t say picking up beads or making bracelets was what he really wanted to do at this time of the morning, but if it meant getting her back to bed sooner, he was willing to try. He nodded reluctantly.

“Well, first we need to pick everything up, then put them in piles according to color and then string them.”

“Omega, that’s going to take hours.” He said.

She nodded happily and started picking individual beads off the floor. Hunter rolled off the couch and got on his hands and knees, feeling around for the beads.

“You know, Crosshair would probably be more helpful with this,” he said jokingly.

“Should we wake him?” Omega asked, carefully reaching for a bead that had fallen on Batcher’s nose.

“I think you know the answer to that, Omega,” Hunter said with a grin.

She nodded and they continued.

It didn’t take long before the piles had been formed. Omega pulled out some thin cords and handed a piece to Hunter.

“Whose bracelet do you want to make?”

Hunter shrugged, “it doesn’t matter,” he said.  

She pushed a small pile of green beads across the table to him and then another pile of black beads.

“This is for Wrecker.” She said. “It’s Jade. It’s supposed to represent health, love and wisdom.” She said with her eyebrows raised.

“Who told you that?” Hunter asked.

She shrugged, “it came with the kit. All the stones have meanings. I didn’t have enough to go around so I bought some black stones from the market. They’re made from the rock of Pabu.”

Hunter stopped threading a bead and looked at her in wonder. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he said in admiration.

She shrugged again but the apples of her cheeks turned pink, “it’s important to me.” She said, “You’re all important to me.”

“You’re important to us too, kid.” Hunter said, as he continued to thread the beads. “So, what do the other stones mean?”

Omega’s eyes lit up as she picked up the list from the packaging. “The Orange one, Carnelian, is for Echo. It represents courage and clarity. It can uplift the mind and improve the spirit.”

“Well, the courage part certainly fits.” Hunter said and he threaded another bead.

Omega nodded in agreement, “the clear quartz is for Crosshair. I didn’t think he’d like the other colors. Besides, it’s supposed to help with healing. Mental, physical and emotional…I just thought…I mean, it can’t hurt, right?”

Hunter smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Kid. I’m sure he’ll love it. What about the pink one? Is that for you?”

Omega hesitated. “No…” she said suddenly apprehensive.

“Oh, it’s mine?”

“No,” she said again, “It’s…It’s Tech’s,” she said.

Hunter blinked at her for a moment. Wishing he could think of something to say but failing to come up with anything.

“You’ll probably think it’s stupid,” she said.

Hunter sighed and put down Wrecker’s bracelet, “I would never say that.”

She smiled, the same sad smile that always accompanied a conversation about their lost brother. They tried to talk about him often, to bring him up in conversation to keep him alive, because to forget…well, they just couldn’t do that. He was a part of them, a part of their family, and no matter how much time passed, they always wanted him there, even if it was in name only.

Hunter had started to worry that he would soon forget the sound of his voice, or the distinct beat of his heart. He had all the heartbeats of his family memorized, initially out of necessity from their days as Kaminoan test subjects, but later as a failsafe. He could tell if something was wrong by the patter of their hearts.

He could hear Omega’s heart pounding against her chest, flustered at the turn in conversation. “What does the pink stand for, Omega?” He asked gently. He tried to keep his tone neutral, even though the devastation at the loss of his brother threatened to bubble up again. It was never too far from the surface, despite how many years had passed.

She smiled, her eyes suddenly watery, “It’s rose quartz. I…I chose it because it represents… unconditional love.” She whispered.

Hunter could tell her voice was getting stuck in her throat. She choked on a sob, and he crossed to her in time to feel the first tear fall on his shoulder. He rubbed her back as she dissolved, leaning into him as her body convulsed.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, rocking her back and forth.

After a few minutes she gave a shuddering breath and pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve, just like she used to when she was a kid.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

Hunter gently wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and cupped her face in his hand. “It’s okay to miss him, Omega. I miss him every day.” He said softly.

“We didn’t get to say goodbye,” she said, her tears threatening to fall again.

Hunter nodded, “I know.”

“We didn’t even memorialize him,” she said, this time the tears won, and she started crying again.

Hunter paused and realized she was right. The time after Tech’s death was so fraught they didn’t have time to think about it. Hunter and Wrecker were so immersed in their search for Omega, Tech’s absence only came up during quiet moments in hyperspace when the vacuum of his presence could be felt more readily.

By the time they got Omega and Crosshair back they were on to the next thing, the next mission, the search for Tantis, and then Omega was gone again. Once they finally settled on Pabu, free and hopeful, Tech’s goggles remained a talisman, but they’d never really said goodbye.

“Maybe we should fix that,” Hunter said as he brushed her wet, tear-soaked hair from her face.

She sniffed, “what do you mean?”

“We’ll do something for Tech, on Saturday. Love day.” He said.

She nodded her approval, unable to vocalize it and sat upright, taking another shuddering breath.

They stayed there until the sunlight licked the horizon and the moon-yos started chirping happily,  talking and laughing as they threaded the beads onto the strings.

By the end they had four completed bracelets for Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo and Tech. Omega refused to let Hunter know what beads he was getting, telling him it would be a surprise for Love day.

***

Hunter chose sunset as the time for Tech’s memorial. It had always been his favorite time of day on Pabu, when the sun had started to sink below the horizon, scattering light over the sea, the waves twinkling in the light, while the sky was dark enough to see the flickering stars above.

Echo hadn’t needed any encouragement to show up. He arrived the day after Hunter’s comm, dropping his bag in the doorway and standing, arms wide for Omega to dive into. She brushed a hasty tear away as she buried her face in his neck and if nothing else came of this memorial, he was glad to have all his brothers back in one place.

Omega had spent the day with friends at the marketplace. Musicians had been set up along with a dance floor and special delicacies from the planets of Pabu’s refugees. It was a true community event, the kind of thing Hunter still struggled to fully partake in. He preferred to observe from the fringe, leaning up against the weeping mya tree. He noticed Omega’s teacher wave and waved back, careful to heed Omega’s warning. He appreciated having an excuse to escape early.

The beach was empty when he arrived, he could hear the music from the party pulsing in his enhanced senses. Could feel the rhythm in the ground and much as in his ears.

Crosshair, Echo and Wrecker were quick to join him. If they thought it was a silly idea, they hadn’t said anything. The memorial wasn’t really for Tech anyway, it was for Omega. For all of them.

Omega arrived at the beach breathless and happy, her cheeks pink for spending all day in the sun. Her long, loose, blonde curls hung past her shoulders. She wore a frilly pink dress she must have been loaned by Lyana. She giggled like a little girl as Wrecker twirled her around in greeting. Hunter clocked the green and black bracelet on his wrist.

He checked Crosshair and Echo and they too proudly wore their love day bracelets. He wasn’t sure if Omega had shared the meanings of the stone, and it didn’t much matter. She could have given them a rock and they would have carried it proudly.

Omega came to stand beside him at the shore. The clear waves rolling over his feet. She held up her dress slightly to keep it dry.

“You left before I could give this to you this morning,” she said, holding out her palm and showing him a turquoise and black bracelet. The beads were the color of his old armor and Tech’s favorite color. He wasn’t sure if that was an accident or not.

“Thanks, Kid. What does this one mean?” he asked, rolling the smooth beads over in his fingers before putting it on his right wrist.

“It’s called Amazonite. It represents Hope.” She said, her big eyes looking up at him nervously.

Hunter nodded and smiled, “Do you think I need hope? Or do I already have it?” he asked curiously.

Omega shrugged. She took hold of his hand, something she hadn’t done in a long time, and intertwined her fingers in his. “It said if trouble appears, this helps you navigate it with confidence and makes sure you’re on the right path. That’s what you do, Hunter. What you’ve always done.”

Hunter felt his voice catch in his throat, “thanks, Kid.” He said, pulling her into a hug. He held her hand in his, noticing for the first time the bracelet on her wrist. It was black, green, orange, pink, clear and turquoise. Omega’s bracelet carried the colors of all of her brother. Hunter wasn’t sure how he could possibly love her more.

Turning around he noticed the rest of his guests had arrived. Shep and Lyanna stood off to the side, talking to Crosshair and Echo.

Phee had cut a treasure hunting trip short, giving up a score for a formal goodbye to her beloved Brown Eyes. Hunter wished Tech had gotten his happy ending with Phee. But he was glad to still have her in his life and that of the rest of his family.

Hunter crossed to the others, picking up a small wreath made of purple vines that grew on some of the gardens around the island. Lyana had been kind enough to braid it together. He held it out for Omega and watched as her trembling hands twisted the pink and black bracelet in between the leaves, making sure the beads stayed in place.

With a jerk of his head, Omega, Echo, Crosshair and Wrecker followed him to the shore. He handed the wreath to Omega.

“Is there anything you want to say?” he asked.

She nodded and opened her mouth, only for words to fail her. Again, she had a sob stuck in her throat. Wrecker’s shovel sized hand patted her gently on the shoulder and tears fell into the sand.

“I…I can’t,” she squeaked, looking up at Hunter for support.

Hunter sighed. He had thought this might happen. He didn’t have anything prepared, wasn’t really one for giving speeches, Ironically, that had always been Tech’s job.

“We wanted to take this opportunity to say goodbye to Tech, or Brown Eyes, as some of you may remember him,” he said with a wink to Phee. Her cheeks blushed; her twinkling eyes downcast but a smile spreading on her lips as she stared at the sand.

“There isn’t much I can say about him that you don’t already know. He was forthright, stubborn and always the smartest person in the room. But he was also kind, thoughtful and caring in his own way. He loved deeply, even if he couldn’t always express it. He saved us all because of that.” Hunter stopped, hearing “plan 99” in the comm and the distance cries of Omega and Wrecker, the screeching sound of metal on metal. The crash. He physically shook his head to rid himself of the memory.

“He was the person I always looked for over my  shoulder. Still do, actually…” Hunter said, more to himself than anyone. “…and he was a great brother.” He turned to look at Omega, Crosshair, Echo and Wrecker in turn.

The bruiser wiped an errant tear from his cheek. Crosshair’s eyes were downturned while Echo’s amber gaze was attentive. He gave Hunter a nod of encouragement to continue.

“I don’t know what happens when you die. But I do know that sometimes, when the sea is still and the island is calm, I can still sense my brother. And if that isn’t love persevering, I don’t know what is.”

Hunter kneeled down and wiped more tears from Omega’s cheeks “Ready?” he asked. She nodded wordlessly.

The four brothers flanked her as they waded into the water. The skirt of Omega’s pink dress floated up around her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She carefully laid the wreath in the water, adjusted the bracelet of unconditional love she had created for her fallen brother, and pushed.

They watched as the sun continued to fall under the horizon, the purple wreath bobbing as it slowly wended its way out to sea. Omega took hold of Hunter’s hand, pulling his arm to her and hugging it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, a single tear tracking down her cheek.

Hunter pulled her into a hug, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. They continued to stay there, in the water, watching as the wreath ebbed and flowed until it was out of sight, disappearing into the setting sun.

❤️❤️❤️

[theehexgirl]

Inspection

Character: Bang chan x named!character

Content: Penetrative sex, oral (f.receiving), smut, CONSENSUAL, black!character, named!character, obsessed fan, Chan with a loose screw, older!bangchan

Author’s Note: I initially made this an original story with like a totally made up character, but I realized that Chan fit this storyline of an alternative guitarist of a band.

Nosh House had always been Jayda Harris’ favorite band ever since she was sixteen and her friends had taken her to their performance at this bar within town. Jayda loved alternative music and rock music. She was a huge fan of Fall Out Boy and Paramore.

After that night, she became an even bigger fan of Nosh House, especially their bass player, Chris. Chris was twenty-four at the time, but the moment she laid eyes on him, she was in love. Jayda was in complete and utter love with him at first. There was something about the way he played, the way his fingers looked as he strummed, and the way he was so focused on playing that drew her in.

At the time, Chris was an extremely handsome man and she wanted him and his kissable lips.

However, despite how handsome he was, Jayda felt as if he wouldn’t be interested in her for two reasons. For one thing, she was young and that wouldn’t be a good look and another thing, she was the opposite of what he might go for. Jayda was a 5’3 russet skinned woman with black locs that reached her back, a medium side nose, full round lips that reminded people of a Bratz doll, high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes with brown irises, a curvy body with a round tummy and thick thighs, large breasts that were around an H-cup, a round backside, and a round face. She was so pretty and she knew it too, but she had a feeling she wasn’t the pretty he was searching for.

Luckily for her and her friends, Chris and his bandmates were signing autographs and Jayda’s friends dragged her over to him. When she approached him, she was captivated by his green eyes and how they seemed to be looking into her soul.

And when he spoke to her, he had her ready to faint, but she didn’t because she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him. He thanked her for coming and gave her one of their CD’s too, which she later put away in a glass case as her most prized possession.

After that night, Jayda became obsessed with Nosh House, but not too obsessed to the point where she knew where their hotels were and what time their flights were. She wasn’t that type of obsessive fan, but she made sure that she had enough money to be able to see them on tour in different cities, especially after they went from playing in bars to stadiums. Jayda always made sure that she was front and center in the pit. She loved to stand right where he was always positioned on stage and just watch him play. When she hit twenty, she started dressing in a way where he could see cleavage too. She even made sure her underwear was just as sexy too so he could have something memorable to pick up first.

And now eight years later, at the age of twenty-four, Jayda had enhanced her appearance. She was now ginger with a septum piercing and a nose piercing on the right as well with a couple of tattoos as well. She was now a grown woman and she could sign that NDA for him if he asked. As for Chris, he was a little bit older now. He was thirty-two and he was covered in even more tattoos and his build was much more stocky. She loved it so much because he still had those nice muscles, but there was some softness mixed in too.

For the first time in eight years, Jayda was attending one of the concerts alone. Her friends weren’t able to get tickets in time due to sudden life events, like family emergencies and field trips for their children that needed to be paid for. Jayda didn’t mind going solo. She’s gone to many other concerts alone and enjoyed herself, although it would have been nice to enjoy it with her friends.

At the concert, Jayda was standing front and center, she began to notice something kind of odd and surprising. She noticed that he was looking her directly in the eyes as he played. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but it was confirmed that he was looking directly at her when he walked closer to where she was and crouched down to look directly at her. There was something magical about that moment because it felt like they were the only two in the room.

What happened after that was even more odd. When she threw her underwear on stage after one of their songs off their set had ended, he picked up her underwear specifically and pocketed it, then winked at her when he did. That surprised her even more. She didn’t think he would pick hers up. This was definitely a memory she would keep to herself for the rest of her life.

After the concert, she had a crazy idea to go to his hotel room. She didn’t know why, but she decided to do it. She didn’t care if the police were called on her. She was going to do it. She wanted something of his and that would be the first and last time she would do this. After doing some digging, she found out what hotel he was staying at and where he and his bandmates were going. They wouldn’t be back for a while and she decided to go there now. Jayda walked inside the upscale hotel and walked up to the front desk, giving them a lie about being his girlfriend coming to surprise him. They let her go up with a key and she thanked them as her heart pounded in her chest. She was doing something dangerous as hell, but it was now or never.

She unlocked the door to the room and headed inside. She walked further into the large room, feeling amazed at how nice and luxurious it was. She found his suitcase was wide open, but decided against that. It seemed too easy. She headed to the bathroom and found his clothes he had worn coming into her state. She picked up his shirt and pressed it to her face, inhaling the scent deeply as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. His cologne was such an intoxicating scent it was musky and had that cedarwood note to it too.

She grabbed the shirt and folded it before stuffing it into her bag. She would use that shirt whenever she was masturbating and just smell it. She decided to go ahead and leave now.

When she turned to exit, she found him directly behind her. Her mouth ran dry at the sight of him and her eyes were as big as a deer in the headlights. Her heart was pounding so much out of fear.

“It seems that I’ve found a little thief,” he smirked.

“I…I…I’m sorry,” she stammered, looking down.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it,” he said. She could feel tears springing into her eyes.

“Please don’t call the cops,” she begged, looking at him.

“Why shouldn’t I call them? You broke into my hotel room to steal from me. Don’t you think I have a right to do so?” Chris inquired.

“I’ll do anything. Please don’t call them. I…I lost my mind for a moment and oh god…I didn’t mean to,” she stammered. He was silent for a moment and that made her anxiety even worse.

“You’ll do ANYTHING?” Chris questioned, emphasizing “anything”.

“Y-yes,” she nodded. He stood up and towered over in such an intimidating way. She was scared of what he was about to do or what was going to happen.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“J-Jayda,” she stammered.

He nodded, “Alright, Jayda. Strip. Now.”

A surprised look had formed on Jayda’s face as she looked at him.

“You heard me. Strip,” he snapped in a more forceful tone. He sat down on the edge of the tub and watched as she began to take off her clothes.

“Everything has to come off, especially the bra,” he said. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, freeing her large breasts. She felt nervous that he was watching her take off her clothes with those green eyes of his. It’s like they were seeing right through her. He continued staring at her and she began to experience a little bit of anxiety. She didn’t understand what he was about to do or planned to do, but she hoped it wasn’t something too sinister that would land her in a body bag.

Chris stood up and walked towards her. He hoisted her over his shoulder, then exited the bathroom. He plopped her onto the king sized bed and she tried crawling away, but he pulled her right back.

“Don’t run. You need to see what happens to thieves,” he said. He had a predatory gleam in his eyes that began to scare Jayda a little.

“I know you put my shirt in your purse. I wonder what else you might have stolen,” he said, spreading her legs wide. Jayda couldn’t believe what was happening. Her celebrity crush had caught her stealing and was staring at her pussy.

“Let’s see if you stashed something here,” he gave her pussy one long, languid lick from bottom to top, splitting her folds at the same time. Jayda let out a whimper, attempting to jerk back. He gave it another long lick and this time flicked her clit with his pierced tongue. It was a strange sensation for Jayda that she had never experienced before.

“I think I see something here that you hid,” he spit on her pussy making her shudder, then took her clit into his mouth and began to suck on it sloppily. Jayda gave out a squeaky moan, clutching the sheets at the same time.

“C-Chris…please…oh my god…” she moaned, attempting to pull back. He pulled her back and held her firmly in place. His grip was so strong that even the strongest machine wouldn’t be able to break it.

His green eyes flickered up to her face, making contact with her brown eyes. She didn’t hold his gaze for very long and screwed her eyes shut. His eyes were too intense for her to look at and she was still experiencing disbelief at the fact that this was happening.

Chris bit down lightly onto her clit and that made her shriek loudly. He grinned and released her clit.

“Are…are you done checking now?” Jayda questioned breathlessly.

Chris put on a serious expression, “I need to thoroughly check.”

He slowly slipped one of his long, thick fingers inside, making her gasp for the second time that night. His mouth descended upon her pussy again as he began thrusting the lone curled finger in and out of her tight opening. Jayda clutched the sheets even tighter and tried closing her legs around him, but he held them open.

Jayda had become even more vocal as he finger fucked her while suckling on her clit. She was moaning louder than ever. His pierced tongue felt so fucking good and so did his fingers. He was making her go crazy.

“Oh god,” she cried out when she felt him add a second finger that stretched her a little more. It drove her even crazier when he stopped a little to nibble on her lips. It felt so good to have him nibble there. It was a new sensation. A different sensation.

“W-wait, Chris. I…I…I feel weird,” she whimpered, attempting to pull away. He moved his lips away from her clit, replacing it with his thumb. His thumb began to follow the same rhythm as his fingers. He leaned over and bit down harshly onto one of those meaty thighs of her and that seemed to do it for her because she was soaking his fingers down to the hilt.

Did he slow down? No. He kept going and even slipped in a third finger with ease. He could see that she was feeling extremely sensitive, but he was determined to make the shy woman become a cumming mess before he put his cock inside of her.

“P-please…s-slow down..” she whimpered.

“I’m still checking, Jayda,” he told her, “I think I found something.”

His fingers were practically slamming in and out her, hitting that one spot over and over. Jayda didn’t know what to do. It was so overwhelming to the point where tears were forming in her eyes and she was sobbing loudly.

“I…stop…oh my god…please…I think…I might pee!” Jayda exclaimed. He ignored her and continued his ministrations as her pleas became even more incoherent. He kept going until finally her juice sprayed out of her, hitting his face and wetting his shirt. Jayda shouted his name as she squirted, throwing her head back while her body seemed to seize up. Her mouth had formed an “O” shape.

He lapped up every last drop, then placed a kiss on her sensitive clit. As she went in and out of consciousness, she could feel him nibbling and sucking her inner thigh, dragging his tongue as he went. She became very much wide awake when he bit hard on her thigh, eliciting a yelp from her. He gave the other the same treatment, then trailed his tongue and lips from her soft belly to her breasts.

He took her breasts into his tattooed hands, “I need to check these for good measure.” He bit down on one of her breasts and her breath hitched, he sucked where bit, then repeated the actions all over. It felt nice to have those kissable lips all over her breasts. She couldn’t believe the lips and hands she fantasized about touching her were actually touching her.

Chris’ lips trailed to her nipple and he flipped it with his tongue, then licked all around it in a teasing manner. He took it into his mouth while tweaking and tugging on the other. Jayda didn’t know she could feel this good from her breasts. When she usually played with them, she felt nothing, but with him she felt everything. His piercing was having her experience new sensations that she hadn’t felt before in her virgin life.

He switched to her other breast to do the same, tugging and tweaking the one he had just sucked on. She didn’t know what it was when he sucked on her left breast, but she suddenly came, letting out a moan.

Chris released the hardened bud, trailing his lips to her neck. He bit and sucked her neck in various places as if he was marking her and claiming her as his. Or at least that’s what Jayda wanted to believe.

His lips were soon engaging hers in a sensual kiss. She was in utter shock as she felt him kiss her hard. Jayda couldn’t believe that he was kissing her. This was even more unbelievable too. “Open your mouth for me, Jayda. I need to inspect,” he told her. She parted her lips and he slipped his long tongue inside. It felt thick and a little rough, but it also felt different because of the tongue ring. Jayda moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand tangle into her ginger locs to hold her steady as he kissed her. His other hand moved down between her legs until he reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. Jayda whimpered into his mouth as he began to rub her clit fast. She already knew that he wanted her to keep them spread so he could inspect the area between them, but it was hard to resist the urge to close them. As he rubbed her clit faster, Jayda moaned even more into his mouth.

Chris showed no sign of slowing down and he continued until she was cumming again, wetting the sheets below. Jayda’s lips tore from his as she caught her breath. Chris got off the bed, allowing them to pool at his feet.

As soon as he took his pants off to show what he had, Jayda became scared at the thickness and length. That was a weapon of mass destruction and it wasn’t going anywhere near her.

“W-well. I think the inspection is over. I might just leave,” she attempted to crawl away, but he dragged her towards the edge.

“You can’t leave yet until the inspection is done,” he said, moving between her legs. His hard cock rubbed against and she let out a soft moan.

“Yeah. We’re far from over, kitten,” he smirked, lining himself at her entrance. He slowly pushed in and she let out a small cry from how big it was. He sensed her discomfort and thumbed her clit again to get her to relax. Jayda bit her lip hard as he slipped inch by inch inside of her until he was at the hilt. She had never felt this full in her life. It felt painful to have him stretch her like this.

He didn’t start for a moment, allowing her to become accommodated with his size, but when she was finally accustomed to him, he started giving her harsh strokes that had her clutching the sheets. The grip he had on her hips was sure to leave visible hand prints.

For Jayda, the pain was still there but it was starting to dissipate as he pounded her insides. He wasn’t going too fast, but he was making it feel good.

“Ahhh…Chris,” she moaned.

“Say my name just like that, kitten,” he groaned, rocking in and out of her. Jayda’s back arched off the bed, curling her toes. She never thought that her first time would be with someone she had admired from afar. She imagined it would be with someone who wasn’t famous, but how many people can say they’ve lost their virginity to a worldwide celebrity? Not very many.

Jayda soon came as stars filled her eyes, offsetting Chris’ own climax. She felt him spill rope after rope of cum inside of her as he lazily pumped. It felt good and it made her full too. When she caught her breath, she looked at him as he pulled out of her, “Are we done with the inspection?”

He flipped her onto her stomach, slapping her soft ass hard, “Fuck no.”

He pulled her close and plunged inside of her again while his hands found her hips again, “We’re getting even more thorough this time.”

Her head whipped around to look back at him with wide eyes, opening her mouth to begin protesting, he didn’t give her the chance to as he bullied his cock in and out of her. He was becoming rougher than before and it was knocking the wind out of her. It was such an overwhelmingly pleasurable feeling that had her ready to crawl away, but he dragged her back, raising one of her legs and holding it against his chest as he hit deeper than before. She was clutching the sheets hard, crying out incoherently as he nibbled on her calf. Jayda felt so stuck and she knew that she had to take whatever he was mercilessly giving her. She always pictured him to be a little rough, but now that it was happening, it was too much for her. It was all too much for her and she couldn’t handle it at all. She regretted the times when she talked about wanting someone to be rough and now that they were, she was crawling away in terror. He released her leg and it went down to the bed. This had made her tighter and he was pumping in and out much more vigorously.

“Don’t even think about leaving tonight. You’re not going anywhere, little thief,” he said, emphasizing with each thrust. Jayda didn’t know why being called “little thief” made her erupt on his cock, but it did. The pet names he was giving her were endearing and she really loved it.

True to his word, Chris wore Jayda out. There were moments when she was in and out and he would wake her back up by slamming inside of her, knocking the wind out of her. She didn’t know why she asked for a chance like this, but she was regretting it a little. She didn’t think he was this much of a beast in the sheets and the fact that he was filling her with so much cum that she felt like it was going to leak from her mouth.

Not to mention that he had bitten her in so many places and left marks everywhere. It was as if she had been in a fight with a wild animal, but she left some scratches on his back as well and a couple bites of her own before she was completely out for the count.

Chris looked at the sleeping young adult, admiring his work. He was proud to completely wear her out. For Chris, he had always noticed Jayda on every single stop on their tour. Normal people would be freaked out by it, but Chris wasn’t normal in the slightest. When they were just a small band that was playing in dives, he remembered the night he actually had seen her for the first. He knew she was a teenager and too young to be in the bar. He signed her CD and it made him happy to see her so giddy when she had it.

Later on, when they started getting bigger and bigger, he saw her at every stop, always front and center. He watched as she went from being that starry eyed teenager to this young woman that was throwing her panties on stage. He made sure to pick hers up no matter what and even on this night, he picked them up and put them in his pocket, but he made sure to make eye contact with her.

His band mates, after the show had ended, were against him bringing her back to their hotel after the show because they were creeped out about her always being there. Chris assured them that she was harmless, but they still told him to be careful.

And when he finally found her inside his bathroom, trying to take his shirt that he had worn when he landed here, he decided that this was his chance to finally get her in his bed. He could tell that she was a virgin and that made him feel special. He tried going slow, but when she clamped on him with that innocent expression, he decided to make so much of a mess out of her until she was crying and running from his cock. He didn’t even bother with condoms, even though he had them. He wanted to breed her and did just that by cumming inside her so much.

Chris walked over to her purse and found her phone. Surprisingly, it still had some battery life. He unlocked it with ease, then looked over at her, “You need to put a passcode on this.” He found that she had him as her background and smirked. He went straight to her contacts, then typed in her name and number. He plugged in her phone, then slipped inside the bed with her.

The next morning, Jayda was feeling sore in all the right places and very tired. She knew that she looked a mess and she felt like it too.

“C’mere, Jayda,” she heard someone say. She held out her arms like a toddler and heard someone chuckle, before they lifted her up. She felt herself being lowered into the bathtub and being placed between someone’s legs.

The person bathed her gently, cleaning her body and even her lady parts as she practically slept against them. When they finished, they dried her off, but when she felt the towel touch her private, her eyes became fully open and she found Chris’ tattooed hand down there. She was too stunned to speak at the realization that he was the one that had bathed her and dried her off too.

“Close your mouth before I put something in there,” he closed it gently for her. He handed her a toothbrush and she took it, thanking him softly. The two of them brushed their teeth together, which felt kind of odd to Jayda. He handed her his deodorant too, which seemed even more weird because this just felt like a dream.

When she walked out of the bathroom, she found that her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

“Ummm…where are my clothes?” Jayda asked. He passed her, her clothes which seemed to be washed, dried, and ironed. She pulled on the bubble skirt and then fished into her purse for a spare pair of underwear. She slipped those on and put on the shirt she had on at the concert along with her shoes.

“Thanks,” she said, feeling dazed. Chris walked towards her, fully dressed, and gave her a bruising kiss. She was shocked, but she melted into it and was kissing him back. He pulled her flush against his body, holding her steady and she was grateful because her knees were about to buckle. She felt her panties dampen as his lips and tongue dominated hers. He was going to make her go crazy with these kisses.

He pulled away, leaving her in a daze with the remnants of their kiss leaving a trail, “Wait for me.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Let me walk you out.”

“Mm-hm.”

He chuckled and handed her purse to her. She put it on her shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and walked her down to the lobby. His band members spotted them both and approached, giving her worried looks that went unnoticed by Jayda in her dazed state.

“Initially, I was worried about you, but now I’m worried about her. What the hell did you do?” Damon, the lead singer, questioned. They all noticed how marked up her neck was. It was like she had a fight with a wild animal.

“She’s fine. She’s just tired,” Chris responded.

Changbin, the lead guitarist, stopped eating for a second, “You might wanna get her out of here soon. Paps are outside and there’s fans too.”

“Ah shit,” Chris cursed.

“The garage might be better for you to leave out of. Just make sure you cover her up so they don’t see her face,” Lee Know, the drummer, chimed in.

“Take security with you. Better safe than sorry,” Jeongin said, “And maybe when she’s not out of it, I can actually have a conversation with her.”

“Got it,” the heavily tattooed man nodded. He escorted Jayda out to the garage after requesting security to get the car ready. They were still ambushed as they made their way through the garage, but he did his best to shield Jayda from them.

“Wait a minute. How do you know my address?” Jayda questioned.

That question made him smile, “You should really put a passcode on your phone.” She decided to heed his advice once she was in her home. She never felt a need to since her phone was always close to her no matter what.

When the car arrived outside of her home, he escorted her to her door to make sure she got inside safely. He kissed her one more time, leaving her in that dazed state again.

However, that state was short-lived when she was dragged inside by her mother and ambushed by her two brothers, her sister, and father with questions.

[jellychannie]

Love Is In The Air...!

jellychannie's (late) Valentine's Special

ft. Nagi Seishiro, Michael Kaiser, Yukimiya Kenyu, Otoya Eita

A Blue Lock Valentine’s day special.

High school! AU, valentine’s events, Yukimiya is part of the student government, perhaps these can be all interconnected, GN! Reader, fluff, sweet highschool cliches, not proofread, some may be ooc

wc: 1012 words, about 200 each

note: this is how i cope after i sent an anonymous letter to my crush-- but i think he most definitely knows who sent it

NAGI SEISHIRO

“This… is for me?”

In which Nagi receives his first ever box of chocolates—from you, an admirer.

–.・゜゜��

Nagi was a boring guy, multiple others would say. Sleeps during class, plays too many games, and is way too reserved. And so, he ended up rather lowkey in a sea of people despite his height.

Sure, he has Reo– who does everything with him. But even with Reo, he’s just some tall dude who sleeps more than he studies. 

That is, until you came into the picture. 

February 14th was when your flushed face caught his gaze, a box of heart-shaped chocolates and a rose in your outstretched hands. You avoided his eyes while awkwardly feeling multiple stares on your back.

“Y-you don’t have to take it—but this—I mean it!” You managed to sputter out. Nagi stood in front of you, about to sigh out until your gaze met his all of a sudden. He saw the way they widened and flicked away. His brain churned, and he soon let out a little huff.

What you didn’t expect is that he took the box from you and mumbled, “what a bother,” while opening it up. You looked at him in shock as he took one and put it in his mouth. 

“This is okay…”

MICHAEL KAISER

“National, are we?”

Set up with your rival in a ‘tied to you’ event

-.・゜゜・

Squeals filled your ears in the distance and when you approached the commotion, you were suddenly dragged into the crowd. At the light, you were met with a very familiar pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The same pair you absolutely loathed. 

It would’ve been okay if you could just pay the cancellation fee—but you just spent the last of your money on those damn delicious cookies from some stalls in the campus. It would’ve been okay, but it wasn’t.

Much more when you two were situated in the middle of the school grounds, tied to the flagpole. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment when the ribbon on your wrist tightened, and you had to face this person.

He was holding an umbrella, a smug look on his face, yet the tips of his ears were tinted in a light red. “Guess the flagpole isn’t too bad,” he mused out, looking up at the sun, before at you.

You grumbled, huffing. This was going to be a grueling 10 minutes with Michael Kaiser.

YUKIMIYA KENYU

“Just Married.”

Getting married to Kenyu in a marriage booth.

-.・゜゜・

“I’ll pay for it, I swear,” he begged you, his glasses glinting in the sun. Your boyfriend was a good guy, but you didn’t expect him to suddenly mention the topic of getting married— in a school Valentine’s booth. 

He’s the sweetest guy ever, and his polite stature always had you melting. And who were you to refuse something from him? It was a school event, not a civil thing at all. At least, in some way you could say he was definitely committed to you.

And he stays true to his words, too. You soon found yourself standing right in front of him, seeing the proud smile on his lips. It was almost as if you two were actually getting married. 

A string of red yarn looped around both of your ring fingers, paper flowers in hand, and a makeshift veil on his head. Someone had to wear the veil, anyway. He was happy enough to do anything for you now.

“You may now share kisses, hugs, or a high-five,” the (also student) officiator said through the mic. Yukimiya looked at you, before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug. 

Just married to Yukimiya Kenyu.

OTOYA EITA

“Hey there…”

Eita approaches you, one of the student photographers for the event.

-.・゜゜・

The umpteenth photo of couples tied together by ribbons. You were looking for another subject when Eita came across you, obstructing the view on your lens.

“What you’re doing is boring,” he mumbled, leaning in close to your camera. He wore a nonchalant expression, whatever going on in his head was unreadable. He caught you by surprise when he put his hand on top of yours which held the camera. 

“Can you teach me?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes became visible to your gaze. You would, if he wasn’t too close. You stepped away, only for him to follow.

He stood in front of you, a humble distance from you, “just a picture, please?” oh now he was pleading, an attempt of puppy dog eyes and his hands clasped together. 

While things didn’t go as planned, he did manage to get a free mini photoshoot from you. Guess you’ll catch him in the next event, this time with a better plan.

BAROU SHOEI

“Tis’ some good food.”

A little shared lunch with Barou on hearts day.

-.・゜゜・

Barou appeared grumpy as he leaned against the doorway of your classroom. But at the sight of you, his gaze softened the slightest bit only visible to you.

“Let’s eat together,” he mumbled, placing down a well wrapped bento on your desk before sitting down on the vacant one next to you. A few squeals erupted from the few classmates in the room, with one of them saying you two were eyesores.

But your eyes were never sore with him, after all. You unwrapped the bento, opening the container to see an appetizing meal in front of you. Ample sized beef slices, a serving of greens, and a humble amount of rice. Barou always made your lunches—he insisted when you two started dating, saying that it was only what he needed to do. 

You said your thanks, before digging into your meal. He ate his own lunch, his gaze fixed on you and how you reacted to each dish. You were even too focused on savoring the taste to even notice the heart-shaped box beside the bento container. 

It was simple, a little shared lunch you two shared everyday, with a little twist for today. Perhaps later, he might consider marrying you at one of the booths.

[xxbrightshadowxx]

I may not be able to draw but I can write. Your idea has been circling my brain since I saw it. I’m assuming this is based off your switch au. For anyone not in the loop, this Drabble is based off of op’s Arcane Switch au where Jinx goes to jail and Vi is taken under Silco’s wing. They have a great fic of the concept on Ao3 titled: base violence necessary {Arcane AU} by the name hunnydew. They have more about this au on their TikTok: itsdigichiaki. Go check it out they post cool stuff about arcane and the au. This might be bad but whatever. without a further a due, let’s begin!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Starting a revolution was—hard. To say the least. Those who were under the chem-barons The undercity was riled up. First Silco, the one who most would argue had the most power was dead and now half the Council was dead.

And it was all thanks to Jinx.

Sort of. It was very complicated. Regardless, with her at the firelight’s side it was easier to recruit others to their cause. This meant the amount living at the base grew significantly in numbers. They nearly tripled in amount of residents in the span of almost two months.

It wasn’t always easy at times. With such a quick change to the dynamic it meant supplies ran out quick and Ekko became responsible for more and more people. Not all of them got along, members of old chem gangs fought over past conflict and issues. Finding a middle ground that everyone agreed with was an issue in itself.

The one thing he was glad for was not being alone in this. He had Scar, Vi, surprisingly enough Sevika(if you had told him that months ago he would’ve had laughed), and Jinx.

Speaking of which—

His eyes darted down to the grass area. He leaned over the rail of the treehouse. The teen was with Isha, the little girl fascinated with the older girl’s tattoos. Jinx didn’t spend a lot of time at the firelight base. She preferred to spend time at a hangout near the mining ventilations. Honestly, who could blame her? Half of the residents looked up to her. They praised her and looked to her for guidance. She was the figure of rebellion in the eyes of Piltover. Dangerous, deadly. For Zaun, she was a sign of hope.

For Ekko she was something more.

The boy coughed, bringing his arm to his mouth. Not that he’d ever tell her that. Oh, no, no, no. Many things could kill him. A raid, an accident on his hoverboard, heck even from a mis-step leading him to fall to his death would be less mortifying than her finding out. Death from embarrassment is not how he wanted to go out. He wouldn’t tell her. Not now. Maybe when their top goal wasn’t surviving first.

Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t look. He leaned over and slumped his arm over the rail, his chin resting against his knuckles. She had changed as did he, over the years. No longer did the soft and innocent glint in her blue eyes shone as bright as day. Pink, sharp eyes with bags or exhaustion rested on her face. She had gone through a lot. Powder was not the same girl he fell for. But Jinx was still a sight for sore eyes in Ekko’s heart.

The girl turned, her eyes landing on where Ekko was standing—emphasis on was. The white haired boy bolted to the side out of her sight, praying that she didn’t see him run like a doofus. He waited for a while before peeking his head over. Jinx was back to talking to Isha, attention away from him.

Oh thank, Jana.

Ekko relaxed before he began to make his way down the ladder. He had work to do and he should start on it before he did get caught for staring. He made his way down a shortcut he knew to another section of his base, weaving through the shadows—

“We promise to treat her right. We swear!”

Ekko paused in his steps and turned. Leaning against a shady section of the tree was Vi, Silco’s old right-hand woman(besides Sevika) and Jinx’s sister. She had her arms crossed over her muscular chest as she looked down at a small group of firelights. There were about eight of them, all guys and shorter than Vi. They looked familiar. The red-head blinked at them before saying, “Excuse me?”

“We are asking for your permission to ask Jinx out,” the one in front, the leader, replied in a meek voice.

‘What,’ Ekko thought as he stood there dumbly. He looked at the group and instantly recognized them. Out of all of Jinx’s admirers there was a small group that took the term admiration a little too far. To be more specific, they were enamored by her, singing praise and compliments about the teenager constantly. Yes, it was well, weird. Jinx wasn’t a fan of them but that didn’t discourage them from being her biggest fans. Or at least that’s what Ekkl thought.

“No, I heard you the first time. I’m asking why?” Vi deadpanned as she narrowed her gaze at them.

The group took a step back, eyes shifting from one to the other. The leader took a step forward and replied, refusing to look at her. “Well, we just wanted to make sure we didn’t upset you if she said yes to one of us. Since you’re her older sister and all.”

“Uh-huh,” Vi nodded her head slowly. Might also have to do with the fact that under Silco Vi was sort of a ticking time bomb. Pissing her off, especially in regards to her sister was like signing your death sentence. “And you think she’d say yes to any of you?”

Ekko held back a chuckle. Vi spoke her mind often to those she wasn’t close to. Her dry response resulted in the group wincing but the boys still refused to give up. In fact, her doubt just seemed to make them more determined.

Huh. That struck a chord with Ekko. He knew there were people who had a crush on Jinx.(who wouldn’t?) But what really bugged him was they actually had the courage to shoot their shot. Most of them barely knew Jinx, at least not the real her. They didn’t know her pain, her life, or how wonderful she truly was. They just knew the figure that blew up the council.

Vi looked at all of them, eyes landing on each of them—before she grinned. She spoke again, “Okay, I will give my blessing to date me sister if…” the group all hung on her words, ready for any challenge she’d throw at them. “You tell me her real name.”

The group went still and silence was their answer but another boy in the back asked, “Jinx isn’t her real name?”

“Nope,” Vi shrugged, enjoying as they squirmed in front of her. “Come on, you all want to date her. One of you has got to know her actual name.”

She was having way too much fun with this. Making them feel uncomfortable. One of the boys muttered something before he walked away and soon the group dispersed, leaving the woman alone.

Vi hummed satisfied. She leaned her head against the oak before saying, “I know you are there, Ekko.”

Welp. Looks like his cover has been blown. The teen walked forward to stand beside Vi. He looked at her. “How long have you know I’ve been there?”

Vi chuckled before lightly elbowing him in the side. “Can’t hide from me, little man.” She looked forward to where the group of boys had scattered. “Those guys are going to lose their minds trying to figure out her actual name. Bet you’re happy about that.”

Ekkp began to nod before stopping and glaring at Vi. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Vi snorted letting her arms fall to her sides. “Whatever. Take your sweet time. Just don’t wait forever. I think you two will both die from it if you do.”

Ekko looked away to prevent letting her know how embarrassed she was making him. “Let’s head back to the open. Just in case Powder gets in trouble.”

Vi tilted her head. “Powder huh?”

Ekko huffed, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yeah. Powder.”

Headcanon that I'm too lazy to draw :

When Jinx is in her revolution arc, she develops a group of young, die-hard admirers. They go to VI to ask for permission to ask her out, and VI says she'll grant it if they know what her 'actual' name is. Unfortunately for them, none of them know her by anything other than Jinx.

Except for THE BOY SAVIOUR RAAAAAH

He doesn't ask because he's a bashful yearning idiot, though.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon 3 Prompt 10

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: From @dahvampire Tomura orders around and humiliates Dabi at V... with some puppy play?

Contents: Exhibitionism, Puppy Play, BDSM, Sex Toys, League Won the War

Going to V is always an experience, even if they don't get to do it often anymore. The fact that his lover had missed the club so much that, after they'd won the war, he had put aside time and energy to create a spiritual successor to La Vénus once their new government was in place had been absolutely insane and more than a little funny at the time. It was kind of even funnier when people caught wind of it and realized that this was the only personal project that he had taken up even though the rest of them were constantly working on a variety of their own, from civil stuff to just... getting to live their lives for real when they all had been denied that for so long. It took him a year to be convinced to stay alive after finishing off his father, and then another year of Ujiko's experiments to stitch his body back together so that he would be able to stay once he'd decided it was worth it. But he isn't about to fall apart anymore, his nerves don't scream at him constantly when he uses his quirk, he doesn't cry blood when his lover works him up so much that tears are the only recourse he has for relief. 

And all of that is particularly good because for their visit today, Tomura has decided that he didn't just want his second, or his sub with him, he wanted to see his, "Come here, puppy," His voice carries over the din of the music and Dabi's face heats sharply. The bone gag in his mouth was placed there almost as soon as they arrived. They'd headed straight for the lounge because there were sections of the floor here that were soft and padded for pets to crawl around and for subs to kneel, but his lover had immediately run into someone that does work for some sector of their government and had been open to talking work for a bit while forcing Dabi to wait. Of course his lover didn't have any trouble chatting with them, he was wearing dark red dress pants, and an intricate red lace chest harness underneath a sheer black dress shirt. He looked good, he could fit right in at any trendy club that Toga and he go to when she wants to dance. Dabi, on the other hand, was in a tiny set of shorts that left very, very little to the imagination, especially given the cutout in the back so that the soft custom black and blue tail could hang outside of his body, the heavy metal plug already making him warmer as it pulls at his rim from the gravity of the appendage hanging outside of him. The matching ears, paw gloves that made it so he couldn't use his hands, leash, and collar had completed his outfit, and he wanted to try to save a little bit of face by participating in the conversation. Instead, his lover had gagged him and sent him over to one of the couches to be pet by anyone who wanted to come over and see him. 

Everyone knows who he belongs to, and everyone knows that being given permission to touch means light strokes of his hair, petting along his neck and chest, teasing their fingers over his stomach and the tops of his thighs, but that anything more bold would probably result in their hands being reduced into ash or dust. He knows that his master won't ever let anyone else play with him, but being pet and cooed at by so many helps to make his head hazy and make it harder for him to remember that he didn't want to embarrass himself. He slips off of the couch and gets on his hands and knees, crawling over to his master on limbs that feel weak from how hazy he's already getting. His jaw is sore from the bit, the silicone soft between his teeth, but stopping him from swallowing properly from how it pushes down on his tongue. He's drooling. Supposed to be the second most powerful person in the entire country and he can feel eyes on him as he drools on himself and crawls on the floor like an animal to his lover. 

Tomura's hand finds his face as soon as he's close enough to reach him, laughing when he sees the slick all over his chin and making Dabi whine as his body gets hotter from hearing that sound. "Oh, puppy, it's only been an hour. Surely you aren't so pathetic that a bit of petting has gotten you so worked up?" He couldn't answer even if he wanted to, and Tomura shakes his head slightly before he reaches for the strap that is locking the gag in his mouth. He wouldn't have been able to keep that in his mouth without tearing staples a year ago, but now the smooth black skin of a nomu where his burns used to be have made it so much easier for him to receive the treatment he wants from his master. 

Dabi is able to relax his jaw, and that constant low-level discomfort slipping away from him somehow makes his head even hazier. 

"I think my puppy needs a drink." 

Dabi perks up, thinking that might mean that he's either going to get a real drink, or he might get to suck his master's cock so that he can keep the ache in his jaw going. So it's a startling humiliation when, instead of his lover drawing him closer or offering him a glass, he takes a silver dog bowl from the table with Puppy engraved on the front and he puts it at his feet and fills it from a water bottle. 

"Sit pretty, puppy." 

Dabi's face is bright red, he knows it has to be across the skin that can still blush. Tomura's eyes narrow on him when he doesn't immediately shift, and that has him moving with a thin whine. He wants to be a good boy, it just... it makes him so embarrassed to have to do this in front of so many people. He shifts to tuck his legs neatly beneath him, his paws against his thighs, but doing nothing to hide how the angle of the plug shifting inside of him and knowing that he's being looked at as he does this is enough to have started to make his cock stir. 

"Drink." Dabi reaches for the bowl, "Puppies don't have hands." His master scolds him lightly, making him even more embarrassed. He knows that. But-- Tomura is watching him with cooling red eyes, so Dabi forces himself to dip his head and try to lap up the cool water in the bowl. He can't do it gracefully and the sound of his tongue trying to scoop the liquid into his mouth is far too loud and damning in his own ears. He manages a few sips to satisfy his owner before he sits back up. "Good boy. Heel." 

He's happy to do that, at least, moving right next to his master and sitting pretty beside him. He even gets pets after a minute, Tomura stroking his hair and letting him lean his temple against his thigh as he turns his attention back to the people he was speaking with. Dabi tries to calm down and be patient, but he is still so hard, even more so now that he actually has his master's hand against his body. His prick is aching in his thin shorts, straining the tight fabric and creating a wet spot that glistens under the lights of the club. He manages to stay still and not whine for all of five minutes before he can't handle it anymore and he starts to whimper and nose at Tomura's thigh. 

"Quiet." His tone is so stern, but when he looks down and sees that his cock is straining in his shorts, he sighs before he addresses the people he was speaking with. People who are watching him like they're vultures just waiting to swoop in and take any scraps his master leaves of his dignity once he's done shredding it into pieces. "My puppy might be in rut already. Heel," he tells Dabi again as he hooks his leash back around his neck and stands. Dabi gets to his hands and knees too, hoping that he's going to lead him over to some of the low couches and play with his tail or fill him up himself. He should have known it wouldn't be that simple. Instead Tomura brings him over to one of the other play areas, finding a breeding bench and then making him wait as he requests something from one of the workers. 

It only takes a minute or two before Tomura has finished setting up what he wants now and Dabi is swaying slightly, trying to shake his tail to show his master how excited he is to be bred like his bitch. 

"There, now my puppy can try to show everyone that he isn't an inexperienced, needy little mutt." 

Dabi doesn't understand, but as Tomura moves, he pulls on his leash and lets him see that he's set up an onahole in the bench. He whines loudly as he realizes what he wants him to do now, his whole body heating even more sharply with his humiliation. 

"Up." 

He doesn't dare disobey, and when Tomura pulls his shorts low enough that he has to feed his tail back through their hole as his cock is aching and visible to everyone else in the club, he fears he's not going to be able to last long. He can hardly hold out when he gets to hump his master's leg in their room. The pocket pussy will be so much more stimulating than that. He whimpers, but he doesn't protest when Tomura tears open a packet of lube and dribbles it along his cock. 

"Now, let me see if you can be a good boy or if you need more training, puppy." 

Dabi doesn't care which it is as Tomura tugs his leash and guides him up, watching him from the other side of the bench as he rubs his cock against the soft silicone of the toy. He just knows that it feels so good to hump his cock inside of it, and that he's too much of a stupid animal to remember how to behave.  

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to participate in the event, consider checking out my Ko-Fi here!

[zyonicorn]

Click to Start Chatting

Many months ago, I met my girlfriend through an app called “V-loop”. It was an app for meeting new people, and there was a function for you to follow people you liked and chat with them, though the requirement was that the other person had to follow you too.

The first time I saw her profile, I was hesitating if I should follow her or not, but she's literally my type. “Let’s just give it a try.” I stared at the “@_zyozyo/ 106 followers/ 5 following” for a few seconds, then clicked “follow” eventually.

I don't even know if she liked girls, all I knew was her name, Jihyo, which kept lingering in my mind. She was so gorgeous, every picture seemed like a piece of art, that I didn't even deserve to savor. 

“Click to start chatting”

It was my third time checking the chat session in an hour, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the line, indicating she followed me back.

“Hey there! Are you y/n?”

Yes! Nice to meet you 🫣

“Why’d you follow me?”

Cuz you look easy to get along with :)

“I see.. You’re cute”

Her direct expression made you don't know how to answer for a moment.

Thanks..?

The chat continued. The two of you started to share about your daily lives, people you've met, what you had for lunch. In just a week, you got closer to Jihyo that she told you about her work, stress, and some personal matters.

“Y/n.. I'm pretty frustrated lately.”

What’s wrong??

Everything sounded normal, just like how you usually chat with her.

“I don't know if I should tell you but..”

“What I meant by ‘frustrated’ is sexually.”

Oh um, but why are you telling me about this?

“I want you to solve it for me.”

Though you were really, really shocked by her straightforward words, you still replied right away, just to hide the fact that you were panicking, staring at the screen while your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

I mean, why me? We met online and you’ll never know who I actually am.

There are many scams nowadays, and despite being shocked, you’re also worried about Jihyo.

“Cuz I know I can trust you. I have my reasons, just say yes or no.”

“Of course, I won't force you if you don't want to, it's my personal problem after all.”

She’s so thoughtful, that your heart pounds faster for her again.

Well, sure I can help you. But it's not as easy as it’s said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book a hotel room and send you the address. All you have to do is go there and help me out.”

She sent you a link right away, booked tomorrow, a whole day. She doesn't sound nervous or embarrassed anymore, unlike you, who still not believe your type asked you out, for sex.

That night you barely slept, the only 3 hours of sleep, you had a dirty dream about Jihyo. You woke up at 6, found your underwear wet. “What the fuck…” you breathe out, without thinking much, you change quickly and have a shower.

The time she suggested was 8, at a cafe near the hotel, so the two of you can have a small chat and get to know each other.

“I’m over here, Jihyo-ssi!” you waved while tipping your toes, trying to maintain your smile and not faint from the beauty of the woman approaching in baggy jeans and a white ruffled top.

“Hey there!! Oh…” she suddenly stopped talking, looking up and down at you. You thought you looked messy, or maybe disappointing her because you looked different from the picture, so you quickly fixed your posture and pulled your shirt straight.

“What’s the matter?” you hesitated before asking, the woman’s bright confident expression seemed to soften a little. She looked back into your eyes and smiled kindly, your face exposing your nervousness. “Nothing, but you’re even cuter than I thought” she calmly said. 

You blushed at her words, which Jihyo noticed right away. She smiled even more that it pushed her cheeks up perfectly. 

“Alright, let’s go in.” her arm wrapped around your shoulder, while you blushed even harder from her warm touch. She helped you with your chair, then sat at your opposite. Looking at you, she asked “Do you want to drink something?” though you had mentally prepared for what would happen today already, you’re still shy about being in front of Jihyo.

“N-no, thanks. I’ve had my breakfast,” you responded. “Okay. Our check-in is at  9, so why don't we have a small talk first?” she started the topic. The chat between you two sounded just like how you chatted online. Her friendly tone eased your anxiety. 

The chat went well, she started to brush your leg with her shoes. Leaning closer to you across the table, she asked, “Why don't we head off to the hotel now? It’s almost time.” her smirk showed her excitement.

“Sure” You got up as she held your hand, like a normal couple, though you were too timid to hold her back until her fingers crossed yours.

On your 5 minutes way to the hotel, you started the conversation. “Don’t get me wrong but, have you done this many times before?” you asked after hesitating.

“Done what?” “Like- having sex with people you met online?” you asked, though it’s hard to say it out loud. “Oh honey, what makes you think that?” she looked surprised for a moment, but fixed her expression quickly. “I-I mean, you’re all calm from the start, I wonder if you’re experienced,” you explained yourself.

“I did have sex before, with my ex-boyfriend. But he never satisfied me. We broke up and I'm feeling empty. So I wanted to try it with a woman, then you showed up.” she said. You were kind of confused, are you that extraordinary? You never found yourself attractive. That's what you asked Jihyo, she replied, “You’re kind and caring. Have some confidence in yourself! I found it really comfortable to be with you.”

That's almost a confession, you thought. Maybe confidence is what you lack. The two of you stepped into the hotel hall. It was big and the atmosphere was peaceful. The receptionist handed Jihyo the key as she took care of everything. 

There’s a big window in the room, with a large bed for two. The fact that you’re having sex with this beautiful woman hit you suddenly. Your heart pounded faster and faster, you tried to hide your blush while bending over to take off your shoes. Jihyo was faster than you, she put her bag aside and sat on the edge of the bed.

She pats her side, signaling you to sit there. The bed was soft and clean, the sheet felt cold like your hands. “So.. Do you want to start?” “S-sure” you answered, but you have no idea how to do it. 

She smirked and leaned closer, her face hovering above yours. “Maybe I’ll begin first,” she whispered and tilted her head so she could kiss your lips. The first kiss was soft, like testing the water. You closed your eyes, feeling her moist lip on yours, slowly opening your mouth and her tongue slipped in smoothly. It was as hot as you imagined, your hands reached for her shirt to pull her closer. She smiled at your eagerness, as you get turned on more and more.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, along with the sound you and Jihyo’s mouths made. You sneaked your hand down to Jihyo’s crotch, another to her tit. Feeling the temperature passing through the clothes, unlike your cold hands, she seems to be hot.

“Can you take the lead?” she noticed that you relaxed a bit, then asked softly while pulling away. “So we’re starting right now?” you smirked. You've thought of pushing her into the bed directly, but you know it’s polite and necessary to ask, you’re the one pleasuring her today, anyway.

“Sure, if you can,” she said and pulled you into a kiss, more passionate than before. Her soft whimpers are leading you to release your need, you press her into the bed, straddling her while kissing. “Take those off,” you said. She pulled her shirt and blouse, and you took off her jeans, leaving her underwear on.

You gasped from seeing her boobs spring free, they’re bigger than they looked like when she was wearing her bra and the shirt. “How do you want me to please you?” you asked while drawing slow circles on her abs.

“Suck on my tits and finger me, I know you want it,” she smiled in anticipation, while you were still not moving your gaze away from her breasts. 

You leaned down and grabbed her tits with both hands, though you couldn't fully hold on them. Enveloping one of her nipples with your lips, she felt your hot breath fanning her skin and your cold hands at the same time, feeling the sensation while giving out soft whines.

She guides one of your hands to her abs, then underwear. You pressed into her clit through the fabric softly, making Jihyo moan even louder.

You moved to the side of her and sat up, playing with her chest with one hand and another rubbing her clothes clit. 

“You’re dripping,” you smirked and circled even faster, brushing her slit occasionally. “For you, love” her voice unsteady. Love? She just called me love? That name is melting you on the inside, but you have to act calm.

“Can I take it off?” you asked while reaching for the strap of her underwear. She immediately nodded. It was a white normal underwear, matching her bra. 

A string of juice connected the cloth and her pussy, you didn't expect she would be this “juicy”. You cut the string with your finger and playfully licked it. She looked at you staring at her pussy, “Taste it” her voice was soft, you didn't catch what she was saying- or rather you would say, you didn't believe what she was saying.

“Sorry?” you asked her to repeat. She said again, “Eat me.” This time you made sure you didn't hear her wrong. You’ve never licked a pussy, you don’t know how to make Jihyo comfortable with your mouth.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you still asked just in case. She nodded and closed her eyes, “don’t push yourself too much just because of me, love” she said. You took off your clothing, naked while your face hovered on Jihyo’s pussy. She was being so thoughtful, to be honest, just by chatting with her, you thought she would use you like a sex toy. But turns out she cares about your feelings too.

You lapped your hot tongue onto her clit, feeling your saliva dropping from the roof of your mouth. Jihyo curled her legs and let out a whimper. “Just go for it, baby. I can’t wait” She sounded weak, almost begging you. And of course, you would obey this perfect woman. 

You sucked her clit and folds into your mouth, her juice covering your lips. Jihyo’s mouth fell open, she gasped and exhaled heavily under your touch. She’s so sensitive that you wanted to tease her. You flicked your tongue on her clit and fanned your breath on her pussy.

“S-suck me just like how you did..” she spoke up and her fist clenched onto the hotel’s bed sheet.

You remember you’re here to satisfy Jihyo, so you decided to stop teasing her. You took her clit into your mouth, saliva mixed with her juice. It’s something you’ve never tasted before, tastier than anything else.

It’s time, you thought. Putting your tongue into her cunt, it was moist and warm. Her tight wall clenched, although your jaw was sore, you didn’t stop. You started to bob your your head, paying attention to Jihyo’s breathing.

“Hmph-” her noises sharp but short, legs bending uncontrollably. Her back started to arch, she held your head and tried to fuck your face. You kept yourself in place and licked her sweet spot, her moans getting denser and denser.

Her juice squeezed onto your face, some dropped into the sheet below. Her eyelid was half closed, she panted heavily.

You lay next to her, she hugged you and kissed your lips eagerly. You thought she would need some rest, but it was the complete opposite. You looked up, “what’s next?”

She stared into your eyes, lust and desire filled her gaze.

“Now let mommy treat you nice and well, as the payback for the wonderful work you’ve just done.”

Mommy? What does she mean? Your brain did not really register her words. But that doesn’t matter, she flipped you so now you’re on your stomach. Your juice oozed out from hearing her moans just now, making your crotch a mess.

She leaned onto you, her hot wet pussy right under your ass cheek. You felt Jihyo’s chest pressed onto your back as her hand moved slowly from your upper back to your ass, then your wet needy cunt, the trail of touch her fingertip left giving you a chill in your spine.

She rubbed your clit and folds forcefully, teasing around the entrance. Her delicate touches don't feel like it’s her first time with a woman. She knows everything you need, every bit of skin is caressed.

Her hand moved around your stomach and went under it, giving her a better angle to touch your pussy. It went between the bed and your skin, hot and moist, you don’t know if it’s her sweat or your slick.

She started to circle your clit ruthlessly, your muffled moans covered by the pillow that you buried your face in. You felt Jihyo starting to grind her pussy on the back of your thigh, slick coating your skin as pleasure builds in your body. 

 Her bare pussy grinding on your leg, she rocked her hips with desire, while working on your clit with her fingers. “Oh god you sound so good” she moans and praises every sound you make. Pressing your head into the pillow even more, you felt the suffocation. Mind blank, only the knot in your stomach slowly unraveling, and tied tight again every time she slow down to tease. 

Your head spins and cunt clenches as she circle her fingers. She noticed your moans and softened to tease. “L-let me cum-” You raised your head, didn't notice the tears on your face. Sweat stuck your hair on your face, making you look messy.

“Call me mommy” she commanded. Maybe it’s her “kink”, you obeyed her immediately. “M-mommy please” you breathed out.

She sped up her fingers, the sound of wetness sent to your ears. You felt like you were almost blacking out. 

The knot in your core seems to be releasing, slowly consuming the little sanity left in your mind. Your feet clasped Jihyo’s hand in between, your moans becoming denser, you felt like someone was holding onto your lungs, not letting you breathe. Jihyo’s voice was right next to your ear, your back arching up from time to time as you felt Jihyo speeding up on your thigh. “Fuck” you heard her faintly breathe out. She sounds angelic, you would love to keep fucking her just to hear her again.

“Hmph-!!” you squeezed your eyes shut, almost crying out of pleasure. The organisms washed through your body completely, Jihyo’s juice coated your thigh, she hugged you tight and continued to draw circles on your clit, until you have fully ridden out your climax.

She took her hand out, dripping with your water. You couldn't move at all, mind blank, vision blurred. The bed sheet was all wet, you felt Jihyo’s honey going down your flesh. You uncontrollably shivered, slick still slowly flowing out of your cunt.

In Jihyo’s eyes, your face is washed red, cum dripping, hair stuck onto your face because of your sweat and tears, your mouth slightly opened, heavily breathing, while you shivered hard.

Jihyo sucked the slick on her fingers, and cleaned you up with her mouth. You felt her tongue going from your thigh to your dripping pussy. She sucked on it a few times, you felt your sensitive cunt go through some tiny organisms as she licked you up.

She flipped you over, looking at you from above with a big smile on her face. “Messy” She kissed you as you pulled her into your body. Your words were still shaky, “I’ve never had such great sex ever” “I think I might be addicted.” 

She sat up and put her head onto her thigh, you’re now lying as Jihyo strokes your hair softly. “Then we should do this often.” She looked at you and said. You smiled, if you do this often, you think you might be ‘used up’ one day.

“Rest for a while. I’ll help you with the shower later.”

You fell asleep. She softly said to your ears, “Thank you.”

-

Pretty much rushed, I’m not satisfied with this fic but I don't want to keep you guys waiting :( sry for the low quality and the long waitttt

[theazkabandreamer]

Valentine Competition and Poetry Chaos

Breakfast was a quiet affair that morning. 

Harry was reading the Daily Prophet and sipping on his tea. Six-year-old James was eating his cereals whilst Ginny was coaxing a stubborn two-year-old Lily to eat some porridge. But all Lily was interested in were the blueberries. Harry’s four-year-old son Albus was peering around Harry, trying to look at the moving pictures whilst nibbling on his apple slices. Harry enjoyed Albus’s company and reading the paper with him. 

Albus was at that innocent stage where he would ask questions and Harry would do his best to answer them no matter how daft they were. As Harry explained to Albus why the graduates from Durmstrang would climb all the way to the top of Mount Everest with the help of the Bubble-Head Charm, only for them to fly off on their brooms, something caught his eye. 

It was a headline in the Daily Prophet. 

Winner of the Daily Prophet Valentine’s poem competition, Ginny Potter:

His eyes are as green as a Fresh pickled toad, his hair is dark as a blackboard. And he is mine for he is truly divine, the hero who twice conquered the Dark Lord. 

Harry was glad he wasn’t drinking any tea at that moment because he would’ve spat it out. He remembered the singing Valentine Ginny had sent him during his Second Year at Hogwarts when the dwarf had cornered him in the corridor in front of many people. 

It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“I see your entry won in that poem competition for the Daily Prophet,” he said casually. "I think I might've heard that one before."

Ginny was halfway feeding porridge to a sulking Lily and looked around to see Harry smirking at her. Albus was engrossed in the dancing cabbages in the Charm improvement advertisement. 

“You mean my entry won?” She asked, her eyes blazing with a hint of mischief. 

Harry chuckled at the way she feigned surprise. She was no longer that shy little girl anymore. 

“That’s what it says in the Prophet,” he said. “Winning entry.”

James was munching on a spoonful of his cereals and looked between his parents with a confused look. 

“I can’t believe it won. It’s not exactly a first-class poem,” Ginny muttered.

“You didn’t tell me you were planning on using that same song you came up with in your first year,” Harry said, unable to contain his grin. 

“I had to,” Ginny said, her eyes blazing fiercely. “I overheard Romilda Vane in Diagon Alley the other week going on about how she’s come up with this poem for the Daily Prophet competition that would win your heart. I saw red and was ready to curse her into next week but then Luna told me to write a poem myself.”

“So you decided to tweak the song you sent me on that Valentine’s Day all those years ago,” Harry said, unable to contain his laughter. 

“It’s better than hexing Romilda Vane,” Ginny said. 

“Only you could turn a singing valentine into a winning poem,” Harry said fondly, leaning across the table. 

“Don’t kiss,” James said. “I’m having my breakfast.”

Harry and Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle at James’s grumpy expression. Harry leaned back and Ginny ruffled James’s hair. 

“Don’t worry, James,” she said. “Your father is more likely to die of embarrassment at the moment.”

James’s face split into his signature toothy grin as he looked between his parents. 

“Well, at least I’m not on the ground trying to push a singing dwarf off me this time,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“And my poem is far better than the slop Romilda Vane would’ve written,” Ginny said. 

“That’s true,” Harry laughed.  "I can't believe she would still think I have any interest in her. I still remember how she spiked those cauldron cakes with love potion."

Albus was so engrossed with the images of the Irish Quidditch team celebrating their latest win, that Harry thought he could wave a hand in front of his son’s face and Albus wouldn’t notice. 

“I know a poem,” James said suddenly and Ginny groaned. 

“It’s not the poem about Hags, by any chance?” Harry asked. “You know you’re not allowed to say that one especially if Great Great Auntie Muriel is around. You know she didn’t take too kindly to being compared to a wrinkly old Hag the last time you performed that poem.”

“Even if it is true,” Ginny said darkly.

“No,” James said. “It’s a different one.”

Harry felt a sense of trepidation but forced it down. James's poems weren't exactly poems you could print in the Daily Prophet. 

“Well let’s hear it,” Ginny said. “And no comparing Muriel to Hags this time. We don’t need the drama.” 

With a loud scrape, James pushed his chair back and stood up on it so that he could see everyone. Lily’s little face lit up and she gave James a little wave. Albus got bored of looking at the pictures of the Irish Quidditch team and looked at James with trepidation. James had a determined look on his face and he took a deep breath: 

“There was an old man with a Crup and he turned it very blue, he fed it dead flies, bits of fluff and lots of gooey goo! The Crup was very hungry, it wanted food to eat, so it went to the old man’s cupboard and it snuck a tasty treat. The old man was very angry, he threw the Crup out on the grass, but when the old man’s back was turned, the Crup bit him on the arse!”

Albus burst into giggles and Lily started giggling and clapping. James was soaking up the adulation. Ginny caught Harry’s eye and they both turned away to hide their laughter. James stood on his chair looking very proud of himself and basking in the laughter of his siblings, grinning his signature toothy grin. 

“And that’s my poem,” he said finally and Ginny and Lily gave him a round of applause.

It took Harry a while to find his voice and James was still standing on his chair grinning from ear-to-ear whilst Albus and Lily were still laughing. 

“That was. That was err-“ 

Harry didn’t have the words to describe the ensuing chorus of laughter and chaos that would erupt if James recited that poem at the Burrow for Sunday lunch with all the Weasleys present. 

“That was very good, James,” Ginny said, and James beamed with pride and performed a little bow. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “You’ve definitely inherited your Mum’s artistic side and your Uncle Ron's use of words.” 

“I’ve got more poems if you want to hear them,” James said, sitting back down. “One about a dragon and Great great Auntie Muriel.”

“That’s great, love,” Ginny said. “Save it for her funeral. Harry, I could give you a private reading of my winning poem if you want.”

“Private reading, eh?” Harry asked, a smirk playing across his lips as Ginny leaned closer. 

“Oh no, they’re going to kiss!” James exclaimed. “I’m out of here!” 

With another loud scrape, James got up from the table and ran from the kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“James, your breakfast!” Harry called after him, but he heard the door to James’s room slam shut. 

“Works every time,” Ginny chuckled, wiping Lily’s face. 

Harry checked his watch. 

“I’d better get to work,” he said. 

Harry kissed Ginny goodbye, ruffled Albus's hair and gave the Daily Prophet to him. Albus took it as if it were a treasure and hugged Harry. Lily waved at Harry and Harry hugged his daughter goodbye but Lily seemed reluctant to let go. 

It took some gentle coaxing from Harry and Ginny for Lily to finally let go of Harry.

When he got to the Ministry of Magic, he heard several conversations discussing Ginny’s Valentine’s poem. Harry thought about the poem all day and it cheered him up and he was in a good mood all day.  

‘So much better than chocolates,’ he thought.  

Harry imagined that there would be an entire fan club dedicated to that poem. He felt as if his heart could burst with pride.

It was not every day that your wife submitted her old singing valentine to the Daily Prophet.

[best-fictional-pterosaur]

To warm up before the tournament itself, and to help me a little with bracket making:

Please reblog for a larger sample size, and follow if you haven't already and would like to participate!

[sparklingchim]

[shigussy]

i keep getting tiktoks of these younger gen z kids referencing a time they did something relating to fandom in public and now they're embarrassed by it and everytime i see one i sit there thinking over all of middle and high school and having genuinely 0 moments that i feel embarrassed by, like i definitely did a lot of shit these kids would be embarrassed by but i think these are all just really fucking funny

also photographic evidence of the kinda kid i was. these are from 2014/15 when i was in 8th grade

-desolation row one shot(still on wattpad gerard way/reader smut)

-twerk it on (mcr crack fanfic no longer on wattpad but i have another fic in my library called twerking in taco bell which definitely ALSO used for my reading log)

-frank iero must die(a serial killer/assassin frerard fic, still on wattpad)

-hair (really vague maybe a phanfic? nowhere in my wattpad library rip)

my binder i used in 7th grade i had a blue one that looked pretty similar to this for 8th grade but idk where it went, also the parts i scribbled out are my full legal name i had written on it. i wrote it normally and then the big spot is where i wrote my name REALLY BIG in elysian code from the vladimir tod books. also the lines are from when i used an exacto knife to cut up some papers and forgot that my binder was underneath

in conclusion yall can now see why im so shameless about talking about shigaraki the way i do

[anonyanonymouse]

🙈

[clenastia]

you know what irrational pet peeve i have in writing? when people have a character who CANNOT lie (magic, fae, Lucifer from the TV show, etc) and then.

They have them say something that's a lie. and then follow it up with a "just kidding!" like.

no?

that's still a lie? like if there is magical impetus in not lying. then you can't lie and just follow it up with a just kidding, or a that was sarcasm darling?

like maybe it's just because in those gundam wing fanfics that i've never properly written out i put way too much effort into making certain every single word and statement duo says are 100% true while still being misleading. but.

ugh.

i dunno.

it just bothers me so much when other authors just don't put in the same degree of effort into making sure their characters literally never lie.