#he does not look like he says “lit”......

[paarksunghoon]

can you write something with soft dom bestfriend!jake eating out inexperienced!shy!reader after he finds out she’s never done stuff like that before (with lots of praise plz) tyyy

I shied away from the suuuper innocent/shy trope but kept some elements in there

***

“No one’s ever eaten you out before?”

“Jake!”

He throws his hands up like he’s asking an innocent questions. “Hey, I’m not judging you for it! It’s just that…you’ve hooked you with a few people, haven’t you?” Jake watches you hug one of your plushies against your chest.

“Once.” Your cheeks feel warm and you resist the urge to hide your face behind the soft object. “I don’t do it often. You know that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not hooking up. What happened?”

You can’t meet your best friend’s eye. “He just…finished too soon and didn’t do anything else.”

“That’s deplorable.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He didn’t want to taste you?”

You sigh and lie back down on your mattress, shutting your eyes while keeping the plushie between your arms and pinned against your chest. Jake looks at you and sees your feet planted on the bed as you keep your knees bent. The sleep shorts you’re wearing aren’t nothing new. He’s seen you wear it plenty of times but tonight, it feels a little bit different.

You, on the other hand, don’t feel Jake’s wandering eyes. You’re too mortified talking about this kind of stuff because your best friend is far more experienced with sex than you are. He’s athletic, attractive, and someone who jumped at the chance to sleep around once he started university. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone people naturally gravitate towards and despite knowing Jake since the beginning of middle school, sex is the one topic you struggle to talk about with him.

But Jake, the ever persistent best friend who just wants the best for you, won’t let it go. He rarely pries into your sex life and if you’re talking to anybody because he’s typically the one who’s preoccupied with hookups or casual flings.

It’s currently the peak of spring and it’s starting to get warmer outside. One of your windows is cracked open and amidst your inner turmoil, you hear the crickets chirping outside. You don’t see Jake’s eyes glance over your bare legs and how he gulps when his gaze reaches the shirt you’re wearing that’s riding up to show a small portion of your stomach.

“Not all of us have a lot of experience, okay?!”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with me.”

“No,” Jake says, pulling the plushy from your arms and throwing it beside him, “but I know you better than you know yourself. I know you compare how many people you’ve slept with to me.”

You evert his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around.” Your best friend laughs.

“I know. It doesn’t make me happy anymore but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have sex, Y/N.”

You huff and pull yourself up on your elbows to look at Jake. His annoyingly boyish charms and freshly dyed, dark brown hair make him look like a supermodel underneath your ambient lighting. The room is dimly lit with hues of pink and yellow, and you don’t know if Jake’s looking extra delectable because of the light or because you’ve started to look at him differently.

“Easy for you to say. People want to have sex with you.”

Jake bites back a retort. “I bet people want to have sex with you too.” You roll your eyes.

“If I were a guy, I’ll bet I could stare at a girl and know I’d be getting some.” You hear him laugh but that does nothing to quell your embarrassment. Jake sits up and scoots closer until he’s looking down at you.

“What is it that you really want?”

“Jaeyun.”

“I dunno, maybe if you say it then you’ll manifest it, or some shit.” Jake doesn’t know why but he likes that you can’t make eye contact with him.

“I…”

You finally look at him. He tilts his head and nods once. “Go on.”

“I just…I want someone to make me feel good, okay?”

“That can’t be all you want. There’s gotta be something more.”

“I want a guy to eat me out. Happy?” It’s embarrassing to say out loud. Jake grins.

“Very. Now you’re manifesting this into reality.”

“You’re really weird, Jake.” He laughs.

“So you tell me.” He brings his finger up to your bare knee and traces a random pattern that makes you feel tingly. It’s a new feeling around your best friend and you look at him curiously.

“More guys should eat girls out,” he says, cutting the silence abruptly. “Guys say they’re good at fucking but they never get anyone off.”

You groan. “Everybody sucks. It seems like no guy likes to go down on a girl, or whatever.”

“Some do.”

“You mean to tell me there are some guys who actually like eating a girl out?”

“Yes.” Jake looks down at you and holds your eye. He doesn’t move and you watch as his fingers start to grip the comforter. You speak after a long pause. He doesn’t break eye contact.

“A-Are you saying you like to do that?”

He doesn’t let up the eye contact. “I love it. Could do it forever.”

You gulp. “R-Really?”

Jake nods. “Yeah.”

“What do you like about it?” Your voice, ever so timid and testing the waters, makes him excited.

He licks his lips. “I like the taste the most. Always so nice and wet. Sweet, almost. I like the way it feels too. Makes me think I’m about to die.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“No. I’d be happy if eating pussy was the last thing I did.”

The look he gives you is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before. His mouth twitches while he sits in front of you and you’re beside yourself when you rub your legs together. Jake doesn’t make a move to touch you but his steady gaze makes you squirm.

“Are you…offering?”

Jake chuckles. “Would it be bad if I was?” Not really.

“Honestly? Not really…”

“Let me take your shorts off, mkay?”

Jake hooks his fingers around your flimsy sleep shorts and pulls them down slowly as you feel the fabric glide against your inner thighs. The cool air provides an electric shock to your mound and you realize then just how wet you’ve become.

Your best friend opens up your legs to little resistance and finds you too cute when you bunch up your pillows to rest your back against it. He toys with you for a moment, using his thumb to gently brush over your slit while grunting at how wet your panties have become. Jake pulls them aside and is met by the place you need him the most.

“Do you want me to eat your pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, feeling his warm breath over your wet folds.

Jake doesn’t answer you. Instead, he pushes his head down and spreads his tongue all over you and moans at the first taste. You’re so warm and tense underneath his touch and his hands come to your thighs to keep them pried open but at the same time, Jake rubs his palm all over your skin to soothe your rigidness.

His hands support your legs too, forcing them open when you start to close in. It feels like he’s spreading you apart across the board and looking down at him makes your heart beat even faster. Jake looks so lost in his own pleasure while making you feel good too. His eyes are closed and his lashes kiss his cheeks in a way that makes him look heaven sent.

His tongue feels amazing and this sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The wet slurping and constant pressure feels like you’re about to burst into a million pieces at any moment and you’re sure you’d become addicted to this if every guy made you feel the way your best friend does.

It should feel weird to have him touching you like this. You’ve only thought about him in the bedroom a handful of times before shaming away these feelings towards your best friend but looking down at him with his eyes closed and tongue pressed so deep inside of you makes your legs shake and toes curl.

You come without a warning and Jake encourages your loud string of moans when he licks you clean, lapping your wetness up like a dog drinking water. Jake’s face is so messy and so wet with your sheen and his spit before he wipes himself with the back of his hand.

He looks up at you before you can get a word out. “Let me do that again.”

[crazyvik97rpg]

Alan didn't let William get out of this hug for a while - he just held him tight and rubbed his back soothingly. If Sebastian was going through something so serious, than it was more than telling when William looked like he looked today. Exhausted, big dark circles under his eyes, Alan just knew he worried so much, he couldn't imagine what these two were going through. On top of that, Sebastian was still so young. Getting such diagnosis at such point in time - it must be soul crushing.

Visiting him though seemed like an excellent idea, William agreed and so did the others. Sebastian seemed fine enough already for that. Eric smiled: "Great, then we could visit him all together. What about tomorrow, right after school? In which hospital does he stay, how far is it? We could get him some flowers and sweets, some chocolate, to cheer him up".

"Ohh yes, that sounds great. I can buy the flowers", Ronald volunteered with a grin, "I have experience in buying flowers, I've been getting Sonia a lot of them lately. I bet if I tell Seb that, he will feel better right away", he snickered - Sebastian would be always so grumpy whenever Ronald did something stupid regarding Sonia after all.

"That's great, then we can get the sweets. Will, you know best what he likes", Alan smiled, "But we'll manage. So then tomorrow after school? We can take our car, there's enough room for us", he patted William's back and only now pulled away from the hug, so he could look at him.

If Sebastian only knew what great friends he had - not only worried for him but caring for William too. He needed the support, more than anyone - he kept neglecting his needs for Sebastian, to be strong for him, but that could only work for so long either.

Around noon, Sebastian was alone in his room again - his neighbour was now in surgery and he got to chat with him only a little bit before. He was friendly, a former military guy but now retired. An interesting fellow to chat with for sure.

His body kept him busy either way - the pain was a handful today and the nurses didn't want to give him too high of a dose of pain meds all the time. Soreness was a part of recovery he supposed but he could barely move and he also couldn't sleep like that. So he was just in a constant state of exhaustion, feeling like a bus ran him over. He was counting seconds at this point - visiting hours just started and he couldn't wait for his boyfriend to come already.

Before that, though, someone else showed up.

"Sebastian...oh dear, I finally found your room, this place is a whole big maze, gosh..."

It was the most pleasant surprise. Sebastian's eyes lit up, he recognized her by the voice alone and his lips curved up into a smile. "Grandma-...grandma, you're here?"

"How could I not visit my favourite grandson", she grinned and she came to a halt right next to his bed as she gently took his hand, squeezed it. "When you're not able to visit me, I have to visit you", she smiled, big round glasses on her nose - Grandma Lillian, Sebastian's mother's mother. That was a big surprise, to say the least - they didn't see each other for well over a year, maybe called each other a handful of times. Usually they celebrated Christmas together with the whole family. But that didn't happen last Christmas - and now it was already mid of September.

"How are you? Are you better already, I thought you had such problems with your lungs?", Sebastian asked right away, his eyes big as he looked at her in awe - she merely chuckled at that question. She didn't look the youngest on her own anymore, her grey hair put up in a simple updo - she had a cane with her too, just in case.

"I should be asking you, my darling. Your mother told me just the other day, well-...she told me all about your illness. And that you had surgery. I didn't think I would get to see you in such hospital bed before me", she sighed, the look on her face sad and worried - it pained Sebastian, to say the least. "I thought about calling you but I needed to see you in person. It's been such a long time. How are you?"

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[lxndonorris]

much needed break - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Angst/Fluff distracting Lando from social media word count: 1700+

The last rays of sunlight are casting a warm, golden glow through the wide windows of Lando's living room, illuminating the chic but comfortable space that has become almost as much a home for you as it is for him. 

Monaco, with its sparkling blue waters and luxurious life, is a world apart from the intensity of the F1 circuits, yet it can't completely chase away the shadows left by last weekend's race in Brazil.

You step into the living room, spotting him immediately, slouched on the sofa, a hoodie pulled up over his messy curls, sweatpants, and socks, completing his relaxed look. 

His attention is absorbed by the screen of his phone, his face half-lit by its soft glow, and even from across the room, you can see the slight frown creasing his brows. 

He looks up briefly as you approach, giving you a small, half-hearted smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. There is a heaviness hanging in the room, one you know all too well.

Without a word, you sit down beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body but not so close as to intrude. You gently lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, just watching him, letting him feel your presence.

"What are you up to?" You ask, keeping your voice soft and casual, as though you are just enjoying a quiet moment together.

"Oh, nothing," he replies quickly, glancing away. But his voice holds a strain, and his fingers are white-knuckled around the phone. 

He tries to shift his body slightly, as if to hide the screen from your view, but you catch a glimpse of the comments he is scrolling through.

You know exactly what he is doing. It is always the same pattern when things don't go well on track—no matter how many times you tell him not to, he'll always go looking for those negative comments, taking in every word, every hurtful critique.

You feel a pang in your chest seeing how hard he takes it, how deeply he allows it to affect him.

Without a second thought, you reach over and gently snatch the phone from his hands. 

Lando lets out a protest, reaching for it instinctively, but you hold it out of reach, flashing him a playful, determined look.

"Lando," you say softly, yet firmly, "you shouldn't read those comments. You know it never does any good."

He huffs, crossing his arms and letting out a reluctant sigh.

"It's not that bad," he mumbles, his gaze dropping to his lap. But the crack in his voice, the way he avoids meeting your eyes, tells you otherwise.

It hurts to see him like this, this strong, talented person you know feeling so vulnerable.

You lock his phone without another glance at the screen and slip it into your pocket, feeling him deflate beside you, as if he'd just relinquished some hidden weight he had been carrying.

"You're right," he admits quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "But I just... I can't help it sometimes."

You open your arms, inviting him in, and for a moment, he hesitates. But then, his defenses fall, and he leans into you, letting you hold him close.

He wraps his arms around you, his hands gently resting against your back, and you can feel the tension slowly melting from his body.

"It's okay," you whisper, rubbing his back gently, your fingers tracing soothing circles. "You're more than what those people online think. You've done so well this season, and no matter the outcome isn't going to change that."

He sighs, the sound almost lost in the space between you.

"I know, I just... I don't want to let anyone down."

Your heart clenches at his words.

Lando always holds himself to such high standards, always worried about letting down his team, his fans, even himself. You can tell the weight of it is heavy on his shoulders.

You slide your hands underneath his hoodie, feeling his warmth against your cold fingertips. He lets out a surprised laugh at the sudden chill, wiggling away slightly but not enough to break the embrace.

You chuckle, trailing your hands along his chest and feeling him relax again, his breathing slowing as he allows himself to let go. His head rests against your shoulder, and you feel his body sink into yours, surrendering to the comfort and warmth you share.

"You're doing so well, Lando," you murmur, your fingers tracing the lines of his back, the tension melting away under your touch. "I'm so proud of you, and I don't think anything less of you because of one bad race."

He nods slowly, his curls brushing your cheek as he settles deeper into your arms.

"I guess... I guess it's just hard sometimes to ignore it all. I feel like everyone's watching, and every mistake is magnified." His voice is soft, laced with vulnerability.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead, your hand moving up to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint shadow of a stubble.

"But you don't have to carry that alone. I'm here, and I see you for who you are—not for your results on track. And I know so many people who feel the same."

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers, his voice breaking slightly.

"You don't have to worry about that," you say with a smile, your fingers tracing soft patterns along his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere."

He shifts closer, his head coming to rest against your chest as he closes his eyes, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. You feel his heartbeat slow, his breathing deepen as he begins to let go of worries that have been plaguing him.

For a while, you just lay there, wrapped up in each other, letting the quiet settle around you. Your fingers continue their gentle journey, stroking his hair, tracing the line of his cheekbone, his lips. He is lost in thought, you can tell, but there is a peace in his expression now, a softening of the lines of stress and worry.

"You know," you murmur after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've watched you grow so much this season. You've overcome so many challenges, and that's what really matters."

Lando nods, his eyes still closed, his breathing deep and even.

"I guess I just want to make everyone proud. Make you proud."

You lean down, your lips brushing softly against his. 

"I am already proud of you," you whisper. "Not just for what you do on track, but for who you are—your determination, your kindness, your resilience, your humor. That's what makes you so amazing."

His arms tighten around you, a silent acknowledgement, a thank you that doesn't need words. You feel his fingers trace slow, gentle lines along your back, his hand brushing against your waist, grounding himself in your connection.

It is in these moments that you see the man behind the racer, the vulnerability he so rarely shows to the world. And you love him all the more for it.

You stay there, wrapped in each other's arms as the evening light softens, your breaths syncing in a gentle rhythm. He closes his eyes, his head nestled against you, and you feel his worries fading, replaced by a peace you know he finds only with you. 

And you realize that, as much as he thinks he needs you, you need him just as much.

Lando shifts, settling himself more comfortably, his head resting gently on your lap. A soft hum escapes his lips, a sound of pure contentment that makes your heart swell.

You can tell he is finally starting to unwind, to let go of the weight he'd been carrying since the race. His eyes are closed, and a faint smile curves at the edges of his lips, softening his whole expression.

You let your hand slip under his hoodie once again, your fingertips brushing along his warm skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each relaxed breath. 

He shivers slightly at your touch, but it isn't from the cold this time—it is from the warmth and comfort you share in this moment together.

Lando's smile grows as he adjusts, placing one of his hands on his thigh, his fingers curling slightly as if to hold onto this feeling. His other hand rests just beside yours on his stomach, and you feel his fingers twitch, brushing against yours.

Gently, you slide your hand further under his hoodie, fingers tracing small, soft circles across his skin, feeling the warmth radiate from him.

He opens his eyes briefly, looking up at you with a softness and gratitude that makes your breath hitch. Then he closes them again, a peaceful smile gracing his face as he settles deeper into your lap, his body completely at ease. 

The quiet hum of his voice, his gentle breathing, the closeness you share—all of it feels so incredibly precious.

"You know," he murmurs after a while, his voice a lazy drawl, "I could get used to this."

You chuckle, running your hand slowly across his stomach, feeling the warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breaths beneath your touch.

"Oh yeah?" You tease, your fingers brushing just under his ribcage. "Then you should let yourself rest more often."

He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating against your hand.

"Maybe I will, if I have you around," he replies, his voice soft and warm.

He opens his eyes again, looking up at you with that familiar twinkle, the one that tells you he is feeling more himself again.

You feel his fingers drift up, tracing light patterns along your wrist. His touch is warm and grounding. 

Leaning down, you brush a kiss against his forehead, feeling him smile beneath the touch.

His head nestles in your lap, the weight of him grounding you just as much as you ground him. In this moment, everything else—races, comments, expectations—fades away.

All that matters is the two of you, right there, sharing this moment of quiet, unspoken love.

[aychama]

L: I told you to leave me alone

R: I know Sir, but I'm your advisor and I (unfortunately) have to supervise you too.

Raymond sighed as he read the papers in his hands while following Leshy.

L: Do you think I need your supervision? I was doing just fine before you arrived. I'll continue to do so. Leave

R: I can't. We still need to go over a lot of things, we're far behind schedule to discuss real matters which is urgent, I need you to sign the agreement of imported goods from Anchor Deep and the people in the neglected villages are revo-

L: Fine! How many!?

R: Pardon?

L: How many papers, Raymond?

Leshy turned to him with a momentarily anger. To him, Raymond was simply, yapping.

R: Uh, about... 1, 2, 3...

He began counting, sounds of the paper coming to Leshy's ear.

R: 86 papers, sir.

L: Well good luck to you with that. Just copy my signature.

R: Wait, me? Sir I can't just decide on the matters of the whole kingdom!

L: Aren't you my "advisor"? That's your thing, to decide.

R: Yes, I give advice! I don't rule over a kingdom!

L: Too bad so damn sad, I don't feel like listening you talk about dumb problems I won't be paying attention to anyway.

Leshy chuckled a bit and walked towards his work room. Raymond followed right behind, a bit panicked by the king's nonchalant decision. Leshy closed the door behind him, Raymond nearly making it inside.

R: You can't just ignore it! I promise it won't take long... Don't you care about your people? They are suffering! They are doing their best but barely surviving with what you let them have! Not only that, you've added taxes when I was gone!

L: My people are doing fine. You're worrying too much for something so lame, Ray. If I'm really that shitty of a king, go on. Fill my "so important" papers. And I thought you were smart enough to think that.

Raymond rubbed his temples after setting the papers aside. He took a deep breath. Leshy just sat one of the comfortable chairs and leaned back.

R: (God, I prefer hell over trying to convince this man child to do anything) It won't be long before everything breaks down to chaos if you continue to neglect your duties, sir.

L: ...

R: Maybe the other crowns were right about you after all...

Leshy immediately got up and turned towards Raymond.

L: What did those old bastards say about me?

R: Just the usual sir.

He smiled. Good thing Leshy was, well, blind.

R: That you were too young and naive to understand how a kingdom works. The red crown even said he was surprised that you haven't got hunted by your people.

L: That... Grim faced cat! You know what!? I rule my kingdom just fine! I'm the best king out there! They wish they were me! I can rule their kingdoms along with mine if I wanted!

R: Yes sir. You could...

L: Read me the damn papers Raymond! I'm gonna finish these papers faster than any of those living corpses!

R: (Works every time)

___________________________

It was night time when they were able to finish all those papers. Raymond had lit a candle long time ago to read better and Leshy seemed to listen.

R: This is the last paper... It's, it's over

L: Finally, for fuck's sake...

The worm yawned and leaned back. Raymond put the papers in order and set aside, before leaning back like his King.

R: Sir your profanity.

L: Ray I'm too tired to care.

R: You're right... I should be too tired to ask.

L: What's the time?

R: The moon is up by a hand. It's too late.

L: You don't say.

The advisor yawned and drank a glass of water. The King on the other hand rubbed where his eyes should be. It was rare but, sometimes, his eyes would bleed again, his wounds so easy to tear open. The cat panicked at the sight, immediately his tiredness vanishing by worry that overtook.

R: You're bleeding!

L: Don't-

Leshy hissed at him when Raymond tried to touch his face so he backed away. Raymond looked at the blood with sadness for his King.

R: Does it... Does it still hurt? Does it hurt bad?

He asked with a shakey voice as he reached for Leshy's face again. Surprisingly, the short tempered king didn't pull back the second time. He leaned to the touch, to the feeling. Raymond's palm got bloodied as he wiped it.

L:Not anymore. Not like the way it used to...

R: It's good... I think. Is it just pitch black..?

L: People assume so. But no. My vision is my thoughts. I can see just, not in the way you'd expect

R: How so? How can you just- See?

The King chuckled at the advisor's weirded out question.

L: I already know what something looks like. I know colors, I know shapes, I know sounds, the materials, the feelings. And, if you know it like I do, it feels like your whole imagination is your sight.

R: That's... Not as bad as I thought

L: You think about going blind?

R: No, heh, of course not... I think about, how hard it must be for you.

L: You think about me? Now that just makes me shy~

R: My King-

Raymond gave a tired and short giggle as he blushed. Even though he hated his job, he didn't hate the worm necessarily.

L: What? Can I not be curious about why you think about me Ray?

R: With all due respect, that's not the point, sir. I work for you, it's natural that I worry for the one I'm working so close with.

L: And somehow I'm someone you must worry for? The levels you bring me down to.

R: You make it sound like everything is just fine! Is there really nothing bad about being blind?

L: There are bad sides of it of course

R: Like what?

Leshy smiled, putting his hands on top of Raymond's.

L: Knowing I'll never actually see you

AU8WUW8UQOAPAAJUDJDAAAAAAAASAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HELLO???? THIS IS SO GOOD?!?!?!?!?! How dare you send me this awsome gift as an anon 😭😭😭 Thank you so much omg I didnt think such a simple drawing would inspire someone to write something like this!

THANK YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[cheolism]

classroom etiquette 

✰ — kim hongjoong x f!reader ✷ — summary: you and kim hongjoong are: members of the university english department; writing rivals; great enemies. and you meet in an abandoned classroom. ✰ — wc is approx. 2.5k ✷ — genre: rivals and lovers, smut ✰ — warnings: dom!hongjoong x sub!reader. degradation (brat, slut) and praise kinks, pet names (princess, good girl, etc.). slight exhibitionism. oral (m! receiving) and cum swallowing. dumbification of reader. ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: for @lovetaroandtaemin !! requested as part of my follower celebration! i hope this is what u wanted! ty for requesting <3 i can't wait to get to know you more <33

in short, yet again mr. kim has proved himself incapable of writing anything where a character has depth. he is so preoccupied with creating a story filled with dragons and intricate government systems that his characters fall remarkably behind. there is no substance to what he writes. he writes purely as an act of god: to create a world that inspires awe. he does not write for the art of it; for the humanity of it.

you grin to yourself, triumphant, as you publish the review to the lit magazine site. kim hongjoong's short story was littered with positive reviews, readers and fellow authors alike praising his elaborate world-building.

they weren't wrong to praise his world-building. you may not like the man and firmly believe he is a stain upon the university's english department, but you wouldn't lie and say he half-assed his world-building.

but, like you said: where he excelled in world-building building he failed in character-building.

each main character was like the next: brave and with a firm moral compass, a yearning to do the right thing. there was no depth. they felt as artificial as his nose ring, which you saw him pull off one time.

and yet, as you navigate to the home page of the literary magazine and look upon the monthly winners, as voted upon by fellow authors and readers, people just eat it up. they eager await everything kim hongjoong puts out.

as evidenced by the shining number one next to his story link.

with yours immediately beneath it.

well, you think to yourself, you did win last month.

still, you feel slighted; wronged. this month's work had been a masterpiece, in your opinion. a careful character study of a widow reminiscing of her life as she looks out the window, watching the sun rise and set and relating it to her life.

it was thoughtful. more importantly, it was human. it was everything kim hongjoong's story lacked.

your laptop chimes, breaking the near-silence of the lounge. you hurry to silence it, finger jamming on the mute button on your keyboard.

you got a new review on your story.

you click on it.

kim hongjoong (@no1likeme): another perfectly boring character study of someone the audience has no care for. every single word of this story reads as if someone was watching paint dry. no action. no plot. it's a poor imitation of a chekhov story, and a million times more boring. it's an insult to the genre. if i wanted to contemplate the meaning of life, i'd take a philosophy class. i wouldn't spend my precious time writing something as cheesy and trashy as this.

immediately, and predictably, you feel your temper rise.

who was he, you think, closing the screen of your laptop with a sharp movement, to judge your story?

just because he needed to fill his stories to the brim with gunfights and far-away dystopias didn't mean everyone else in the world was ignorant of the wisdom and humanity of character studies.

you shove your laptop into your bag, zipping it up angrily.

every story you put out, kim hongjoong leaves a comment on. it's like he's obsessed with you.

(nothing is to be said about the fact you wait for the moment he uploads a story to read it. you shimmer in your thoughts for a week, rereading and deciding the perfect way to weave your thoughts over his latest work. you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a review immediately; wouldn't let him know that you were so eager to read what trash he put out.)

you stepped from the lounge, making your way down the metal staircase.

your work, you knew, was perfect. it was intricate and prompted thought.

just because he didn't understand --

you walked down two flights before stepping off of the staircase. hefting your backpack back onto your shoulder, from where it had been slipping, you make your way down the hall. the english building is nearly abandoned at this hour, a few students littering the hallways, cramming in assignments before they inevitably take the last bus back to their cramped apartment.

you go to the very last classroom on the third floor.

you switch on the lights for the front of the room, the section that is impossible to see by someone walking by and giving a cursory look through the door window.

you settle at the front of the room. the chairs are all on wheels for safety, and it slides gently as you recline into it. you pull out your laptop and boot it back up. kim hongjoong's review tauntingly stares at you.

you screenshot it and then add it to a folder labeled kim hongjoong reviews. there's 30 other reviews within, one for each story you've uploaded to the university literary magazine.

and kim hongjoong had to comment on each one of them.

he's obsessed.

the door to the classroom opens.

in steps kim hongjoong.

he is, naturally, fashionably dressed. black jeans and a black leather jacket, a striped cardigan udnerneath. hongjoong's wearing those stupid black-framed glasses of his, the ones that only seem to highlight the dark arches of his brows and show off his undercut. he's wearing his silver rings, of course, and when he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his black hair, you catch a glimpse of a brown leather watch.

hongjoong looks like he's walked out of a freshman student's fantasy concerning their literary teaching assistant.

you scoff at him. "if you gave your writing half as much attention as you did your clothes, you'd finally have something worth reading."

hongjoong scowls at you, eyes severe. "you really think you know everything, don't you?"

you smirk at him, looking back at your computer. hongjoong comes to the front of the room. he sets his leather back on the ground next to the leg of the table, beginning to pull at the sleeves of his leather jacket.

"leave it on," you demand.

he rolls his eyes. hongjoong continues to take off the leather jacket. beneath it is his striped cardigan, and it's horribly contrasting the undercut and overall sleek look he was going for.

you click your tongue. "shame. i would've said you looked hot had you left it on."

"you're such a fucking brat," hongjoong admonishes. he pulls at the armrests of the chair. it rolls easily in his grasp, and he twists it so you're craning your neck to look up at him.

hongjoong exudes power like this. staring down at you, eyes dark and serious. he's all dominance and imposing, and you can feel something twisting in your gut.

"am i?" you say, eyes glancing down at his mouth.

"you're fucking ridiculous," hongjoong scoffs. then he's swooping down and mashing his mouth against yours.

his hand finds the back of your neck, holding you firm. hongjoong's mouth is demanding, pressing against yours relentlessly, laying claim. he shoves his tongue in, dominant and not wasting a single moment.

hongjoong kisses passionately; he kisses like he's pressing forth all his anger and frustration with you.

you pull back, lips making a soft smacking noise as you separate. hongjoong's mouth is wet with spit from having stuck his tongue in your mouth, and you know your mouth isn't much better.

"seriously," you say, "you write like you're trying to fuck tolkien."

hongjoong gapes at you. and then, "get on your fucking knees, you chekhov-wannabe."

you pout for a moment, putting up a front.

then his hand is slipping up from your neck and into your hair. he guides you onto the floor, taking your spot on the chair.

the floor is cold as you kneel on it, the temperature seeping through the fabric of your jeans. you pay it no mind. instead you watch as hongjoong undoes his belt with a single hand, pushing down at his pants.

"you act like a little know-it-all," hongjoong murmurs. he pushes his jeans down to his ankles, sitting at the edge of the chair. his underwear, naturally, matches the rest of his outfit, black and tight around him.

"well," you say, looking at his bulge. you know hongjoong isn't particularly big, but you know how he fits so perfectly in your mouth. you've gotten wet more than a few times reading one of his stories, imagining him sitting down and writing, dick stuffed in your mouth. "i do know everything."

hongjoong takes out his dick. it's just — perfect. not too thick but still enough to stretch out your pussy deliciously, not too long to where it triggered your gag reflux when he kept it resting in your mouth. it isn't the prettiest dick you've sucked, but it's absolutely the best dick. it curves naturally towards him, ensuring he presses against your g-spot whenever he sticks it in your pussy.

it's just —

you never thought yourself particularly wanton; particularly vulgar or sexual. but fuck, hongjoong's dick —

he runs his hand over his dick. it's flushed from erection, and you watch, transfixed, as he delicately fingers his head and rubs his thumb against the slit, the angle of his hand showing off the watch on his wrist.

"what a little slut," hongjoong laughs. "running your mouth until you get a dick in your face. is that how i gotta shut you up? just get my dick out?"

you flick your eyes up at him. you can feel blood flush to your cheeks. it always feels demeaning to be on your knees in front of hongjoong, letting him bully you.

but you can't deny how drenched his bullying makes your cunt; how it always makes your pussy throb, desperate for him. and you just fucking love playing into it, especially when you know how fucking hard it makes him.

hongjoong slides his fist down his dick, settling it around the root of it. he presses his thumb against the head, pulling back his foreskin. "well? come on, princess. wanted a dick in your mouth so bad, didn't you?"

horribly obedient, you shuffle forward. you place your hands on his knees. hongjoong chuckles, raising his brows over the rim of his glasses. "should make you do it without your hands."

you pout up at him. "joong. . ."

"don't worry princess," he says. "not this time. but —"

you whine.

"don't be a baby," hongjoong admonishes you, though he's lost that severe look. instead he's grinning, pleased with how cock-stupid you are. "i know you just run your mouth and act out because you want my cock in your cunt. say it, baby. say you're sorry for acting out; that you want my dick."

you whine again, nails gently scraping against his thighs. it's always embarrassing how he makes you say such things. it's mortifying how they make your panties stick to your cunt with juices.

"what was it you said? 'no substance to what he writes?'"

"'m sorry," you whimper out. you settle, resting your chin on his knee. you peer up at him, pushing stray strands of hair from your face. "just wanted you, joong."

hongjoong hums, his hand once again delicately moving up his dick. "pretty shitty apology. but i guess it'll do for now."

hongjoong spread out his knees, tilting his dick towards you.

eagerly, like a puppy given the signal to pursue a treat, you lurch forward for his cock.

hongjoong held his dick still for you to press your lips to the tip. immediately you are met with the bitter taste of his precum, the taste of his skin. you slowly, gently, began to lower your mouth around the head of his dick.

"that's a good girl," hongjoong hisses out, hips lightly canting into your mouth. "such a good girl."

you can't help but preen under his praise. this part, where he rambles about how good you are, how you're a princess, you adore too. you love how the words make you heart and pussy flutter, how they smooth the sharp sting of his bullying tongue.

hongjoong glides his dick into your mouth slowly. he savors in the sweet glide of it, in his dick sliding along your tongue, your spit coating it.

you love the weight of his cock in your mouth. whenever his dick is in your mouth you can feel it dull down the sharp edges of your mind. your being becomes centered around his dick, how it feels against your tongue, how little pearls of precum mixes with your spit.

you're usually not crude, but fuck if hongjoong's dick in your mouth isn't the best part of your week.

hongjoong doesn't make you to take his entire dick. he isn't in a particularly mean mood, then. instead he slides his dick until the tip of it is on the back of your tongue, knowing just how much of it you can take after who knows how many sessions you've spent with his dick in your mouth.

"swallow," he commands. you swallow, mouth constricting around his cock. "good girl. good, princess."

one of his hands went to your hair. he guided your head back, his dick sliding around your tongue. drool fell from your mouth as hongjoong withdrew his dick, and you couldn't help but look down and watch his dick, how your spit glistens along his dick.

"good," he says, and then he's fucking back into your mouth.

hongjoong fucks your mouth slowly, his hips gently rolling into your mouth. he fucks your mouth like he's making love to it. endless praise pours from his mouth. "perfect," he sighs, "perfect fucking slutty little princess.

"gonna swallow?" he slows his thrusts even more, languid, biting down on his lip. his glasses have slid down his nose, bangs in his eyes. "gonna swallow my cum, princess?"

you nod, and he groans.

you shift forward. you move your hands up his thighs and slide them around the base of his dick, rising to your knees. hongjoong moves both his hands to your hair, fingernails scraping against your scalp.

you place your lips against the tip of his dick. slowly you take it back into your mouth. hongjoong's grip on your hair tightens as you take his dick further and further into your mouth. you go until the tip of it is hitting the back of your mouth, and then you still.

hongjoong's dick twitches in your mouth.

the need to please him endures, and so you begin fucking his dick with your mouth. you pull off of his dick until it's just your lips wrapped around his tip. then back down to the tip you go, swallowing once your lips are snug around his base. you begin to shallowly bob around his dick, hongjoong's pants, quiet and sweet, coupled with the slick sounds of your mouth around his dick.

when he cums, you can't help but choke. this part of giving head always catches you off guard, no matter how many times you swallow around his dick. you sputter around his cock, only pulling off once you begin to cough.

"good," he murmurs, voice tight. he cradles your face, his hand going to wipe at the cum that splattered on your chin. "good girl."

[actuallysaiyan]

Learning To Love(Sugar Daddy!Toshinori Yagi/All Might x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, love hotel, sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, love confessions, water jet masturbation, oral sex(male receiving) word count: 3.3k!!!! pairings: Sugar Daddy!Toshinori Yagi/All Might x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader summary: you've been seeing each other for a while now and while it's supposed to be casual, it becomes everything far from casual

a/n: special thanks to @mightytato. for helping to keep me motivated and inspired!!!!!!!

dividers: @adornedwithlight.

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld

It wasn’t what he wanted. It was actually really far from what he was wanting. A love hotel wasn’t the place to bring someone special to, but damn…was he getting ahead of himself again? This is just another one of your quick dates. That’s all it is, nothing more. He has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t anything official.

You two started seeing each other about nine months ago. You met through some acquaintances that figured you’d be a good match. Toshinori was looking for someone to keep him company, and you were looking for someone to take care of you financially. And when you two finally were introduced, it was instantaneous how you two clicked.

Looking back on it, Toshinori realizes how quickly he fell for you. He knows this isn’t that kind of relationship, but he can’t help but fantasize about how good it would be to be yours for good. How proud he would be to be your lover and to be the one you call yours. He dreams about it more often than he’d like to admit.

“Toshi!” He hears your beautiful voice call out. “Hey!”

When he turns to look at you, his breath hitches in his throat. You’re wearing such a cute outfit today; then again, you always wear such a cute outfit when you’re with him. His heart flutters in his chest when you jump up and wrap your arms around him.

“Missed you so much, daddy.” You coo softly before you give him a kiss.

“Missed you too, sweetness. I’m glad you’re here.”

This is when he begins to blush. He almost forgot about his plans. A friend had mentioned this place to him and talked up about how fun it was to stay with someone intimate. The way they described the intimacy had been quite enticing to him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tenderly caressing his cheek.

He nearly coughs up blood when you ask this. “Well…uhm…”

His bangs fall down in front of his eyes and he’s trying to think of the right words to use. All he thinks to do is to pull the keycard out of his pocket and show it to you. You look at the cute design on the card and then you look at the big hotel across the street.

“I can’t imagine that’s for this hotel,” you say as you point at it.

Toshi shakes his head, “N-no…”

You look at the keycard once more and then a blush creeps up on your cheeks. Your stomach does a little flip when you start putting the pieces together. It wouldn’t be the first time Toshinori brings you to a hotel, but you two have never stayed in a love hotel.

“Someone recommended it to me,” he begins to explain. “They said it was a fun experience! This one has a maid cafe in it and there’s a hot tub with jets in the room and I think there’s even a pole for…”

You giggle softly, “what are we waiting for? Sounds like a fun night!”

You grab his hand and pull him along down the street. Toshi’s heart races at the excitement. Wouldn’t you prefer something more classy? Then again, you’ve always been happy with the bare minimum. He loves to spoil you, there’s no doubt about it. But you’ve always been so happy with anything he buys or gives you.

Come to think about it, you seem the happiest when he takes time to spend with you…

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you two stop in front of this neon-lit hotel. It looks so cute, but really you two know what’s waiting for you inside. He opens the door for you and then you both walk in. There’s nobody at the front desk, but there are a few touchscreens that showcase the rooms available.

“I’ve already booked our room for all night,” Toshi whispers in your ear.

His hand envelopes yours as he guides you towards the elevators. There’s a cute song playing as you two ride up to the top floor. You’re feeling giddy with delight as you get closer and closer. Then the elevator stops and you two step out into a dimly lit hallway.

The carpets are meticulously cleaned from the looks of it, despite the nature of the business. There’s fancy look art hung up on the walls. And then you stop in front of a mahogany door, and Toshi slides the keycard through the machine. He opens up the door and you get to take a look inside.

You’re wowed by the sheer size of the place. It’s a lot bigger than you were anticipating. It’s a plush carpet at your feet, in a sort of rose color. Then your eyes trail off to see the large, king-sized bed with the red satin sheets and heart-shaped throw pillows in the middle. Toshi nudges you gently and points at the pole on the raised platform part of the room.

“That’s the uh…”

You giggle, “Oh you want me to put on a show for you then?”

Once again, he’s hiding his face behind his bangs. How you could so easily rile him up and fluster him…

Then he takes your hand and guides you to the big bathroom. It’s dimly lit in here too, with a few ambient lights along the wall. The big hot tub sits in the corner of the room, looking ever so inviting. It’s so large and looks like it could fit way more than just two people.

“Looks like fun,” he comments as he comes behind you. Then his big hands begin to massage your shoulders. You begin to lean back against him.

“Mhm, I was just thinking that. I bet you could use a nice bath after the hard work week you’ve had.”

It was true, he had worked very hard this week. He missed you a lot more than usual, considering he hadn’t had the chance to visit you throughout the week. Toshinori had every intention of worshiping you and spending as much time as he could to pleasure you.

He leans in to press little kisses to your neck, relishing in the sweet floral scent of your perfume. You always smelled so delectable. Everything about you made his knees weak and his mouth water. Then you turn around and you pull him in for a very long kiss.

“I should be spoiling you,” you say with a soft bat of your long eyelashes. “You deserve it for being so good to me.”

He gasps when you get on your knees in front of him. Your hands are on his belt before he can protest. You’re so damn sweet to him, it makes him twitch in his pants. His eyes are full of lust as he watches you undress him from the waist down.

“I wanted to spoil you, baby girl.” He grunts as you pull his pants down. “It’s not fair…”

You giggle as you begin palming him through his boxers, “Don’t worry, daddy. You’ll get your chance later.”

He closes his eyes as you pull down his boxers. His cock bobs as it’s pulled from the cotton confines of his underwear. You notice how he’s already leaking lots of precum.

“Poor daddy, so pent up.” You say in such a saccharine tone. It makes his heart melt and his cock twitch.

Before he can say anything, you’re wrapping your plump lips around the tip of his cock. Toshi gasps at the wet heat enveloping him, and his hand comes down to tangle his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, instead he’s more than content to have you set the pace. Slowly, you sink down further until you begin to choke.

“Easy, baby girl. Take your time,” he caresses your cheek, which makes your heart race.

You shouldn’t be having these feelings for him. You’ve been grateful not to see him all week because of one reason. You realized you were growing too comfortable with him. He plagues your thoughts whenever he’s not around. You’ve even begun to dream about him, which has never happened with any of your other sugar daddies.

Toshinori was becoming the real thing before you could put a stop to it.

The more you take him into your mouth, the more you grow aroused. When you look up at him and see just how turned on he is, you know you’re almost done for. You couldn’t keep holding all these feelings back. You eagerly take him all the way into your mouth, relaxing your throat and breathing out your nose.

“F-fuck sweetheart,” Toshinori groans. “H-how am I supposed to last like this?”

You pull off of him with a pop, stroking him gently before you get back to your feet. What really turns you on is when Toshinori kisses you deeply despite the fact that you just had his cock in your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he begins to undress you.

Slowly, the two of you make it to the hot tub. He turns on the water before turning his attention back to you. He begins to kiss you once more, but then as he takes off more of your clothing, the lower his kisses go.

Toshinori moans softly against your skin when your fingernails rake against his scalp. He bends down to take off your bottom and your shoes. Then he slowly peels off your underwear. The look he gives you when he’s got you fully nude is nothing short of incredibly lewd.

“You are my angel,” he mumbles before leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. “Such a pretty angel for daddy.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing when he says these filthy words. Not that Toshinori never says anything dirty, but it always sounds so damn good when it comes from his lips. Then he reaches behind you to turn on the jets. The tub is nearly full and you’re really excited to see what you’ll get up to.

“Ready for a soak, honey?” He asks, kissing your lips once more.

You nod your head, “Yeah.”

He turns off the water, then helps you into the warm and relaxing water. The jets feel so good on your muscles. Toshinori lets out a happy and relaxed sigh when he feels the jets on his worn out body. He’s beginning to think about getting one of these installed in his home.

Then his mind begins to wander to thoughts of you being there with him. Bath nights with you would be so heavenly. He would have a hard time not asking you to accompany him in the bath every night if you lived with him…

“Lost in thought, handsome?” you ask as you come closer to begin rubbing his chest.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice and your sweet touch. “Oh, yeah sorry about that.”

He then leans in close, cupping your cheeks. His forehead leans against yours in a way that makes your whole body heat up. You let your eyes close as his thumbs stroke your cheeks so sweetly.

“I should be here in the moment with you,” he whispers before he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

You wrap your arms around him, kissing him back with equal passion. It takes little time for him to pull you onto his lap. You squeal softly, making him chuckle at your cute reaction. Then he’s back to kissing you, pushing his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours.

His cock begins to press up against your ass, and you reach down between you both and you guide him to your hole. He looks at you curiously, wondering if you’re really going for it without the proper prep.

“No,” he whispers. “Allow me.”

Then he turns you around in his lap, pushing your back to his chest. In this position, one of the jets is beginning to hit your clit. You gasp at the sudden stimulation. Toshinori smirks before he spreads you open to get that perfect stream against your clit.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbles against your skin before nipping at your neck. “You almost foiled my plans. Don’t be a bad girl for daddy.”

You can barely respond. With the rushing stream of water against your clit, you feel like you’re going to cum so fast. Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Toshinori has in mind for you. You tremble and shake with every second it hits you right where you need it to.

“D-daddy, I’m…”

Before you have a chance to finish your sentence, Toshinori prods your little hole with his cock. You close your eyes and cry out as the growing pleasure becomes almost too much. He slowly helps you sink down on his cock and the moment the tip hits your sweet spot, you begin to cum.

His grip on you tightens and he’s having to control his breathing not to spill inside of you immediately. The way your little walls contract around him and the soft cries of your voice are enough to send him right to heaven. Toshinori bites down on your shoulder to keep himself calm.

“S’okay,” you moan. “S’okay if you cum quickly.”

He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but he’s happy that you’re not mad for the sudden need to blow his load. It’s been a long week and you just feel so good. He begins pumping up into your tight, wet heat. You take him so good, fitting so snugly around his big dick. Toshinori shudders when he feels his balls drawing up.

“C-can’t hold back,”

With a loud grunt, he’s painting your insides white. His hands are tight on your body to keep you pushed down on his cock, prolonging the pleasure for him. Then he slowly begins to pull you off, setting you down next to him in the warm water. Toshinori closes his eyes as he catches his breath.

Then comes your soft and sweet touch again. You brush some hair out of his face, then you kiss his cheek. You’re in your own daze, wondering how you could ever have a better orgasm than that. And the way he so easily guided you through it and wanted it for you, it made you wonder just how long you can keep pushing these feelings down.

“Wanna check out the bed?” You ask softly, nipping at his neck.

He wraps his arm around you, “Of course. Anything for you.”

With ease, he picks you up from the bath and helps you onto the mat. Lovingly, he dries you off with one of the fluffy towels. You are beginning to wonder what his true intentions were for this little hotel trip. Then he helps you into the silky robe the hotel provided for you.

What surprises him is when you do the same for him. You even begin to apply some lotion onto his skin. Toshi blushes and tries to look away, but you won’t let him. If you were going to fall head over heels for him, then he was going to do exactly that for you. You weren’t going down alone.

He leads you back into the bedroom and gently guides you onto the bed. You let out a giggle when he gets on the bed too and crawls over to you. His lips are so soft on your body as he begins to kiss your neck, then down your chest.

“You’re obsessed with my chest,” you tease him.

He smirks up at you, “Like you’re not obsessed with mine.”

This causes you to blush. It was true, whether he was in his buff form or like this, you often took your time to press kisses and kitten licks on his chest. You even spent time kissing his scar. That had taken him a long time to show it to you, and even longer to tell you the story attached to it. Your heart clenches when you think about how much trust that must have taken for him.

“You got me there,” you whisper sweetly. “I can’t help that I really love looking at you.”

There you go, saying that damn word. Even if you didn’t say ‘I love you’, just hearing you say the word love has Toshinori’s insides in knots. He doesn’t want to hear you say that damn word, but in reality, he’d die happy if you said you loved him. He can’t hold it back now.

When he looks at you again, your eyes lock. You can see a whirlwind of emotions in those troubled eyes. Then he pulls you on top of him as he lays on his back. His hands are calloused but they feel so good on your smooth skin.

“Ride me,” he says sheepishly.

A shudder runs through you as you eagerly get into position. You begin to stroke his hardening cock. Toshinori moans and gasps as you work him so well. Then you guide him to your still dripping hole. With his cum already lubing you up, it’s not so much of a stretch this time.

His arms come up to begin holding you so close. He pulls you into his chest as you rock your hips. Something about this is much more intimate than anything you’ve ever done. You can’t help but feel a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

“Don’t want to let you go,” he chokes out. “My heart can’t take it.”

You gasp when you hear his soft words. It’s all too much. You’re crumbling as well as you continue to rock your hips. His touch is so soft on your body and the way he pulls you in for another kiss has you clenching around him.

“I promise myself I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t fall for you,” you admit. You want to look away, but he won’t let you.

“I promise myself the same thing,” he says.

There’s a look of pure pleasure on his face as you pick up your pace. He grips onto your hips, guiding you to ride him at the pace you want. He’s loving every single minute of this. Then his hands slide up your body to your breasts where he kneads them.

“You make me feel so good, you make me want to live.”

You swallow hard when he says this. “You bring happiness to my life,”

He’s having a hard time holding back once more. It’s just becoming too much. He lets one of his hands down to rub your clit, pushing you over the edge with a few more thrusts. As your walls clamp down around him, he’s grunting your name.

“I–I LOVE YOU!” He cries out as he cums hard.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to come to terms with what he’s just said. You think back on all the time you’ve spent together and it should have been even more obvious. Now, you know it’s the truth and you know you need to tell him how you feel.

As he gets his breathing under control, he’s regretting saying that right as he reached his peak. His cheeks are burning and he’s trying to get you off of him.

But then you kiss him so lovingly. Both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks. You stay on him, holding him so close to you. You know you have to confess on your part too.

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips.

Toshinori flips you both over, with him on top of you. It’s a rush of kisses and soft words from his lips. You can’t stop smiling as you begin to run your fingers through his hair. He rubs his nose against yours before kissing you once more.

“Guess we’ll have to use the pole next time, huh?” he jokes softly as he lays down next to you.

You roll over to rest your head on his chest, “It’s too bad. I was going to put on such a good show for you.”

He squeezes you tight, kissing you so sweetly. Toshinori lulls you to sleep with soft words of love. He knows he’s never letting you go now that you’re his for real. And you have no intention of letting him go either.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[suplicyy]

Happy happy birthday even though it’s in a week, talking about birthdays👀👀 how would kuroo act on reader’s birthday even though she didn’t tell anyone it was her birthday, it’s not a big deal to her like it’s just another day soo how could he find this out? love your works!!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

— Tags/Genre: Fluff | Fem!Reader

— Warnings: Unreviewed work, sorry if there are any English errors!!

For you, your birthday was a day like any other.

It's not that you didn't like it, but the truth is that you never really cared about it at all.

So that's why you never felt the need to declare it to everyone. But of course, if someone asked you about your birthday, you would tell them, but without giving it much importance.

So when Kuroo heard your friends talking about your birthday today, he would be more than shocked.

He would be perplexed, his mind swirling with thoughts.

"Why didn't she tell me about this?" "Does she hate me?" "Did something happen?" "Doesn't she trust me?"

The truth is, he would be worried about you, and would try to talk to you about it.

But not without preparing something special for you first!!

In his eyes, you are someone very important to him, so he couldn't let this special date pass, even if you didn't tell him.

So when he calls you out of the blue saying he's going to your house, you find it weird, but you don't mind so much because it's already a habit for you to go to each other's houses.

But you find it even stranger when you open the door and come across Kuroo holding a big cake with candles on top, with a big smile on his face, almost nervous.

Kuroo enters your house, walking quickly to the kitchen, placing the large cake on the counter.

And almost immediately, Kuroo approaches you, cradling you in his arms with a tight hug, while planting kisses on the top of your head.

You hug him back, giggling at the amount of affection he was giving you at the moment. "Tetsu... by chance is today some special occasion?" you say between laughs, but internally wondering why he did that.

"But of course it is!" Kuroo suddenly lets go of the hug, holding you by the shoulders, looking at you seriously. You worry, wondering what you forgot that was so important, and wondering if you hurt him in some way.

"It's your birthday!!!"

An uncomfortable silence fills the room, making Kuroo feel somehow pressured by your gaze, thinking he has offended you in some way. After processing the information you received, you let out a surprised "oh", and then laugh at your boyfriend's behavior, feeling more relieved that it wasn't something so serious.

"So that's it, for a second you scared me!" you relax your posture and rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him gently. "Why are you making such a small deal about your birthday? Do you not like him or something?" Kuroo asks curiously, as he runs his hand through your hair, twirling the silky strands around his finger.

"No, nothing like that! I just don't care much about that." you look away from him, thoughtful. "As happy as I am to complete another year of life, this is something natural for all of us, so... it is still just another day like any other."

"Heh, okay Miss 'A Day Like Any Other', still, you could have told me." he says in an ironic tone, taking his hand from your hair to lightly pinch your cheek. You squeal in surprise at Kuroo's pinch, laughing at his comment. "You never asked me, silly..."

"Well... even if you don't care much, I still want to celebrate it with you, okay?" he bows like a prince, extending his hand for you to take, making you laugh at his stupidity. Following his banter, you bow back, placing your hand on top of his.

"Maybe that's a good idea..." you say smiling at him, which Kuroo quickly reciprocates.

And soon planting a light kiss on your hand, and soon guiding you to the counter, where the birthday cake he bought for you was ready to have its candles lit, which you would blow away wishing for more moments like this with the one you love.

— A/N: I'm sorry for disappearing again!! I promise I'm aware of the requests I received and will try to do them as soon as possible!! So while I finish these pending requests (which are really a lot, believe me......💀), I will leave my requests closed until I can complete them all.🥲

[desertduality]

Trustfall

Ao3

Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3

Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.

He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.

The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.

He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.

Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.

Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.

A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.

Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.

Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.

"Stargazing?"

Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"

"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."

Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-

"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.

"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"

"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."

Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.

They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.

"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.

"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."

Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.

"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."

"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."

He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.

Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.

"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."

"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."

"They make medicine for that."

"Wh- Scar!"

Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...

"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."

"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."

"And me?"

"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."

Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.

Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.

"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"

Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.

"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."

Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.

Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.

I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.

"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"

"That's right."

They go back to bed.

[griefabyss69]

Flashpoint

Written for @steddiemicrofic! And dedicated to @swifterthings. Happy birthday Meg!!! <3 <3 <3

[ AO3 ] 'GUARD' wc: 532 | rated: M | cw: Public sex, humiliation

Steve is a sexual thrill seeker, Eddie gets off on humiliation, and they're deeply in love—a tale as old as time!

By now, Eddie thinks he should be used to the risky shit they do whenever Steve gets adventurous. Sure, maybe a handful of strangers have caught them, but nothing bad has happened; usually they just laugh or duck their head and walk faster.

Still, it's like Steve's either gotten too confident or he's looking for a bigger thrill, because today he's got Eddie bent over the hood of his car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

It's nighttime, but cars are still going by on the road and if someone turns into the lot they'll see Eddie lit up on both sides by the headlights of the Beemer.

Eddie's knees are like jello and he can't tell if it's from the humiliation, the fear of getting caught, or the insane shit Steve's doing to him, with his long fingers stroking the inside of his ass. All he can do is flatten his hands against the hood and rest his cheek on it, giving into whatever Steve decides they're doing tonight. He's pretty sure he's drooling on the metal.

His mind is just starting to slip out of hard reality and into something a little more comfortable when a car does pull into the parking lot. Steve buries his fingers as deep as they'll go and stops, leaning over him to cover him with his body.

"Hide your face," he murmurs in his ear.

"Car trouble?" a man's voice calls from where he's pulled up.

"We're okay," Steve calls back, and Eddie gives a thumbs up, hoping the nail polish will help sell their heterosexuality.

"Pretty crazy to be doing that here," the guy laughs. "But have your fun."

"We will, thanks," Steve replies, wiggling his fingers inside of Eddie, forcing a helpless shudder out of him.

The man drives off and Steve pulls back, no longer hiding him, and once again Eddie's exposed to the world. He looks back, seeing the exhilaration in Steve's face, and understands.

Steve wants to humiliate him and save him. He wants to show him off and be his body guard at the same time.

"You fucking loved that," he accuses.

"Yeah," Steve sighs, happy. "You're lucky I covered you."

Eddie images Steve openly fucking him like this in front of the stranger and shivers, feeling his dick jerk where it hangs between his thighs.

"You love me too much to do that," he says, not sure if Steve's gonna take it as a challenge or not.

"That's not it," Steve says, using his free hand to get his jeans undone and pull his dick out. "I love you too much not to share you."

Eddie groans into the puddle of drool he left on the hood. The haze from before starts to overtake him again as Steve pulls his fingers out. He hears a cap, then there's cold lube sliding from his ass crack down to his balls, making him shudder and widen his stance.

When Steve pushes his dick into him it goes easily, but it's still a big hot thing taking its claim, connecting them in a way that never fails to make Eddie's spine melt.

"I love you too," he moans.

[discordiansamba]

jin's waiting for him after work the next day.

lee hangs up his apron, says goodnight to the owner, and goes to meet her. she meets his eyes, but her expression is unreadable as she asks if she can talk to him. he takes her back to his apartment so they can have some privacy, and makes her some tea.

she asks what she should call him.

"lee," he says after a moment, "-it's still who I think of myself as."

jin hums, taking a sip of tea. lee does the same. they sit in tense, awkward silence for a long moment before jin sighs, setting her teacup down with a loud thud. she asks him if he meant what he said. that he really does love her. that it's not just... something he was manipulated into thinking he did.

lee tells her he does.

he also admits he may only love her because of who he is now. but who he is now made that choice on his own. she makes him happy, and he can't think of a life without her... but if she wants to break up with him, he'll understand. he just hopes she doesn't regret dating him entirely.

jin just huffs. she points out that when she'd first caught his interest, he'd still been zuko. she says in hindsight him being a firebender makes so much sense. she'd always wondered how he'd lit the lanterns so quickly during their first date. lee blinks, because he doesn't remember that at all-

-it must show on his face, because jin's face falls.

"you don't remember that, do you?"

"i remember our date," lee tells her, "-i just... remember the lanterns being lit when we got there."

she's silent for awhile, then asks him if he can show her. lee breathes in and breathes out, holding his hands out in front of him like lady mai had shown him. it takes a bit of concentration, but a tiny flame eventually flickers to life in his hands. jin stares at it, transfixed and-

-calls it cute. it's so tiny.

lee flushes. it's the best he can do! he doesn't remember how to firebend. up until a month ago, he really did think he was a nonbender. she looks up at him and asks him that if he knows all this, why was he still brainwashed? you something about it being possible to reverse it. lee shakes his head and says he just... hasn't made up his mind yet.

"i didn't choose to become lee," he says, "-but i'd like to be the one to choose if I stay as him or not."

jin frowns, and admits she has trouble wrapping her head around the idea of wanting to stay brainwashed. lee laughs. yeah. he can see how from the outside looking in, his situation is terrifying. he can't even fully deny that it is. but he's had a lot of happiness as lee, that he doesn't think he ever had as zuko. so they idea of going back...

...it's scary. he doesn't know zuko. lee is comfortable. familiar.

jin holds his hands. she tells him that whatever he chooses, she'll support him. her lips twitch in a playful grin as she jokes about having the chance to brag about dating a prince. she wonders if she'd look any good in fire nation red. lee laughs and tells her he's pretty sure she'd look good in anything.

lee's face falls. he tells her that if he decides to go back to being zuko, there's a good chance he might fall out of love with her in the process. she looks hurt by that- but then makes him promise that if he does, he'll at least let her break up with him. after all, how many girls from the middle ring can say with their whole chest that they broke up with a prince?

"whatever you do," jin says, "-don't let that decide for you what you want. you make me happy, lee. I want you to be happy too."

lee nods. jin asks him how long he has to make up his mind... and stares at him when he confesses he only has until the end of the week- and that he still has no idea who he wants to be.

cutting it a little close there, aren't you?

...yeah. he can't deny that.

(he ends up making dinner for himself and jin. they sit next to each other. he tells her about the beach on ember island, and she listens with wide-eyed fascination. there were no beaches in ba sing se. she makes him promise to take her there one day- and you're not getting out of it if zuko falls out of love with me.

okay, he says, we promise.)

[magnetothemagnificent]

Yesterday at shul the Rabbanit gave a really beautiful drasha about Avram's discovery of G-d, using the Midrash in Bereishit Rabba (39:1):

מָשָׁל לְאֶחָד שֶׁהָיָה עוֹבֵר מִמָּקוֹם לְמָקוֹם, וְרָאָה בִּירָה אַחַת דּוֹלֶקֶת, אָמַר תֹּאמַר שֶׁהַבִּירָה הַזּוֹ בְּלֹא מַנְהִיג, הֵצִיץ עָלָיו בַּעַל הַבִּירָה, אָמַר לוֹ אֲנִי הוּא בַּעַל הַבִּירָה

"There is a parable to one who was wandering from place to place, and saw a fortress that was lit up. He said to himself, "could you say that this fortress has no governor"? The master of the fortress peered out at him and said to him, "I am the master of the fortress"."

The traveler is a young Avram, the fortress is the world, and the master is G-d, alluding to the logical conclusion a young Avram came to that there had to be a greater power in the world.

The word "דּוֹלֶקֶת" is an interesting word, because it can be used to mean "illuminated", like a fortress all lit up against the night sky, or it can be used to mean "on fire", like a fortress burning down. And in both situations, asking where its owner is appropriate. For the former, the traveler is asking where the owner is, because someone would have had to have been the one to light all the torches and candles. For the latter, the traveler is horrified that such a monument is burning down with no one to take responsibility.

This Midrash has been the topic of numerous Torah insights, most especially from Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, synthesizing these two seemingly contrasting ideas. That we can simultaneously look at the world as though it is engulfed in flames, or as though it is twinkling in the darkness, and in both times cry out, "where is G-d?!" We can come to spirituality out of horror or out of wonder, and sometimes the same situation can evoke both reactions. There are people who are spurred into action because of a sense of wonder at the world, because they see beauty and complexity and greatness and want to find out how and why the world works the way it does. There are others who are spurred into action because they are horrified at the world seemingly collapsing all around them, because it looks like no one is there to take responsibility and that they must be the one to do it. Both mindsets are valuable.

And I'd like to add to the Rabbanit's drasha:

This parable doesn't just have to apply to only those who believe in G-d or not, or those who are religious or not. Imagine the parable ended before the owner of the fortress showed himself. How would the traveler react? If the fortress was illuminated with kindled torches and candles, would the traveler enter the fortress and make sure the lights stayed on to light the way for other weary travelers? If the fortress was on fire, would the traveler go to try and extinguish the flames? If no one is claiming responsiblity for the fortress, then we must claim responsibility, because no one else will.

[bamboobooshark]

WILL GRAHAM • ❄️

Too Cold || 820 Words || P.G. Rating || Fandom: Hannibal (2013)

Author’s Note: I have another Will Graham fic in my drafts already, but I have more motivation to write this first. I’m excited to see how this post does since I recently got into Hannibal and really wanted to write something with Will. Enjoy!

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CONTENT WARNINGS: No mentions of Will’s nightmares, Will is sensory seeking but also needs cuddles, Reader can use their arms/upper body (momentary scene), Reader moves around but with no description how exactly (no mention of legs), Reader is in a romantic relationship with Will, uses of the pet name sweetheart.

The snow usually didn’t get this thick, but today you were thankful for it. The powder blanketed the ground outside so heavily that no one could go anywhere. You and Will decided to stay in and relax together. The two of you agreed to sleep in the living room on the pull out couch while the dogs slept on the floor. The fire crackled softly and dimly lit the room that was nearly sun blocked. You had brought your own individual blankets to wrap up in because Will insisted. He hated the idea of getting you drenched in his sweat just so you could cuddle him. You thought it was a fair trade; hold him in your arms and make him feel safe in exchange for something you could easily fix in the middle of the night. You didn’t like to push him, though.

You sat yourself up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You looked around the room and counted each of the dogs to ensure they were all here. You sighed deeply while taking in your surroundings. It was peaceful—every aspect of the moment you were in. Will slept peacefully for once, the dogs breathed deeply, the fire gave off a pinch of heat, and the snow fell heavy outside with the whipping of the wind. A soft smile crawled onto your lips. You stretched, preparing to get out of bed. You looked down at your sleeping lover and pressed a kiss to his forehead. A heartbeat later, you’re slowly dragging yourself out of the pull-out couch.

Once you get yourself steady, a few of the dogs get up to come greet you. You whisper sweet greetings and wish them each a good morning. You make your way towards the kitchen to the dog treat jar. You tap the ceramic lightly so as not to disturb Will. The last few dogs who were either sleeping or chose to stay lying down came to you. You gave each of them their gingerbread treats and sent them to go lay down once more. The house continues to stay quiet as you walk into the pantry in search of something to eat. You hum softly before grabbing a pop-tart from one of the shelves.

The springs from the pull-out bed squeak awfully, causing you to emerge from the pantry as soon as you could. You spot Will looking at you with tired eyes. “What?” you ask with a soft chuckle. He looks at you, slightly annoyed. You should know by now what he wants. “Come back. I’m cold,” he said blankly. You nod your head in agreement as you head to the bed. “You’re taking an unreasonable amount of time,” he complained to you. “I’m working on it,” you say in a sing-song voice.

The second your thighs touch the edge of the bed, Will clings his arms around your waist and pulls him toward you. You squeal and smack at his arm playfully. “Will Graham! Get your hands off of me right now!” you said as you smiled so hard your cheeks started to hurt. “I never want to let you go, though. Espically not in this sort of weather,” he told you as he pulled you so his chin lined up with your shoulder. Your entire body shivered as you felt the tip of his cold nose touch your skin. He breathed you in deeply, resulting in him becoming completely still, besides his chest rising and falling. “You soothe me so well,” he praised gently. The arms that circled your waist squeezed a bit tighter as if they might loose you. You wriggled to be closer to his chest and settled once you were. His hand slowly traced circles on your stomach. It was so quiet you could hear the soft scratching of his fingers against the fabric of your shirt.

Your silent peace is soon interrupted when Will turns to lay on his back, bringing you with him. You gasp from the shock, at a complete loss for words. Will chuckles as you take a few deep breaths. “Why would you do that?” you ask in utter confusion. “I needed your weight on top of me,” he said plainly with a shrug. You sigh in slight annoyance—but you’re always glad to provide the stimulation your lover needs if it helps him stay calm and focused. He leans forward and kisses your forehead gently. “I had to return the favor,” he whispered. You chuckle once you realize what he was referring to. You kissed him back on the cheek, and he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I’m assuming that’s a request for another kiss,” he observed before returning it. You two continue kissing each other back and forth, keeping warm from the blushing and your bodies pressed together, safe from the snowy weather outside.

The universe is good to you today. It’s been good to you every day since you met Will.

[blackenedsnow]

VAMPIRE READER AND BEETLEJUICE?? 🙏🙏🦇🦇 READER NEEDS TO FEED 🙏

bite me

WARNING: Blood (vampire stuff)

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Oh my GOD, thank you for this request. You don’t know how much I LOVE the idea of a vampire reader. I could write about this dynamic forever. Seriously, this is everything. <3 I know feeding off a dead guy makes no sense, but for the sake of this one shot.. pretend it does.

SUMMARY: You’re a vampire in need of a feed, and Beetlejuice is more than happy to oblige. After all, you two are lovers, and nothing quite says romance like a late-night snack.

The place was quiet, draped in shadows, the only sound the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. A chilly draft whispered through the stone halls, carrying the faint smell of autumn leaves and earth. Normally, this was your favorite time of night—when everything fell silent, and the world seemed made just for you.

But tonight, there was a dull ache gnawing at the pit of your stomach. The familiar hunger for blood was creeping in, the kind you couldn’t ignore any longer. You usually planned ahead, so you’d have something to satisfy it before the cravings got intense. But lately, you’d been… distracted.

“Hey, bats-for-brains!” Beetlejuice's loud, nasally voice tore through the quiet like a firework. You winced, but couldn’t hide a small smile as he made his way into the grand, dimly lit parlor.

“There you are, babe!” he smirked, waggling his brows at you.

You rolled your eyes, but your voice came out softer than you intended. “Beetlejuice, I’ve told you about the shouting.”

He leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I know. It’s why I keep doing it.”

The gnawing hunger in your stomach reminded you why you’d actually let him stick around tonight. Beetlejuice may be many things—irritating, vulgar, incorrigible—but he was also… tempting. And he’d always been more than willing to let you have a little taste, no questions asked.

“Beej,” you said, voice low, a hint of a growl slipping in. His eyes sparkled at that, and he leaned back, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Well, well! You’ve got that look in your eye. What is it, time for dinner?” He grinned wide, baring his teeth as if daring you to bite. He’d always found the whole “vampire” thing fascinating; you half-wondered if it was because it reminded him of the Neitherworld.

You nodded slowly, shifting closer. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, babe, you know I never mind.” He flopped back on the velvet settee, holding his arms out wide as if he were presenting himself to royalty. “Bite me! Go on, let’s make it dramatic!”

You chuckled, sliding next to him. “You never take anything seriously, do you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if I took everything seriously, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? Besides—” he leaned in, voice dropping to a low rasp—“I know you love it.”

That was enough to make your hunger sharpen, and you leaned in, letting your fingers trace along the collar of his suit. His pulse beat under your touch, a little faster than usual. He might joke all the time, but he could never hide that shiver of excitement whenever you got close.

“Alright, hold still,” you murmured. He didn’t move, his grin widening.

You tilted his head back, baring the pale, almost lifeless skin at his neck. You bit down gently, letting your fangs sink in, and felt him stiffen, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“Holy… jeez, Y/N,” he breathed out. His voice was a mixture of awe and something softer, something almost tender.

The taste of him was familiar, a mix of the Neitherworld’s strange, earthy sweetness and just a hint of iron. It wasn’t like feeding from anyone else; it was distinctly him, and it left you feeling light-headed and exhilarated. You felt his fingers brush along your back, oddly gentle for someone like him, and you let yourself linger a moment longer than necessary.

You finally pulled back, licking the last traces of blood from your lips as he slumped back with a dreamy grin. “Now that’s what I call dinner and a show.”

You laughed, wiping your mouth as you looked at him sprawled out, clearly a little dazed. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“Who, me?” he gasped, feigning shock. “You know I only did it for you, baby. But if I happen to enjoy it… well, that’s just a bonus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He chuckled, pushing himself up from the settee and brushing off his suit, though it didn’t make much difference in its already-disheveled state. “What can I say? I’m a giver. Ain’t I the best boyfriend?”

You laughed again, unable to argue. As unconventional as he was, Beetlejuice really did make you feel alive—even in the quiet, empty spaces of your ancient home, he filled it with his energy, breaking the silence with his loud, brash love.

With him, you felt less like a creature of the night and more like someone who belonged, someone who was understood, even if that someone happened to be undead.

“Yeah,” you said softly, leaning against him, “I guess you are.”

“Aw, babe, you’re killing me!” he said with a grin, throwing an arm around you.

And for once, you didn’t mind the noise.

[moonselune]

Heyo!! How about a shadowzel and wyll x astarion playfate with their respective kids (Xan for shadowzel, Lily for Wyllstarion)

yesyesyesyesyes i actually loved writing this so much i rewrote it about five times ahaha

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowzel + Wyllstarion | Little Dragons

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The meadow outside Rivington was alive with warmth and sun, each blade of grass bending to a gentle breeze as it wove through the group, carrying laughter and the faint, high-pitched roars of Xan and Lily. They were playing nearby, crouching low and scampering through a patch of wildflowers that had become their makeshift lair. The two five-year-olds dashed around, imitating dragons with all the ferocity their small bodies could muster, “breathing fire” and casting spells of their own invention as they clawed the air and roared.

Shadowheart, lounging on the blanket beside Lae'zel, cast an amused glance at the children, their fierce game of "dragons" already filling the air with shrieks of delight. With the kids occupied, she let herself settle back, stretching her legs out as she watched Xan dash across the grass, his arms stretched out like wings, while Lily chased after him. Shadowheart gave a small, incredulous laugh as she looked around at their makeshift family.

“Hard to believe we’re here,” she mused, fingers lacing through the sun-warmed blades of grass, “keeping track of… our children. Do you ever stop and think how surreal it all is?”

Wyll, seated beside Astarion, leaned back and gave a wistful smile. He followed Shadowheart’s gaze to Lily, who was now roaring and jumping in an attempt to mimic some form of "flying," with Xan giving pointers on how to land. “Surreal? Absolutely. There are times I can’t believe it myself. I mean, Astarion teaching her archery lessons every morning so she can ‘be more dangerous than daddy’? I’d say that’s when it hit me.”

Astarion chuckled, reclining in a way that seemed to bask in Wyll’s teasing as he cast his partner a sideways smirk. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Wyll. I’d hate for Lily to go without proper survival skills. Besides,” he added with an arched eyebrow, “she’s nearly better than you at this point. Do try to keep up.”

Wyll gave him a playful shove, rolling his eyes as he muttered, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she already does…”

Lae’zel, observing the children’s play with a mixture of amusement and pride, joined in, glancing at Shadowheart. “Speaking of ‘survival skills,’ Xan’s latest obsession with mimicking my every move has resulted in… let’s say, a ‘small’ dent in the training grounds.”

“Oh?” Shadowheart turned, brow quirked, and Lae’zel gave her a grin that was almost sheepish.

Shadowheart let out a knowing sigh. “Yes, I think I heard about his ‘innocent slip’—you know, the one where he tried to swing your sword in the sparring circle and ended up toppling half the weapon racks?”

Lae’zel couldn’t hold back her laughter, shaking her head. “The boy has spirit. I’ll give him that.” She watched as Xan pretended to charge a powerful spell while Lily crouched low, ready to jump like a dragon pouncing on its prey.

Each of them was already so deep in shared stories that they missed the quieter tones of Xan and Lily’s voices drifting from a few feet away. The two had gathered a pile of sticks and leaves, their heads close together as they whispered, faces lit with a conspiratorial gleam. Xan, brows furrowed in intense concentration, recalled one of the simple incantations Shadowheart had used to summon a spark of light. He didn’t know exactly what words she’d used, but he knew the feeling—and that was enough, right?

Meanwhile, the group continued their exchange of lighthearted mishaps and laughable parenting moments.

“So there we were,” Astarion was saying, eyes glinting with his characteristic playfulness, “searching high and low for Wyll’s prized cloak, only to find Lily had ‘borrowed’ it to wrap up a family of mice she found near the cellar. When she told me, ‘they looked cold, Papa,’ I nearly melted on the spot.”

Wyll let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned into Astarion. “It’s true. It’s almost impossible to keep her from adopting every creature she finds. If it were up to her, we’d be living… well—probably at your cottage, Shadowheart. Room for every mouse and stray in Rivington.”

Shadowheart groaned but couldn’t hide her smile. She picked up a nearby bread roll and tossed it at Wyll, which he caught with a mock-salute.

Lae'zel just buried her head in her hands, shaking her head as she pleaded with them.“Stop. You’ll give her ideas. Last time we had guests, she wanted to invite the barn cats inside for ‘polite company.’”

Wyll and Astarion both laughed, their amusement rippling through the group as each story became more outrageous than the last. It was only when a faint crackling sound interrupted their conversation that they paused, glancing around in confusion.

“Did you all hear that?” Wyll asked, squinting as he turned back toward the children.

At the same time, Shadowheart gasped, her eyes widening as she spotted the source of the noise: a small blaze flickering and spreading from the pile of sticks and leaves Xan and Lily had crafted into a 'dragon’s lair'. The two were staring, transfixed, as small flames began licking up the branches, casting a small ring of smoke into the air.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Wyll dashed over, his cloak already in his hands as he swatted at the flames, gritting his teeth against the heat. Shadowheart was right beside him, muttering a water incantation under her breath that caused a light rain to pour down over the blaze, extinguishing the flames just as they started to spread toward the base of a tree. The kids, however, only looked up in mild surprise, as if they’d just been interrupted from some perfectly innocent game.

Lae’zel scooped up an awe-stricken Xan, whose eyes were round as saucers, still dazzled by his accomplishment.

“We did it, Ma,” he said, half-pouting, half-beaming as he stared up at her. “We made real dragon fire!”

Lily, meanwhile, was scurrying toward Astarion, her small hands gripping his cloak as he lifted her with a bemused smile, despite the exasperation in his eyes. “Little one, what did we say about ‘playing with fire’?”

“But Papa,” Lily pouted, pointing down at the charred remains of their ‘hoard,’ “we were dragons. And dragons have fire.”

Wyll shook his head, his stern expression softened by a reluctant smile as he ruffled her tangled hair. “Yes, they do, Lily. But dragons are very careful with their fire. So we must be too, alright?”

Xan looked up at Lae’zel with wide, imploring eyes. “We just wanted to be real dragons, Ma. Like the fierce red ones you talk about at bedtime!”

Lae’zel’s face softened, and she gave him an approving nod, a rare look of tenderness in her gaze.

“You are indeed fierce, Xan. A true warrior. But next time, we keep the fire pretend, understood?” She lifted him with ease, setting him onto her shoulders, and he let out a triumphant roar as she paraded him around like a victorious soldier.

Finally, Wyll shook his head with a chuckle, folding his arms as he watched them, a glint of pride in his eyes.

“We might not be the best examples of parenting,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, nonsense,” Astarion quipped with a smirk, his voice teasing yet affectionate. He glanced over at Lily, who was now happily playing with a strand of his silver hair, a satisfied smile on her face as she hummed to herself. “We’ve taught them resilience, at the very least.”

Shadowheart snorted, shaking her head. “And pyromania, apparently. Can’t forget that one.”

With the fire extinguished and the children thoroughly chastened, they finally settled back down on the blanket, a bit more wary of their little ‘dragons’ but equally charmed by the fiery spirits that reminded them of their own.

As they continued sharing stories, their children nestled between them, each of them aware that while parenthood was full of unexpected challenges and near-disasters, these small moments of chaos were the ones they’d cherish the most.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Just stab me in the heart already because i died at how cute this came out. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[skateordiebitch]

HIT ME UP || D.F. x reader

‘and i'll waste my time if you pursue me, i'll let you know, if you ever hit me up'

summary: dominic fike, the one night stand who won't go away.

and i’ll eat up dominic being the biggest yearner everytime!!! i love writing him as someone who’s just head over heels😭 also can we talk abt how hot he looks in these photos? GOOD LORD. PLEASE JUST ONE NIGHT.

anyways enjoy! requests are open too <3

The bar was loud, packed with people, but somehow you managed to carve out a little oasis at the corner, clutching your drink and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. 

It was one of those nights you weren’t even sure why you were out; you just knew you didn’t want to be home. 

Your friend had bailed on you last minute, but the lure of a Friday night was still enough to get you out the door and into the smoky, neon-lit crowd.

That’s when he caught your eye.

Not intentionally—just a glint of movement in your peripheral, followed by a cocky grin aimed at anyone and everyone in his path. 

This guy was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes and that kind of look that screamed trouble.

His confidence was unmistakable, bordering on the absurd, as if he was used to people looking at him, fawning over him. You rolled your eyes at the mere sight.

It wasn’t long before he zeroed in on you, and despite the fact that you were clearly uninterested, he strutted over, a grin on his face like he’d already won you over.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the bar beside you. His voice was low, smooth, a little too self-assured for your taste.

“Hi,” you replied, barely looking up, hoping your tone would convey your lack of interest.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Bad night or something?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “And you’re assuming that, why?”

He laughed, a deep, easy sound. “Just a hunch. You don’t exactly look thrilled to be here. This a party, if you couldn’t tell. Where you’re supposed to be having fun.”

You shrugged, tilting your glass in his direction. “Maybe I’m just avoiding guys like you.”

He let out another chuckle, clearly enjoying the challenge. “Ouch. So, I’m already a ‘type,’ huh?”

You gave him a once-over, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his eyes sparkled with barely-hidden mischief.

“You look like you know your way around this place,” you quipped. “Or at least like you think everyone else here should.”

“Guilty,” he said, unfazed. “But I have to say, you seem different from everyone else here.”

“Oh really? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, you’re talking to me, but you haven’t batted an eyelash since I walked up,” he said, flashing a grin. “Most people here usually fawn over me, at least a little bit.”

You smirked, unimpressed. “Maybe I just have high standards.”

His grin widened, intrigued. “Good. I like a challenge.”

You sipped your drink, meeting his gaze over the rim of your glass. “So, does the mysterious charmer have a name?”

“Dominic,” he replied smoothly, extending a hand. “And you?”

You paused, weighing whether to indulge him. Something about the sparkle in his eye, the cockiness tempered by an unexpected warmth, had you curious despite yourself.

“Nice to meet you, Dominic,” you said, finally shaking his hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful,” he replied, holding onto your hand a beat longer than necessary. “So, tell me, Y/N. What brings you out tonight?”

You shrugged. “I guess I felt like a drink. Or an excuse not to be home.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, interest glinting in his eyes. “Mysterious and straightforward. I like it.”

You rolled your eyes, amused despite yourself. “I get the feeling you say that to everyone, Dominic.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, leaning in with a sly smile, “but I mean it more this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, mimicking your shrug, a playful gleam in his eye. “But I’d argue I’m a good time… Care to find out?”

Against your better judgment—and perhaps the unexpected thrill of being genuinely intrigued—you left the bar with him, his arm around your shoulders as he steered you out into the cool night air. 

You walked through the streets, your voices carrying in the quiet night, the conversation flowing easily. You found yourself laughing at his witty quips, surprised by how disarmingly charming he could be without even trying.

“Are you always this confident?” you asked as you strolled along, barely aware of where you were going.

Dominic chuckled, flashing you a sideways grin. “I don’t know. Are you always this skeptical?”

“Touché,” you replied, nudging him with your elbow. “But yeah. Actually, I am.”

“Fair enough. I like a girl who keeps me on my toes.” He paused, glancing over at you with a sly smile. “But don’t worry. I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at you, as if he were genuinely intrigued by the fact that you hadn’t fallen at his feet like everyone else.

The night spiraled from there.

You didn’t know exactly what happened—there were blurry memories of shared laughs, whispered secrets, a lot of eye contact, and even more drinks. 

The next thing you knew, you were back at your place, barely registering how late it was.

As you stepped into the elevator to head up to your place, a tension settled between you both, charged and unspoken. You could feel his eyes on you, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he was daring you to break the silence.

The moment the elevator doors opened on your floor, you felt his hand graze yours, sending a flicker of warmth up your arm. The two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit hallway, each step closer to what you couldn’t deny you both wanted. 

When you finally reached your door, you fumbled with your keys, suddenly hyper-aware of every second that ticked by.

“Need some help there?” he asked, his voice a low murmur behind you.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Only if you’re as good with all these locks as you are with lines.”

He let out a soft chuckle, stepping close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling the space around you. 

With a deep breath, you finally managed to get the door open, stepping inside with Dominic following, his hand brushing yours as he closed the door behind him.

“Nice place,” he remarked, glancing around, but his eyes quickly settled back on you. “Though I have to say, I was mostly interested in the company.”

You rolled your eyes, though a grin betrayed you. “If I wanted flattery, I’d have stayed at the bar.”

“Good thing you didn’t,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze now locked on yours. 

There was a pause, the air between you thick with something you couldn’t ignore. And then, as if by some silent agreement, he reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you held his gaze, refusing to let him see you flinch. He seemed to appreciate it, his smile turning softer, almost reverent. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips barely grazing yours, teasing, as if waiting for you to close the gap.

You did.

The kiss started soft, but quickly deepened, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against him. You could feel the strength in his arms, the urgency in the way his fingers pressed into your back, as if he couldn’t get close enough. 

His mouth was warm and inviting, tasting faintly of whiskey and something inherently him.

Each touch, each kiss, felt like it was stripping away the layers you kept up, the armor you wore around people like him.

Without breaking the kiss, you backed toward the couch, your fingers tugging at his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor without a second thought, his focus completely on you as he guided you down onto the cushions, settling beside you with a grin that was half amusement, half something darker, more intense.

“Comfortable?” he murmured against your lips, his hands wandering over your sides, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Depends,” you shot back, your voice barely a whisper. “Are you going to keep talking?”

He let out a laugh, low and husky, his breath warm against your skin. “Fair enough. I’ll let my actions speak louder, then.”

With that, his hands moved with a practiced ease, gliding over your skin, finding ways to make you gasp and forget any lingering doubts you had. For once, it was easy to be completely in the moment, to let yourself get lost in the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, where to kiss, it was like he knew your body before even seeing it.

You felt your heart pounding as his hands traced along your skin, each touch lighting a fire that was hard to ignore.

As you lay back, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, his weight grounding you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate, like he was somehow peeling away your defenses, bit by bit, with each kiss, each brush of his fingertips. 

His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw, down to your collarbone, lingering in ways that left you breathless. There was something different about the way he moved, a gentleness mixed with unspoken intensity, like he was savoring every moment, every inch of skin he touched.

“You’re good at this,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself, though you half-expected him to respond with another cocky remark.

Instead, he looked up at you, eyes filled with a warmth you hadn’t expected.

He stayed silent. He only gave you a soft smile, his lips tracing your jaw as he spoke, his words melting into your skin.

The night unfolded in ways that left you surprised and, admittedly, a bit vulnerable. 

His hands and mouth moved in sync, guiding you both through a rhythm that felt almost surreal. And, between the breaths and stolen glances, there was a tenderness—a softness—that you hadn’t anticipated. It felt more like slow unraveling than a quick spark; each moment, each touch, felt deliberate, as though he was trying to memorize you in some quiet way.

At some point, you’d shifted, trading the couch for your bed, the journey between blurring in a haze of laughter and kisses that grew more urgent, more intense, with each passing moment. His words were soft, with a hint of challenge, and in that moment.

Eventually, after what felt like both hours and seconds, you lay side by side, his arm draped around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest.

The two of you were quiet, your breathing still a little heavy, but your hearts were slowing to a steady rhythm. You found yourself tracing gentle lines along his arm, your mind still reeling from the night’s unexpected intimacy. You couldn’t quite remember the last time someone had left you feeling so alive, so out of control yet comfortable.

Finally, as you lay tangled together, the early morning light beginning to creep in through the window, you found yourself smiling despite yourself. 

He was lying beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his eyes half-closed but alert, watching you with that same mischievous glint.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep, “I have to say, you were worth the chase.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you stretched out beside him. “You make it sound like I was a conquest.”

He shrugged, giving you a lazy grin. “Only because you put up a good fight.”

“Hmm,” you replied, stifling a smile. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m not exactly looking for a repeat performance.”

He smirked, his fingers tracing idle circles on your shoulder. “Who said anything about repeats? Besides, I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”

You let out a scoff, but his confidence—however misplaced—was weirdly endearing. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Guess we’ll see,” he said with a wink, leaning over to give you one last kiss before slipping out of bed.

And sure, it was good—he was cocky for a reason, apparently—but as soon as the sun started peeking through your blinds, you felt the sting of regret and a slight headache creeping in. 

—

The next morning hit you like a freight train. You rolled over, remembering that he left before you even fell asleep. Perfect. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, thinking how that was probably the last you’d see of Dominic.

That is, until you looked over at your nightstand.

“Of fucking course,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at his wallet.

It was lying on your nightstand, his name in embossed letters on the black leather, practically taunting you. You sighed. Of course, he’d be the kind of guy to leave something behind. 

He’d left a piece of himself behind, almost as if he’d known you’d want—or need—a reason to call him again.

Gritting your teeth, you picked up the wallet, rifling through the cards inside. There was an obnoxious number of credit cards, a couple of VIP passes to places you’d never heard of, and an California licenses with an all-too-familiar face staring back at you. 

Dominic Fike. 

You do a little more deep diving into the man who was in your bed all night— Seriously? you thought, staring at his face on the card. This guy is famous? 

His face, his music, his relationships, personal drama—all of it filled pages and pages of search results. Tabs upon tabs of articles, concert photos, and screaming fans filled your screen, confirming what you’d already suspected.

You had a one night stand with a literal celebrity—and had no idea.

Annoyed and a little embarrassed, you tapped on the number he’d saved in your phone the night before, dialing him with a deep sigh.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice smooth and somehow infuriatingly amused. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Not exactly,” you said, already irritated. “You left your wallet.”

He chuckled. “Did I now? Look at that. What a coincidence!”

You narrowed your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “Yes. Would you like it back, or should I just keep it as a very expensive souvenir? Something to remember you by?”

“Alright, alright,” he said, still laughing. “I’ll swing by in like, twenty. Wouldn’t want you holding it hostage or anything.”

You barely had time to regret your decision before he arrived, grinning like he’d won some kind of prize as you opened the door.

“Well, well,” he said, looking at you up and down, clearly amused by your less-than-enthused expression. “I knew you’d call.”

You held his wallet out at arm’s length, not letting him get too close. “Here.”

But Dominic, of course, was not the kind of guy to make anything easy.

He took the wallet, but instead of leaving, he walked right into your apartment, looking around like he was touring a museum.

“You have a cute place,” he remarked, sinking down onto your couch without waiting for an invitation.

“Thanks. Maybe, I’ll see you around,” you replied, crossing your arms, nodding towards the door.

“Oh, come on,” he said, flashing that aggravatingly charming smile. “Is that any way to treat a guest?”

“Guest? You’re barely an acquaintance,” you scoffed, leaning against the wall with a look of utter disbelief. “You could’ve told me you were like, famous, by the way,” you said, still crossing your arms.

He shrugged, leaning back as he flashed a smirk. “And miss out on the chance to see your genuine reaction? No way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is everything a game to you?”

“Only the fun things,” he replied, watching you with a spark of amusement. “Come on, admit it. You’re glad you didn’t know.”

You exhaled, fighting a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“You definitely would’ve have invited me over if you knew. You definitely wouldn’t have been screaming my name—”

“Dominic!” You exclaim, not wanting to recall any of last night.

“Geez, Y/N! There you go again,” Dominic laughs, “Should we just hit the bed now or something?”

You groan loudly, not even connecting your response before speaking, “No… No!” You say, “That’s not what I meant. Be serious. Can you last longer than a minute? Or is that impossible?”

“Oh, you know I can last longer than a minute.”

You plop down on the couch, giving up when you realized that you were practically writing his remarks yourself.

But, Dominic’s gaze softened, as if he saw through the veneer of irritation you were putting up. “Well, in all seriousness, most people don’t look at me like you did last night.”

“Disappointed?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, a bit more serious this time. “Like I was just some guy at the bar.” He smiled, something genuine glinting through the playful mask. “It was nice.”

There was a beat of silence, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air. But then, with a smirk, he broke the moment. “Besides, I wasn’t ready for our little game to end.”

“Oh, and what game is that?” you asked, fighting the slight flutter in your chest.

He grinned, standing up as he approached you. “You, trying to resist me. And me, making sure you fail.”

Something shifted in his expression—maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was just your indifference. But whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“I won’t fail,” You say, probably in the most confident tone he’s heard you, “I know how to protect my peace.”

The next hour passed in a bizarre back-and-forth as he casually overstayed his welcome, making himself at home while you threw every jab and sarcastic remark you could think of his way. 

You half-expected him to get fed up and leave, but instead, he only seemed more amused.

Every time you shot him down, he came back with a quip, grinning as if he were winning some game only he understood.

It was infuriating. But it was also… a little fun. 

Against all reason, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, even as you rolled your eyes at his bravado. There was something oddly compelling about his relentless charm, even though he was the exact type of person you couldn’t stand.

By the time he finally left, you were exhausted—annoyed, sure, but also strangely energized, like you’d just run a marathon you hadn’t expected to enjoy.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—you hadn’t seen the last of him. And part of you, despite everything, didn’t entirely mind that idea.

—

The day after Dominic’s unexpected reappearance, things settled back into their normal, peaceful state. You returned to your regular life, or at least tried to, even though your mind kept drifting back to the chaotic encounter that morning. 

It was supposed to have ended after one night, but there he was, strolling back into your life as if he had never left.

A few days passed without incident, and you almost convinced yourself it was over—until you spotted him again, completely by chance. 

You were waiting for a coffee at the counter of your favorite café, scrolling through your phone, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Let me guess—no idea who I am?”

You turned, and there he was, looking as smug as ever, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He looked both out of place and totally in his element among the crowd of early-morning patrons. 

“Hey, stranger,” Dominic says with a cheeky smile.

You raised an eyebrow, half amused, half exasperated. “Are you stalking me, or do you actually have a purpose here?”

He grinned, shrugging. “Coincidence, I mean, you’re at a very popular spot, you know. Or fate, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“You wish,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face. You gestured at the counter. “Coffee first. Then you can do your charm routine.”

He chuckled, sliding in beside you as you placed your order. 

There was a comfortable silence as you waited, but it was laced with an electric energy that made you all too aware of him standing there, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

As you turned to pay, you noticed him handing over a bill, waving you off. “My treat,” he said, his tone casual.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m capable of buying my own coffee.”

“Come on,” he said, leaning in with that infuriating grin. “Consider it my way of saying thanks for not selling my wallet on eBay.”

“Very funny,” you replied, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck as he continued to look at you with that playful spark in his eye. 

You both took your coffees and walked toward a table in the corner, where he slid into a seat across from you, leaning back in a way that was far too comfortable.

You took a sip, studying him over the rim of your cup. “So, why are you here? Couldn’t resist a second dose of my sparkling personality?”

“Not exactly,” he replied smoothly, a little too quickly. He paused, his eyes catching yours with a hint of something serious beneath his usual carefree demeanor. “Actually... I was curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“About you,” he said, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sincerity in his gaze, as though he was trying to get past your defenses. “I meet a lot of people. But it’s refreshing to find someone who looks at me like... well, like I’m just some guy they met at a bar.”

You leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Hate to break it to you, but you are just some guy I met at a bar.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, that’s what I’m talking about. Most people that see me in a bar, wouldn’t say that.”

You took another sip of coffee, letting the silence settle, wondering where this was going. Finally, you set your cup down, crossing your arms. “So, what exactly do you want from me, Dominic?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe... I just wanted to get to know you.”

You studied him, searching for any trace of a joke or a punchline, but his expression remained open, almost vulnerable.

Against your better judgment, you felt yourself softening, intrigued despite yourself. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

He grinned, looking relieved and a bit triumphant. “Alright, let’s start simple. What do you do?”

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “Oh, I thought you were a fan of the ‘mysterious stranger’ vibe.”

“Consider it character development,” he said with a wink, but you could tell he was genuinely curious.

“I’m in marketing,” you said finally, “for a non-profit.”

His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand in a playful imitation of your posture. “Wow. Look at you, making the world a better place. And here I thought you were just another mysterious stranger.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone. “Yeah, well, not everyone spends their days living like a rockstar.”

“Ah, so you do know who I am.” He pointed a finger at you in mock accusation, but his grin was warm.

“Barely,” you replied, holding his gaze. “Not a fan, if I’m honest. It’s just not my type of music.”

That seemed to amuse him even more, and he laughed, shaking his head. “Ouch. Wounded.”

“Hey, just keeping it real.” You took another sip of your coffee, realizing that, despite yourself, you were starting to enjoy this.

“So… what’s your favorite type of music?” Dominic asks, as you chuckle, “What, you wanna write a song about me or something?”

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

You could feel the heat creep towards your cheeks, and you bet that he saw it, too, “My music taste is kind of all over the place. I’m really into rock music, like 90s rock. Blink-182. Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

You see Dominic’s face light up with a joy you haven’t quite seen from him before, “You do know like, all of my music is inspired by that, right? Those are some of my favorite bands.”

You shake your head, “You’re just saying that.”

He holds up his left hand, and you realize it’s John Frusciante; The guitarest of said band. Of course, is it.. “Am I, now?”

You stared at his hand, taking in the tattoo of Frusciante’s face, a bit faded from time, yet still unremarkably impressive. Your jaw dropped. “Okay, maybe… I believe you now.” 

Dominic grinned, pleased with himself. “Told you.” He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

You shook your head, amused and slightly exasperated. “So, you're telling me that your whole ‘cool guy who doesn’t care’ vibe is just you trying to live out your childhood rockstar fantasy?”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe. What can I say? I like to lean into it.” He paused, watching you closely, his smile softening a little. “But you know, it’s not just for show. I’m not playing a part for anyone. It’s who I am.”

You narrowed your eyes, intrigued despite yourself. There was a moment of quiet between you two, but it wasn’t awkward.

It was the kind of silence that existed between two people who were really starting to connect.

"Okay, then," you said, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow. "If you’re so real, then how about you prove it?"

His eyes glinted. "Prove it how?"

You shrugged, sipping your coffee. "Let’s see if you can keep up with me outside the ‘rockstar’ image. Ditch the cocky lines for a minute. Show me the real you.”

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He leaned in closer, his voice low. “You wanna see the real me, huh? Alright. I’ll play along."

You had to fight to keep from grinning, but something in the air shifted. 

The banter was still there, but it felt less like a game now and more like two people actually trying to understand each other.

“I’m not here for a show,” you said, your tone steady. “Just, you know… a genuine conversation. No flash, no pretense.”

Dominic watched you carefully, his gaze softer now, but there was still a glimmer of that cocky charm.

“I think I can do that. But fair warning,” he said with a grin, “I’m not sure how good I am at keeping the ‘real me’ in check for too long.”

You smirked, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The two of you continued to talk, the conversation slipping into more personal territory as you discovered more about each other. 

Dominic opened up in ways you hadn’t expected, sharing bits and pieces about his life, his rise to fame, his time in jail, the constant pressure, and the sacrifices. 

And as much as you were tempted to tease him, you found yourself listening—really listening.

He, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by you in a way that made you almost uncomfortable. The way he’d pause, studying your expressions, as though trying to figure you out, kept you on your toes.

“So you really don’t care about all the ‘fame’ stuff?” You asked after a long stretch of conversation.

“Not really,” He replied. “I think it’s just... a distraction. People focus so much on what you do, not who you are.” He shrugged. “It’s easy to get lost in that. I, obviously, get lost in it sometimes.”

“Yeah, trust me, I can tell… But, I also get that. I really couldn’t imagine having fans, or followers, or any of that bullshit,” You say, watching him run a hand through his hair, staring down into his coffee. 

“It’s kind of like, I’m good at being who people expect me to be. But sometimes... I forget what it’s like to just be me, you know?”

You nodded, sensing the vulnerability in his words despite his usual bravado. “I get it,” you said softly, “You wanna be normal guy sometimes.”

Dominic looked up at you then, and for a moment, it wasn’t the cocky, charming rockstar sitting across from you. 

It was just Dominic. 

The man with flaws, with dreams, with struggles. The man who, despite everything, was still trying to figure it out.

“And what about you?” he asked, voice quieter now. “What’s your real ‘you’ like?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. You had a tendency to keep your guard up, to keep people at arm’s length. But for some reason, something about Dominic made you feel like it was okay to let that wall slip—just a little.

“Me?” You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m just trying to make a difference. To not get too lost in all the noise. I want to do something that actually matters.”

Dominic watched you with quiet intensity, as if he could see through the surface-level responses, reading between the lines. “And you think you can do that?” he asked, his voice serious now.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure yourself. “I don’t know. But I have to at least try.”

He sat back, taking that in. His eyes softened again, and for a fleeting moment, he looked like a man who wasn’t concerned with the world’s expectations or how many fans were waiting for him outside. 

It was just him and you. 

And in that moment, you could tell he wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

The tension between you shifted, growing more comfortable, more familiar. There was still a playful spark in his eyes, but now, there was also a sincerity that wasn’t there before.

“I’ll be honest,” he said, leaning in just slightly. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s a line I’m sure you use on a lot of people.”

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. “No, really. You’re different. And I’m not talking about your, uh, lack of ‘fan-girling’ over me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Just a little,” he teased. “But it’s cool. It makes you way more interesting.”

“Glad to know I’m not just another fan to you.”

Dominic leaned back, his expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah. You’re not. You’re someone I’m actually starting to care about. And for the record...” he added with a grin, “I think I’m getting pretty good at this ‘real me’ thing.”

“Better keep it up,” you teased, trying to hide the soft flutter in your chest. “Because I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

He leaned in a little closer, voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And there it was again—the chemistry. 

The spark that had been there from the start, now igniting with a slow burn. You didn’t know where it was going, but you knew this conversation, this connection—it wasn’t something you could ignore. Not anymore.

As you finished your coffee, you both lingered, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. Neither of you seemed in a rush to break the moment. 

Maybe this was the start of something unexpected. Something that neither of you had planned—but both of you might just need.

You spent another hour talking, exchanging stories and teasing banter. 

He was funny, charming, and surprisingly down-to-earth when he wanted to be. 

For someone so confident, he had a certain openness that was hard to ignore, and despite your initial annoyance, you found yourself drawn to him. 

By the time you left, you almost didn’t mind when he suggested meeting up again.

“Alright,” he said as he walked you to the door. “How about a deal? You let me take you out again, and I promise I’ll try my best to keep my rockstar tendencies in check.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Why do I feel like that’s a promise you can’t keep?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

And before you could think of a clever comeback, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips made your heart skip a beat, and as he pulled away, he looked at you with a quiet intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“See you soon, then?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to find the words, and as he walked away, you realized that, despite everything, a part of you was already looking forward to it.

—

The days that followed Dominic’s confession were full of anticipation, but also of hesitation. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing on the edge of something, something you couldn’t quite define.

Every time you saw him, every time he looked at you like he was seeing the real you, you felt your resolve weakening.

It was confusing—after all, you’d spent so long keeping people at a distance, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you were fine on your own.

But Dominic… he had a way of breaking through that wall, bit by bit, in a way that scared you and exhilarated you at the same time.

You spent the next few days trying to focus on your routine, but it felt impossible. Every small thing, like the sound of your phone buzzing or catching a glimpse of a song you both liked, reminded you of him.

But you weren’t sure if you were ready to dive into whatever this was between you. It was so new, so unexpected, and you didn’t want to risk getting hurt.

But then, just as you were trying to push those thoughts away, the text came.

"Hey, what’s up? Want to grab some dinner tonight?"

It was casual, like everything between you had always been. But beneath the surface, you could feel the weight of what had been said the night before. You hesitated for only a second before responding.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

A few minutes later, he sent a suggestion, and you agreed.

There was something about the way he made everything feel easy—like there was no pressure, no expectations, just the two of you figuring it out together.

When you met him at the restaurant that evening, it was almost like nothing had changed.

You greeted each other with that familiar teasing banter, a lightheartedness that had become the foundation of your interactions. But this time, there was a quiet undertone to the conversation, something deeper.

It felt like you were both waiting for the right moment to say something more, something real.

As the meal wore on, you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

Talking about your dreams, your fears, your past—things you usually kept buried beneath the surface.

And Dominic, as always, listened.

But this time, he didn’t just nod along or offer some flippant remark. He responded with sincerity, sharing his own struggles and insecurities, the parts of himself that were rarely seen by the public.

For the first time, you began to understand the weight of his life—the constant scrutiny, the expectations, the pressure to always be someone he wasn’t. And you could see the toll it had taken on him, the way he tried to push it all away with jokes and arrogance, but there was a tenderness beneath the bravado.

A part of him that was tired of playing the part.

After dinner, as you walked out of the restaurant, Dominic turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

“Do you ever wonder if we’re just two people who are too afraid to let ourselves get close?” he asked, his voice quiet but serious.

You stopped walking, looking at him. His words hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You knew you’d been keeping your distance, but you hadn’t realized how much he had been holding back too.

“I don’t know,” you said after a pause. “I think we’re both scared of what could happen if we let ourselves feel too much.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. I get that. But maybe… maybe we’re both ready to stop pretending, even if we don’t have it all figured out yet.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. Could you really let yourself be vulnerable like this? Could you trust him enough to let your guard down?

Before you could respond, he took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a promise. Like he was saying, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

For a moment, everything else faded away.

The noise of the world, the uncertainty, the fears you had about being hurt—it all melted into the background. You didn’t need to have all the answers. All you needed was to be in this moment with him.

You finally spoke, your voice soft but steady. “I think… I think I’m ready. But you have to promise me something.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“That you won’t disappear on me. That you won’t make this about your fame or your image. I need to know that the real you is what I’m getting.”

His expression softened, and for the first time, you saw the full depth of his sincerity. “I promise,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “The real me, that’s what I’m offering. No pretenses. No games.”

The promise hung in the air between you, and in that moment, you believed him. You didn’t know where this would lead, but you knew you couldn’t keep running from it. The connection you shared was too strong to ignore, too real to pretend it wasn’t happening.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of laughter, late-night conversations, and moments of intimacy that felt genuine and raw.

There were still moments of uncertainty, moments where you questioned whether you were making the right choice, but every time Dominic showed up, every time he made you feel seen and heard, you couldn’t help but believe in it a little more.

You still held onto your independence, still made sure to focus on your work and your own dreams, but something in you had shifted. You were allowing yourself to let him in, to trust him in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

One evening, as you were walking together through the city streets after another spontaneous dinner, Dominic stopped in front of you, his face serious. You turned to him, your heart racing.

“I know we’ve been taking this slow,” he began, his voice quiet, but full of conviction. “But I need you to know that I’m all in. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always feared that this would be a fleeting moment in time—something that would fizzle out as quickly as it had ignited.

But Dominic’s words, the sincerity in his eyes, made you believe that this was something worth holding onto.

“I’m in too,” you said, the words coming easier than you had expected. “I don’t know where this is going, but I want to see it through.”

Dominic smiled, and for the first time, there was no uncertainty in his expression. No bravado. Just a man, standing before you, with his heart on his sleeve.

“Then let’s see where this takes us,” he said, his voice low and full of promise.

And with that, the uncertainty between you began to fade. The connection you had was real, and though the road ahead might be unpredictable, you knew that, together, you could face whatever came next.

[ask-mister-mystery]

Stan hears Olive hit the landing pad of expired bread before he sees her. He whirls around, the lit flame of his lighter guttering as he does.

“Olive! Are you okay?” Stan shouts as he rushes back to her side. He finds her not the worse for wear but seemingly looking like she’s about to burst into tears.

He squats down so he’s on her level.

“Hey, you alright kid? It’s okay now I swear, we’re safe. Look, we ain’t gonna get split up again, ok? I’m gonna be right here with you all the while. I gotta give you back to Aggie in one piece after all…” he says, trying not to sound too awkward. Whilst Dipper and Mabel had changed the way the old man acts around kids for the better, he still felt a bit at odds trying to reassure them in the face of danger. Stan was a man of action, not words after all. Or at least that’s what he thought he was.

He stands up and looks around again, holding the lighter with an outstretched arm, hoping to discern anything amongst the gloom. This bit definitely wasn’t part of the usual tour. Something had gone wrong from what the usual guests were seeing. Had they just antagonised the scare actors too much? Him and Olive were going to have to get to the bottom of things.

He squints, and can just about making a pair of double doors on the other side of the room. Bingo.

“Are you going to be ok to come with me Olive?” Stan asked. “I promise next ghost that comes near me is gonna meet my two friends…” he says, reaching in his pockets to retrieve his brass knuckles.

The firecrackers explode in the hearth with an almighty noise, sending sparks and gobbets of flame spitting all over the room. The levitating figure of the little girl screams in response, shafts of light suddenly shooting out of her eyes and mouth like she’s a human torch.

“I ONLY WANTED TO PLAYYYY…” the voice from the little girl warbles out, sounding distorted and metallic, like it’s coming out from a broken microphone.

But it’s too late for Stan, the floor has fallen away down into the deep dark unknown.

He feels like he stands there for a brief second, like Wile Coyote standing stock still in mid air as he runs over a cliff.

Then he falls. Down, down, down.

Do supermarkets even have basements? Stan thought. Then he lands.

Soft. Squishy. What the hell was this? Stan reaches in his jacket and flicks his lighter and tries to discern something in the gloom. It looks like he’s in some kind of subterranean storage room. He can just about make out storage racks lining the walls. So what were they storing in here?

Stan looks down at the soft pile he’s landed on. A stack of Wonderbread, the slices green with a mould fuzz beneath the plastic bags. And his doctor said to stay away from processed foods.

He looks up and sees the square of vanished floor from the room he was just in above.

“Olive? Are you there!? I’m okay down here! You might need to find your way to the next room, I’ll try and see if I can find a way up there!”

Stan frowns and tries to pick a way through the mess. Long expired Twinkies squish and burst underfoot as he tries to make it to the other end of the room.

Once they were out of here, he was suggesting that next Halloween he and Aggie just watch a movie.