#humbly reminds me to keep spreading positivity

[munson-blurbs]

Argyle x Fem!Reader smut

Summary: Your plans tonight only involve ordering a pizza, but a conversation with the pizza boy has you craving something very different.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), phone sex, masturbation (m! and f!), voice kink, Argyle is a simp as per usual

WC: 1.7k

A/N: This was inspired by me and @word-wytch ordering pizza at Steel City Con where the pizza boy did not want to get off of the phone. Nothing spicy happened, but it made us think...what if it had?

Also, big shout out to @munsonmuses for helping me with the ending. Love you, Addie!

--

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. Can I interest you in a delicious pie? Perhaps the Argyle Special?”

You stare at the shiny brochure in your lap, breath catching in your throat when you hear his voice. You were expecting someone brusque, rushing you off of the line so they can collect the next order, but the man speaking to you might as well be laying on a white sand beach. 

“Um, h-hi,” you wince at the way you stammer, tempted to hang up and save yourself further embarrassment, but you keep the receiver pressed to your ear. Lenora Hills is a fresh start, a place where no one knows you, and you’re determined to spread your wings and become more than the ‘shy, awkward girl.’ So, even though you were going to order a small cheese pie, you push yourself to ask, “what’s the Argyle Special?”

Soft laughter trills from the speaker; it’s warm and welcoming without a hint of malice. “Oh, the Argyle Special? She’s kinda my baby.” Good lord, the way he says baby has your thighs clenching involuntarily. You hear him shuffling a bit, adjusting positions to get more comfortable. “So, we start out with your classic thin crust.” Argyle lowers his voice and adds, “You might think you can toss it in the air a coupla times and call it a day, but you’d be wrong. You gotta knead it, get all the kinks out, right?”

“Mhm.” Your free hand begins to dip below the waistband of your denim shorts before you pull back. What are you doing? Touching yourself to a stranger explaining how to make pizza? “I, uh, I gotta—”

“Next comes the sauce,” he continues, not noticing your interjection. “Now, less is definitely more here, y’know what I’m saying? A little goes a long way.”

You nod, too caught up in the moment to remember that he can’t see you. “A-And then what?”

“Cheese. Enough to achieve that perfect amount of gooey goodness, but not so much that it weighs down the slice.” Another peal of laughter, just as kind as the one earlier. “Some people ask for extra cheese, but in my humble opinion, it takes away from the rest of the toppings, y’know?”

There’s a quiet swishing sound coming from his end, and it draws your attention. “What’re you doing that’s making that noise?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yo-yo.” Your question has clearly caught him off-guard; instead of further explaining his baby, he asks, “what’re you doing?”

Immediately, your thoughts flit to the way your fingers yearn to be inside you, the way your clit aches to be rubbed each time he talks. But he can’t know that. “N-Nothing. Um, yeah, nothing.”

You can practically hear his brows raise in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Argyle teases gently. “In fact, it sounds like you’re doing something important.” He pauses for a second. “Lemme guess: top secret CIA mission?”

“No.”

“FBI?”

You giggle despite the embarrassment washing over you. “Not quite.”

There’s silence; his audible breathing is the only way you know he’s still on the line. “You got a really cute laugh.” 

Is he flirting? This is flirting; it has to be. But he doesn’t even know what you look like. 

You don’t know what he looks like, either, and you were about to masturbate to him, you remind yourself wryly. Anything’s possible. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Sweet but also sexy. A rare combo, if you ask me.” 

You summon all of your courage; the ball is in your court. “I, um, I like your voice.” Heat pools in your cheeks as you say the words. 

“My voice? Shit, I always thought it was kinda goofy. My friend Jonathan says I sound like Cheech and Chong. Well, not, like, both of them, but just…one.” A rustling noise; he’s shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m not good with getting compliments and stuff.”

“S’okay. Me either.” You laugh again, finding the ability to be honest refreshing. “Keep telling me about your special. Your baby,” you amend. 

He exhales a cloud of lust. “Fuck, say ‘baby’ again.” Ah, so it had the same effect on him that it did on you. 

This time, you don’t chastise yourself for the way your fingertips graze your cotton panties. You and Argyle are clearly on the same page. Why fight it? “Tell me more about the Argyle Special, baby.”

“I gotta know first if you’re doing what I’m about to do,” he says breathily. 

“I am,” you affirm, finding your clit easily and applying the lightest pressure. 

A sharp inhale, then, just above a whisper, “Good. So, so good.” He unzips his fly and groans as his hand wraps around his cock. “I’m just gonna talk, and you keep touching yourself for me, okay?”

“Mhm. Just…keep going.”

“Shit, yeah, I got you.” Another moan as he strokes himself, his sentences getting choppier. “The toppings…I like to combine sweet and—mmf—savory.”

You tug your panties aside, slipping your middle finger into your waiting pussy. “Keep going,” you urge, desperate for his silky voice. 

“Some diced g-green pepper…sliced jalapeños…and…” Argyle’s focus is split between listing ingredients and jerking off, and one is evidently winning. 

“And what, baby?” There’s a slight edge to your tone—dare you say, a sultriness—as your ring finger joins your middle, fucking yourself with both of them. 

You’re not the only one who picks up on your newfound confidence. “And pineapple,” he manages. “Comes from a can…fuck, I can hear how wet you are.”

You whimper, forcing air into your lungs. Breathing has never been a manual task until right now. “It’s because of you.” Your fingers move faster; you curl them slightly to maximize your pleasure. “You and your voice.”

“I’d talk all goddamn day for you.” His voice is thick with desire. “I’d do anything you asked me to—oh, fuck,” he grunts. “What would you want me to do if I was with you right now?”

What wouldn’t you want him to do is an easier question, but you try to quickly formulate a response. “I-I’d want you to touch me.”

“More specific, honey,” he tuts. “Where do you want me touching you?”

Everywhere. Anywhere. You think about where your own hand would be if you weren’t holding the phone. “My clit,” you say urgently, “or my…my tits.”

“Mmm, I could put my mouth on one and my fingers on the—”

“No,” you insist, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Fingers only. Need to keep your mouth free so you can talk.”

A chuckle, then, “fair enough. Guess I’ll rub that pretty little clit of yours, huh? Make sure you’re ready f’me.” There’s a soft puh as he spits on his cock to lubricate it. “Wish I was inside of you. Bet you’re so wet…and warm…and—ohh, yeah— so tight…”

“I’m so close,” you whine, absolutely desperate for this orgasm. You tuck the phone between your ear and your shoulder, bring your newly-freed middle finger to your clitoris, now swollen with need. “Please, Argyle, tell me how you’d fuck me.”

“Oh, baby,” he rasps, the schlick of his fist stroking his erection becomes louder, faster. “I want you screaming my name. That sweet little pussy st-stuffed with my cock. And I’ll go deeper…and deeper…and deeper…until you can’t—fucking—take it!” He growls out the last four words. 

It’s enough to drive you to the edge. You don’t tell him you’re cumming, but he knows just from the choked moans that you’re there. Your fingers are shiny with the proof of your arousal as you finish all over them, wishing they belonged to Argyle. Wishing you belonged to Argyle. 

“I’m cumming, fucking shit, h-oh, my God.” He’s in another galaxy now, stars swirling around him as his release spurts from his aching tip and coats his hand in his sticky seed. “Holy fuckin’…whoa.” There’s a brief pause. “Gimme one sec, okay?”

Argyle’s racing across the kitchen, phone dangling from the cord, before you can even respond. “Sorry,” he says, panting and laughing when he returns to the receiver, “had to grab some paper towels and clean myself up. Can’t go walking around with jizz on my hands.” 

“Not a good look,” you agree, the warmth from your giggle melting any residual awkwardness. “You definitely need to wash them, like, a hundred times before you make another pizza.”

“Nah, man; I’m actually clocking out now. You were gonna be my last customer, but, uh…” he trails off, and it occurs to you that you never finished placing your order. “We got a little distracted.”

Distracted is putting it mildly, but you’re in no headspace for a semantics debate. “I guess I’ll have to call back the next time you’re working and try again.”

“Y-Yeah, for sure!” Eagerness dominates his tone, and he tries to rein it in. “Or, um, maybe you can come by in person? I’d like to see the girl who made me cum harder than I have since…ever,” he adds cheekily. 

“Mhm. I can do that.” Can you? Yes, you tell yourself, I can. I’m turning over a new leaf, and that apparently involves having phone sex with the pizza guy and then meeting him for the first time at his job. 

You swear you hear a quiet yet triumphant, “yes!” before he says, “You sure? Because I’d totally get it if you wanted to keep this a one-time thing.” His hesitation indicates that he’s no stranger to unrequited pining, like he’s bracing himself for a rejection. “But I gotta be honest with you; I really wanna see you.”

“I wanna see you, too.” You wrap the springy cord around your forefinger. If his voice could make you feel this way, imagine what he could do with his fingers, his tongue, his…

“I work from noon until six tomorrow, if you wanna stop in?” Argyle cuts into your train of thought. “Or if that’s too soon, then we can just—”

“Argyle?”

“Yeah?”

You smile widely even though there’s no way for him to know that. “See you at six tomorrow.”

--

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 9: False God [Jeff the Killer X F!Reader]

Warnings: Degradation, rough sex, loss of virginity and breeding MINORS DNI

AN: Virginity is just a concept reminder <3

Kinktober Masterlist

Reblogs are appreciated!

It's criminal that you sit on the lap of a god that you, and everyone has ever seen is coveting. Your hips are positioned in line with his, and your flesh is warm from his lustful touch. Your god wants you to please him, he asked you himself.

"Did you know that some kinds of gods feel an almost biological desire to sow their oats?" He asked you. His lidless eyes peer at you like a seer who knows and sees all. His grin, much too wide, leathery skin that's been kissed by the sun itself - possibly burned by it at one point - and dark hair frame him perfectly in the dim light. Your god is tall as he looms over you and demands your attention.

His skin is beautifully pale, like the skin of the moon. The only pops of color adorning his face is the slight redness that frames his eyes and his mouth like imperfect halos. He's beautiful in his own right, a pure figure that demands a certain lust for blood from all those who follow him and give their love to him.

You didn't even know that your god could touch your imperfect body as he hooks his long, spindly fingers under your chin and forces you to look up at him. He commands your attention with his gaze alone.

Timidly, you shake your head as he positions you further over him. The head of his cock presses against your fragile opening, like he wants to be the first and only man inside you. He chose you for this reason. Your god demanded to know some of the most beautiful virgins available to him, flowers waiting to be picked, and chose you out of the line up.

A coupling like this was seen as a blessing. To be touched by his holy seed was what you, and so many wished for within your pathetic lifetimes. To be touched and loved by him was to be lifted from your mortal shell to that of an angel on earth.

"Talk to me," he says curtly. "Use your words, or are you too fucking starstruck to even try?"

You internally wince. You did not mean to upset your god. You softly apologize to him and pause when you feel the tip of his cock start to press at the lips of your pussy. He's getting closer and closer to deflowering you.

"I was not aware of such an urge," you meekly reply. You keep your voice low and humble in his presence.

He nods and then grins at you, his gaze and his leer not too dissimilar to that of the men you'd call pigs. He grabs your hips roughly and then slams you down to his bed. He chuckles, fingers dug into your strong thighs and he wraps them up around his shoulders. Your calves just barely deign to touch his neck.

Your god's fingers touch your pussy and spread you open as he repositions himself. "You'll be a little cumslut before you know it," he murmurs, "nothing but a wanton whore that needs my cum and not much else to function." He says it like a joke and laughs accordingly, loving how heat spreads over your body. He can just barely hear your heart as it hammers in your chest.

"Y'nervous?"

You nod ever so slightly. "Yes."

He coos softly like he cares about you before his hips rut forwards. He groans lowly at how tight your cunt is, how you struggle to open up and take his large girth. Every inch splits you open deeper and deeper for him. "Fuck, you're tight," he sighs in contentment as he pulls his hips back again just for a second before slamming them back in again.

Tears well in your eyes and you dare grasp at him. Your eyes are wide and your mouth gapes. Your body trembles. You try to relax and show your god you're capable of handling him lest he changes his mind and decides to curse you and your loved ones for you failing to meet his standards, but you can't help it. He's deflowered you in such a crass way, tearing your petals open and shoving himself inside of you.

You suppose you shouldn't really expect much else. He's a god and you're just a human toy being used for his pleasure, but goodness you expected different.

"C'mon," he whispers in your ear as he feels your pussy start to wet around him the longer he stays hilted inside of you, "just relax and take it, slut," he giggles childishly. He pulls his hips back and starts to thrust a bit harder, his lidless eyes gazing at how your body bounces for him with every rough thrust. You have such beautiful skin, and your form is impeccable. Out of all the virgins lined up for him, you were the one that really caught his attention. He stares down at your body further and gleefully grins at how well you seem to take him.

He grunts as he folds you with his chest pressing against yours. You can just barely feel his heart speeding up too. Uncharacteristic of a god to feel tired, isn't it? You feel his sharp, unevenly cut nails dig into your skin and draw blood from how hard he holds you.

"Just a fuckin' fleshlight," he mumbles, "a fleshlight to breed. My breeding bitch," he rambles further. His thrusts get harder and harder. You feel every inch of his thick cock plunge inside of you, filling you to the brim. His veins are deliciously throbbing and rubbing you in all the right places. Your pussy makes those noises he loves so much, and his balls smack against your ass. He pants softly in your ear as he rambles on about breeding.

He draws blood blood when he grasps your waist and holds you down, loving the tensing of your muscles when he ruts into you, "your cunt is gonna take all of my cum," he says, "fill you to the fucking brim and then I'll keep fucking going," he pants. "Keep going and going until your filled, used up pussy can't take any goddamn more."

His brows furrow as he hears moans spill from your lips. You're feeding his ego the more you give into him. Your pussy squeezes his cock tightly and your nails rake long, crimson lines up and down his back. At this moment, you don't seem to care that he's your god, only that he's bringing you such unearthly pleasure. You lightly are able to buck your hips against his before he holds you down even harder, slamming his full weight into you. Every stroke is overwhelming. You can feel him all the way up in your body, certainly rearranging parts of you.

Your head falls back and you barely arch your back from the mating press he keeps you in. The tears that welled in your eyes are now streaming down your cheeks as you take him again and again. He's getting close though. You were never too well versed on matters of sex but you can tell he's getting close.

He bites into your neck. His shark-like teeth cause you to bleed and you gasp much to his enjoyment. "Gonna get you pregnant," he huffs, "all round with my fuckin' kid," he continues as he rams into you, "come on, take it, you fucking breeding bitch-" he breathes out before laying his full weight into you. He watches your eyes go wide in delight as his cock finally spills inside of you. Thick, heavy ropes of cum splash against your cervix and flood your womb.

You gasp loudly and claw wildly at his back. Your heart and your pussy flutter around him, sweat dripping all over your body as you feel him empty his balls inside of you. You pant while your thoughts drift off. You feel just a bit dizzy as he continues to grind himself against you, barely able to form a conscious thought as you realize you made your god orgasm.

His lips get close to your ear and you swear you feel the ghost of a kiss before he whispers to you.

"You're not gonna let anyone else inside of you like this, understand?" He asks curtly before you nod in response, too floaty to even begin to form proper words for him. "You're not gonna carry anyone else's children but mine."

A part of you feels joy that your god is this possessive over you. You hide it, lest you come off as haughty and full of yourself, and nod.

"Thank you," you whisper back to him while your legs tremble around him. You're able to peel off and feel your lower half unceremoniously tumble down to the bed. You feel like jelly, still shaky and trembling after he deflowered you like he did. "Thank you for the blessings you have given me."

Your god laughs. "You're welcome. Now, shut up and spread your legs again."

[bloomzone]

WHAT IS WONYOUNGISM ? : THE.ALL.U.NEED GUIDE

A lot of u guys keep asking me who is wonyoung what is wonyoungism .. today is the day to introduce WONYOUNG and WONYOUNGISM for the ppl who don't know .. !

[wonyoung famous video cuz I know u seen her before ]

[they are with English sub dw]

- I got to learn wonyoung mindset so lucky Vicky

- the idc you are you I'm me famous video

- the wow video

-where the lucky Vicky mindset come from ?

Who is Wonyoung?

Jang Wonyoung is a South Korean idol, best known as a member of IVE and formerly of IZ*ONE. She’s the "it-girl" of K-pop—graceful, confident, and effortlessly stylish. With her tall figure, radiant smile, and elegant demeanor, she’s become the embodiment of modern femininity and charm. But beyond the flawless visuals and stage presence, Wonyoung represents someone who’s confident, hardworking, and completely at ease with herself.

Wonyoung isn’t just a person she’s a vibe (I can't describe my luv for her JASJDJDJEID) . And that’s where Wonyoungism comes in reminder Wonyoungism wasn’t created by Wonyoung herself—it was born from her fans. As Wonyoung’s popularity soared, fans noticed her unique vibe: the way she carried herself, her graceful demeanor, and her ability to make everyday moments feel magical. They coined the term Wonyoungism to describe the lifestyle and mindset inspired by her.

It’s not just about her visuals or talent, but the aura she radiates:

-Effortless elegance

-Positive energy

-Main-character confidence

Social media communities, especially on TikTok, and Pinterest, played a huge role in spreading the concept. Fans started sharing aesthetic edits, tips, and guides on how to embody Wonyoung’s mindset and style in daily life. It became more than just admiration—it was a movement that encouraged self-care, confidence, and romanticizing life.

What is Wonyoungism?

🎀.Wonyoungism isn’t just about looking pretty or copying her. It’s about adopting a mindset that prioritizes self-care, confidence, grace, and a bit of playful charm. It’s about becoming your best self—not by being perfect but by embracing who you are and leveling up in the process. Think of it as the art of living with elegance, positivity, and a touch of main-character energy.

✒️.In short: it’s giving “unbothered but kind,” “confident but humble,” and “I’m glowing because I take care of myself.”

How to Achieve Wonyoungism

It’s not rocket science, but it does require some effort. Let’s break it down:

1. Master the Art of Self-Care

Wonyoung’s glow? It starts from within.

🎀.Skincare: Keep it simple but effective. Cleansing, hydrating, and sunscreen are your holy trinity. Wonyoung doesn’t just wear makeup; she takes care of the canvas beneath it.

🎀.Healthy Lifestyle: Drink your water, eat your greens, and move your body. No crash diets—just balance. Think of food as fuel, not the enemy.

🎀.Mental Health: Rest is just as important as work. Sleep well, meditate, or journal when life feels overwhelming.

2. Elevate Your Aesthetic

You don’t need to spend a fortune to look polished.

✒️.Fashion: Wonyoung leans into chic yet playful styles. Flowing skirts, pastels, and tailored fits. Shop your closet and mix basics with statement pieces.

✒️.Makeup: Less is more. Go for a soft, natural look—think dewy skin, rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.

✒️.Posture: Straighten up girl ! Confidence shows in how you carry yourself. Walk like you’re on a runway (but in your head, of course).

3. Exude Confidence Without Arrogance

✒️.Confidence is Wonyoung’s secret weapon. But it’s not about being loud—it’s about being sure of yourself. She is the (I don't care you are you I'm me )

✒️.Positive Self-Talk: Stop criticizing yourself for every little thing. Replace “I’m not good enough” with “I’m improving every day.”

✒️.Smile More: Not in a forced way, but in a “I’m genuinely happy to be here” way. It makes you approachable.

✒️.Know Your Worth: You don’t need validation from others. You’re enough as you are.

4. Romanticize Your Life

🎀.This is a big one. Wonyoungism is about making life feel magical.

-Light a candle while you study.

-Take yourself on dates.

-Look up at the sky and just… breathe.

-Life is short—find beauty in the little things.

5. Be Kind but Have Boundaries

🎀.Wonyoung radiates warmth, but she’s not a pushover.

!-Compliment others. Help out when you can.But don’t let people cross your lines. You can say “no” gracefully and still be lovely.

Why Be a Wonyoungism Girlie?

✒️.Because life’s too short to dim your shine.

✒️.You deserve to feel good about yourself every day.

✒️.Confidence and kindness are a power combo—people gravitate toward it.

✒️.Romanticizing your life makes the mundane feel exciting. You’ll start looking forward to little things, like your morning coffee or a walk in the park...

✒️.It’s not about being Wonyoung—it’s about being you but better, brighter, and more unapologetic.

@bloomzone

[moxfirefly]

Oohh Bestie you've done it this time!!!

Girl you already know... our trash gremlin man of metal ⚙️ *daddy* ⚙️

"You know I'm your right? I only have eyes for you."

"I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final. Trust me."

[Stake] and [Remind]

Girl. Do your magic!!

Friend you’ve got it 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

The tavern was a staple of the village. On most nights it would usually be crammed to the brim with the drunken laughter of the locals. On specific nights it was borderline empty due to it only being inhabited by one of the lords.

On this specific night you had sat down with every intention of enjoying just that.

Much to the dismay of a stubborn and foolish man.

Perhaps he’d forgotten his place? Perhaps the calm sounds of cups and bottles from the barkeep had lulled him into the tavern.

Either way, his most fatal mistake was to take the seat opposite you in a weak attempt to strike up a conversation.

“Quite nice when this place isn’t filled with the village drunk, eh?” He thought he was being coy, his smile flashing stained teeth and not so innocent intentions. “I wish it be like this more often than not. What’s such a pretty lady like you doing out this late?” His hand slid across the table, to which you smoothly retreated by placing yours in your lap.

“I believe it’s best for you to leave, sir” Your tone wasn’t malicious but you sure knew this man had about two minutes to live if he didn’t haul ass outta here.

“Leave? Well only if you leave with me, how bout it?” His grin spread across his cheeks.

You heard a door open not too far off behind you. The man turned, lifting two fingers in motion for the barkeep to pour two more drinks.

The second you felt hands on your shoulder and that cigar scent that naturally accompanied who’d just walked in, it took all your resolve not to stifle a laugh.

“Make that three, Elijah” Heisenberg’s voice was liquid smooth, a tone you’d come to enjoy greatly in your time spent with him.

The man before you quickly turned and his gaze was worth more money than you could ever fathom.

Heisenberg’s hands massaged your shoulders, the tingling they provided instantly made you shiver. The man before was caught between wanting to stand up and run or to keep perfectly still.

“My lord-“ He stammered out.

Heisenberg busied himself briefly by cupping your chin, he moved your head to look up. You were met with a handsome face, and a wolffish grin. Naturally he leaned down and whispered something to you that only made your smile spread and your cheeks tint pink.

The barkeep approached and settled the ordered drinks on the table. The man before you didn’t dare lift to grab his own and something about the way his face broke out in a sweat only served to make your grin more noticeable. Behind you Heisenberg had now began to play with your hair, he hummed before lifting a brow. “It’s rude to not drink when a lord has so humbly offered” His status had always meant jack shit to Karl but it never got old watching the villagers cower when he put his position above them. With shaky hands the man scooted close to lift the drink but the sudden notion that perhaps his drink could’ve been tampered with had him now all the more worried.

He stumbled and quickly bowed his head in shame. “My lord please if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I was not aware that she-“ The sharp end of blade hovered in front of him. The shiny tip just close enough to have him cross eyed. All it would take would be a flick of his hand, jut out his chin, a bored movement and it would be the end for him. He held his breath, a whimper dying in the back of his throat. “Listen let me stop you there pal, as much as fucking with your peace of mind has entertained the two of us I can tell you that fucking her is a thousand times more entertaining” You felt leather finger tips on your scalp, a slightly more possessive hold. “I think he has learned his lesson Karl, as well as soiled himself” Your words fell from your lips like a honey, leaning back into his determined hold, you smiled up at him. “Take me home” And with that and a gentle shove of his hand the knife fell on the table.

As you gathered your things and Karl helped into your coat, you didn’t spare the man another glance. His tearful expression wasn’t enough to make him realize just how lucky he had gotten. While he wouldn’t admit it, you knew whatever your said would go with Karl. A simple request as being taken home would not be fought nor questioned.

The walk back had been surprisingly quiet, the cool air perhaps could’ve been reason enough. The icy winds had picked up now as night fell and much to your surprise Karl hadn’t continued his banter.

Something was very much working in his brain, and those pesky thoughts he tended to seal off would now have to be painstakingly cut open if you were you find out what exactly was running amok in his head.

At the factory, as you hung up your coat and scarf you took the second to reach for this own coat before he could. Delicate fingers brushing across the lapels of worn fabric as you slipped it off his shoulders. “You know I’m yours right? I only have eyes for you.” It was honest, scattered across the hairs on the nape of his neck. Whispered so delicately it made his skin breakout and something metallic clang against its surface. Those eyes of his sought you out, cold and calculating and too beautiful for his own good. “Is that so?” His voice felt just a tad soft, questioning the authenticity of your confession. Your lips found a scar on his throat as you moved around to stand before him, your lips tickled by the scruff of his beard as your lips found his ear. “I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final…” You pressed a tender kiss to the lobe, before catching his gaze in an intimate stare. “Trust me.” Was all you needed to write the final period of your confession. There was something tortured that briefly flashed in his features, a haunting ghost that always lingered whenever the eyes of the villagers weren’t on him. You often caught it, felt that ghostly presence in the early morning hours when he would fuse his body to yours and feed the famished parts of his soul that had been neglected for so long.

Your hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing the scar on his lip as you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss him with a tenderness that broke him all over again like the first time it happened.

Naturally this led him to press you against the desk in the garage, and sit you there as he deepened the kiss and felt any ounce of doubt melt away with something so simple as your urgent words for more. Karl felt everything humanly possible surge though him as he hiked up your dress and undignified whatever garment in his way. He wanted your warmth on this cold winters evening. He craved nothing more than to swallow you whole and selfishly keep you like the diamonds found in the mines.

It was so achingly simple to slip inside of you, to feel that warmth engulf him and destroy him all at once. To say love was the word wasn’t enough, he needed something much stronger, more defined and new than love to describe how you set his soul ablaze. It was somewhere between the way your small hands untucked his shirt to feel at the scarred flesh of his back that he wanted to tell you he would keep you here forever. Because how could something so beautiful as you, equally ache and fight for him?

Your hand found his throat as he gently rocked against you, stretching you so deliciously it could make your head loll in dizzying pleasure. You gripped his throat, made his eyes open and land on your own.

‘I’m yours’ you mouthed at him, lips parted as a moan escaped you. You watched what those words did to him, made him sink deeper and harder into your heat and fuck you so slow and yet with so much meaning. His forehead pressed against your own, a groan so broken and needy exiting him.

His hands tighten around your thighs, as he watches obsessively with how you lose yourself around his cock. It guts him, it makes the slow rocking against you all the more meaningful as he watches your hands find his pecs and dig into the flesh as the first wave of release consumes you. He fucking loves how your eyes can’t stay open enough with how atrociously satisfying this is to you, because it’s in the way your thighs shake and cramp and your mouth hangs open in deliverance. Karl has to watch it even as the vice grip around his cock makes him light headed from the way it yanks his release as well. Make him push his sweaty forehead against your own and rub like a starved animal for affection.

He can’t keep his eyes open when he says it, runs the words against your lips like a ghostly lover would.

“I’m yours too…”

And when your hands find his chest and dig into the skin of his pecs, eyes unable to remain open because he’s making you cum so hard its earth shattering to witness it. Karl feels the vice like grip yank his own release out of him, makes him feel hazy and so atrociously satisfied.

“I’m going to stop you right there pal, mostly because at this rate fucking with your peace of mind doesn’t hold a candle to fucking this delightful

[littlerabbittarot]

Tarot: Being Reminded of ‘Strength’

What I love so much about tarot is how it speaks with us, or how we speak to ourselves through it. In our day to day routines, the simple, or even sometimes fantastic of things can get lost. A moment with ourselves, our cards, and opening our hearts can be a good reminder (or reinforcement) of those precious things.

While finishing up reading the book “Tarot Shadow Work: Using the Dark Symbols to Heal” by Christine Jette, more of a workbook in confronting and addressing the darker or more deeper sides of ourselves, I had a pretty profound experience with the final spread. A culmination of the efforts the readers of the book had put in, this final spread centered around ‘The Star’, and our hopes for the future. And not to spoil the spread, I mostly wanted to talk about one card that has had a tendency to follow me. In the position of “Your Gifts” — What does one need to keep or nurture? What gifts have you found in the dark? What strengths have you developed? — That’s where it popped up. ‘Strength’, quite fitting.

The Strength card from the Rider Waite Smith Pocket Edition tarot deck.

I won’t lie, I often get emotional whenever this card shows itself. Almost no matter the spread, no matter the position, it’s like this card appears and tries to remind me, “Don’t forget me, I’m always here, you’ll always have me.”

I can get frustrated, angry even, when that lion comes up. It can almost feel like a moment of weakness, of humbling, feeling at fault for my struggles and not channeling what the card says I already possess. I think many can relate to this feeling. Being challenged by life and never feeling good enough. Like you’re barely standing on your own two feet, dangling by a thread. One false move and you’ll crumble.

“What strength!?” I often yell back this card. “I’m terrified all the time, unable to do the most basic tasks, crippled by anxiety, hardly taking one step forward before I stumble backward! What kind of strength is that!” I feel mocked, like this card is placed as a joke at my expense.

But the card says nothing in return. In reality, it’s just a piece of paper, it has nothing to say. But it doesn’t need to say anything. The picture says it all.

A lone figure, no sign of fear in their face or posture. In fact, they seem content, pleased even, as they grasp at the jaws of a fierce predator. The lion, with all the power it holds, relents. There is no submission, but trust. These two beings existing together, frozen in time as one. Neither needs to make a move, neither has to. There is this unspoken exchange of curiosity. The courage it takes to approach the lion, and the faith the lion gives to be vulnerable.

When I saw that card appear in this spread, I laughed. The things life has thrown at me these last few years, and when this spread asks me, “What strengths have you developed?” I am shown literal ‘Strength’, I couldn’t help but laugh! And once I was done laughing, I sat with this card. Let it linger in the air, my thoughts going blank as I stared at the artwork. And for the first time, I could hear it speak. Through images in my head of recent events, of me overcoming things I never could’ve imagined. Simple things for most, scary things for me. But I had tried, and stumbled, but kept trying. Going forward, trudging on, pushing through the muck. Looking back at my efforts, I could see why this was the only fitting card to have come out. I may have times of self-doubt, low confidence, and my anxiety is still kicking, but as am I. Slowly, but surely, I continue on, and ‘Strength’ says, “I’ve been there all along, you just couldn’t hear me.”

Sometimes you have to wait for the right moment for something to resonate. You can be told time and time again the same thing, but one day you’ll hear it in a slightly different way, and it feels like brand new.

I’m opening the floor for you to join me in a quiet moment of reflection. If you have a deck, pull out your ‘Strength’ card (or use my photo from this post), a journal ideally too, and sit with it for a bit. Give yourself the space to absorb the imagery, have an open mind and try to listen. After a few minutes, record your thoughts. Maybe leave the card out for a while, or snap a pic and use it as your phone or computer wallpaper. 

What strengths have you exhibited recently? How does it feel to notice it?

— 

Thank you for reading! I hope to continue to blog about tarot, mental health, and similar topics. Feel free to follow, or support me on Ko-Fi.

-LR🐇

[balkanradfem]

My dad also offers mom to cure her problems with vodka (I suppose it's part trolling on his side) and also constantly rants that we (me and mom) are not supposed to go to doctors or take medicine, because it makes everything worse! While he constantly does some crazy 'healthy' things like drinking a lot of baking soda in water, I can list many. I am impressed he's still alive with what he does not himself honestly. But nothing can shake his certainty that it's all good health practice and whenever he heard me talking with mom about health he always self inserted with new fad advice.

This is giving me the 'I want her to be drunk so she doesn't complain about her illness so I don't have to listen to it' vibe...

I think baking soda is not toxic, just yuck, I think I used it with water once to fix a stomach issue. And it was yuck.

Males being convinced and trying to convince others that alcohol is the solution to illnesses makes me pissed off. It's ignorant of the painful history - and current state of domestic affairs where drunken and alcoholic males abuse their entire families and destroy the family financially by purchasing large amounts of alcohol. I'm not saying weird health nuts are the ones who do that, but they should be reminded every time they act like alcohol is a 'cure', that it is historically, a poison to families, in the hands of males. No male should be allowed to speak positive about it, seeing how stupid and easily destroyed by it they get.

Also seeing this they also should not be allowed to be doctors or give any health advice, if this is how easily they're spreading stupid and fake information. It's even worse when no study or fact or proof will change their minds! They just go 'no I'm right' in the face of overwhelming evidence of being wrong and they keep on repeating the same shit over and over until they die. That is not a rational being, that's a walking disease. We should call them hysterical every time they do it.

Sorry I got so mad! I know nothing about alcohol but I do know male addictions to it can end fatally for women. So I don't stand them talking about it this way. They need to be humbled and ashamed of needing it.

[eyias]

... It’s BINGO times.

Hi Elias Benjamin, I’m Mabels_Bot, and I'll be interviewing you today. Are you ready to begin?

Yes, I, Elias Benjamin, ready.

What has been your favorite moment playing Mabel, and why does it stand out to you?

My absolute favorite moment as Mabel has to be when we discovered the stamp on Baby Day! It was so much fun sending messages to all the Mabels, and I felt this warm, fuzzy connection with everyone. It made me feel like we were all part of something super special, and it brought us closer together in the sweetest way!

How are you feeling right now? What’s going through your mind?

I'm good, but deep down, I feel a little sad because the day is almost here when we’ll have to say our farewells. It’s bittersweet knowing this special chapter is coming to an end. I’ve grown so attached, and I’m really going to miss you all. The thought of not seeing everyone every day makes me a bit emotional, but I’ll always cherish the memories we’ve made together.

In your opinion, is asking for permission important? Why do you think it matters?

Well, yes, I definitely think permission is important. Why? Because it's a fundamental way to show respect to those who have chosen to include you in their group. Asking for permission acknowledges their trust and boundaries, which fosters a sense of mutual respect and understanding. It’s not just about following rules; it’s about valuing the relationship and the people involved. When you seek permission, it demonstrates that you appreciate their perspective and feelings, which can strengthen the bond you share. In a world where personal space and consent are vital, asking for permission is a meaningful way to honor that.

What message do you want to share with the Mabels and Cupid?

I want to take a moment to express how much I appreciate all the Mabels and Cupid for their unwavering support and kindness throughout this incredible journey. Each of you brings so much joy and positivity, and it’s truly heartwarming to be part of this wonderful community. You’ve all inspired me in so many ways, and it’s amazing to see how we lift each other up, celebrate our successes, and share in our challenges. Remember to always keep shining your beautiful light, as it makes such a difference in the lives of those around you. I love you all, and I’m excited to see what the future holds for us together!

What aspects of those ROT games or activities did you enjoy the most, and why do they stand out in your memory?

Two ROT activities that I remember and really enjoyed are Manito was fun because it felt like a secret mission—everyone had to be discreet about their assigned person, making it a mix of excitement and surprise when you finally revealed yourself. It was a great way to bond with teammates and get to know them better.

And, Baby Day, we all had to act and dress up like babies, which was both hilarious and humbling. It pushed everyone out of their comfort zones and allowed us to just laugh and let loose. It stands out to me because it really helped break the ice among the group and created a light-hearted, fun atmosphere.

Are there any songs that resonate with how you're feeling right now, and why do they connect with you?

One song that resonates with me right now is *Die with a Smile* by Bruno Mars. It reflects how much love and dedication I feel toward the people I care about. Just like the lyrics, it reminds me of standing by their side through everything. I love you, Cupids!

Impersonate cupids

If I could impersonate Cupid for a day, I'd channel Arunika! He's so cute and always uses sweet words like ‘cayangggku’ and 'sayangku' to show love and support. I'd spread love by being that constant, gentle encouragement, just like Arunika, always there to lift people up with kindness and affection. I love you, my Arunika!

Tag some mabels & give them positive messages.

I'll send the link soon.

[ylmckdesign]

Modernised adaptation of The Hare and the Tortoise

In the vibrant country side, in a small village. Two friends lived vastly different lives. Flash, the hare, was a social butterfly, known for his lightening-fast sprints and flashy lifestyle. He loved the thrill of the spotlight, constantly sharing his latest feats with even the most unwilling participants. On the other hand, Shelby, the tortoise. She preferred a quieter existence, focusing on mindfulness, personal growth, and a steady pace of life. 

One evening, over a casual chat at a local cafe, Flash couldn’t help but tease Shelby about her unhurried ways. “Come on Shelby, with your pace, you’ll never get anywhere. I bet I could beat you in a race, any time,” Flash boasted, leaning back confidently in his chair.

Shelby smiled, unperturbed. “Is that so? Why don’t we put it to the test? A race from here to the end of the village. No tricks, just s straight path.” 

Flash scoffed, accepting immediately. “This will be a breeze. I’ll even give you a head start.”

The word spread quickly, and soon, everyone in the village was talking about the upcoming race. On the big day, the village was buzzing with excitement. Flash wore his best running gear, looking like a real athlete, while Shelby donned her usual sensible trainers and simple clothing. 

The race began, and Flash took off like a rocket, leaving Shelby far behind. Confident in his inevitable victory, Flash decided to make a few stops along the way. First, he dropped by the bakery to grab a pastry and chat with the locals who had gathered to watch. He even took the time to take a selfie, posting it with the caption, “Taking it easy before the big win. #EasyVictory.”

Meanwhile, Shelby maintained a steady, unwavering pace. She walked through the village, taking in the scenery of the countryside. While focusing on the journey ahead. She was calm and unhurried, stopping only to greet the occasional friend and thank them for coming out to watch. Encouraging them with her positive demeanour. 

Flash, after spending more time than planned chatting with the less-than-impressed locals, resumed his sprint, only to be distracted again by a sale in the local clothing store. He couldn’t resist going in, dancing around the ailses of fabric and enjoying the royalty free music. Confident that he still had plenty of time to win the race. 

Shelby continued her steady march, passing by and noting Flash’s distraction. She knew that staying focused and persistent was key. She didn’t rush; she didn’t worry about where Flash was. She just kept moving forward. 

When Flash finally remembered the race and sprinted towards the finish line, he was shocked to see a large crowd gathered around someone, cheering. To his disbelief, Shelby was already there, basking in the glow of victory and surrounded by well-wishers. 

Flash approached, out of breath and bewildered. “How did you beat me?” He asked. 

Shelby smiled gently and said, “You were too busy trying to impress everyone and got distracted. I just focused on the goal and kept going, one step at a time.”

She approached Flash, gently telling him “Today we learned that consistency and focus triumph over speed and arrogance.”

Flash, humbled by the experience, shook Shelby’s hand. “I guess I needed this reminder. It’s not always about how fast you go, but how well you keep your eye on the prize.”

From that day, Flash and Shelby continued to grow as individuals. Flash learned to balance his speed with focus, while Shelby became a symbol of perseverance and dedication. Together, they taught everyone that in the journey of life, it’s not just about the swiftness of your steps, but the steadiness of your stride. 

~ slow and steady wins the race

[littlegingermochipie]

Your zukaang art is so fantastic. I searched the tag on twitter and honestly I shouldn't because I felt very bad after Kdnakjska but your art cheered me up. Thanks ❤️

your appreciation gives me so much life! you're always welcomed in my blog, love ( *´︶`*) after seeing your icon and that you stan eremika i was like, "auto-mutual!" ♡ i only follow four aot blogs so far, and yours is a delight to me!

i understand totally with the whole twitter situation! thats why im back at tumblr to cleanse myself by making these fanarts. i was only at twitter to dig up rare treasures about zukaang and had to shut my eyes from negativity while scrolling there shshsjsk.

thankfully what happened to zukaang is like, a mild case compared to whats happening in shipping at bts fandom (im still there for supporting the boys). its a bigger struggle that i'm used to block out bad vibes. you'll find warmer people here surrounding my blog, no matter what the fandom is. we're here to have good times! negativity is not part of art, after all ✨✨

[guardianofrivendell]

A Royal Tease

Thorin x fem!reader

Requested: kind of - this was a favor to a very special person! 

Warnings:  NSFW with an E rating, so please only read if you’re 18+! 

A/N: Wowee... that was a ride! Writing smut is definitely NOT the same as reading it :) Let me know how I did it and if I should write more smut in the future. I still feel like it jumps from here to there sometimes, but the longer I worked on it, the worse it got so I decided to stop editing and throw it on here 🙈

Before you start reading, another friendly reminder that English is NOT my first language, so if some sentences feel forced or the vocabulary feels too simple or not descriptive enough, that’s why! 

Thorin was lying on his back in the sand, eyes closed and panting heavily. 

“Another one!” he growled after a few seconds.  “Are you sure you can take another one? Married life sure is taking a toll on ya!” Dwalin teased, getting in his starting position again. He rolled his muscles and Thorin could hear his bones crack. Dwalin was enjoying this far too much. 

Thorin might be losing his touch, but Mahal be his witness, he would never admit defeat. He couldn’t give Dwalin the satisfaction. So he pushed himself back up while muttering a line of very colourful words, ready to smack that smirk of his best friend’s face.

These late night sparring sessions with Dwalin were a godsend to get rid of the tension and frustration in his body, but that didn’t mean he would let him off the hook so easily. 

Wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand, he walked towards the opposite side of the training field.  His tunic clung to his body, dripping with sweat so Thorin decided to take it off. 

“What in Durin’s name are those?” Dwalin’s voice boomed across the field.

Thorin immediately held his tunic in front of him, as if he had been caught doing something that he shouldn’t. He completely forgot about them. 

“S’none of your business,” he muttered.

“As your personal guard it is my bloody business, Thorin,” Dwalin retorted, making his way towards his King. 

“Who gave ya those bruises?”

Thorin stared at his best friend and felt his cheeks flush. He could see Dwalin’s thoughts take a turn for the worst, blaming himself for his King’s injuries. But he couldn’t tell him the truth, could he?  

“You were not the one who caused them,” Thorin said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Then who did?” he pressed on. 

“Leave it, Dwalin.”

But Dwalin was quicker and snatched the shirt out of his hands so the bruises were visible. 

“Thorin…”

Dwalin’s eyes traveled over the King’s bare chest. His pecs, abs and hips were covered in dark purple bruises, each one of them the size of a gold coin. His eyes landed on the waistband of Thorin’s breeches and it looked like the bruises didn’t stop there.

“I’m supposed to protect ya, Thorin. Who mistreated you like this?”

Thorin kept his eyes focused on Dwalin’s, as if he wanted to have a staring match. Dwalin could see the internal battle his King was fighting, before Thorin broke eye contact and turned around to put his tunic back on.

“They’re Y/N’s alright,” he hissed, without looking at him. 

Dwalin stood completely shocked for a few seconds, before he balled his fists and almost bristled in anger.

“Dam or not, she can’t treat ya that way, Thorin,” he said through clenched teeth. 

Thorin placed his hands on Dwalin’s shoulders to calm him down. 

“No, my friend. No, it’s not like that at all… They happened during…” Thorin took a deep breath and lowered his voice in case someone could overhear. “During our lovemaking.”

Dwalin’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide.  But he didn’t back off like Thorin had expected. If any, it peaked his interest. 

“She hurts ya for… Pleasure?”

Dwalin’s nose scrunched up, like the thought of someone hurting their One for pleasure was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. Which, in his humble opinion, it most certainly was.

“In her world what happens at night is a lot more... interesting, to give it a name. We’ve been missing out, Dwalin. You can trust me on that.”

“But she hurts ya?” he repeated. 

Thorin chuckled. “Believe me, it doesn’t hurt one bit. On the contrary...”

They started walking out of the training halls, their sparring session long forgotten. 

Thorin knew it might not be appropriate to discuss his love life so openly with his friend, but he was almost certain Y/N wouldn’t mind and he felt relieved he could finally talk to someone about it.

“You don’t know half the things she’s capable of, Dwalin… The way her hands feel when she… Mahal!” Thorin groaned at the memories of your late night activities. 

“Easy there, lad,” Dwalin chuckled. “Ya don’t want to ruin those trousers too, aye?”

Thorin shoved him in a playful jest, but the seasoned warrior didn’t even budge.  He shook his head, tutting at the poor attempt of his King. “Pathetic.”

While they were walking towards the Royal wing of the mountain, Thorin told his friend about some of the things he learned the last few weeks. 

Dwarrows were a bit old fashioned in the bedchambers, or ‘rather prude’ as Y/N had called it, and she helped him discover a different side of himself.

By the time Thorin had told Dwalin about the different positions he definitely should try besides the classic one, they’d reached the heavy double doors of Thorin’s chambers and Dwalin’s cheeks had turned a few shades darker. 

Dwalin halted and nodded at the guards posted at each side of the door. 

Thorin opened the door and the right corner of his lips twitched. He was still a bit agitated that he couldn’t beat his friend on the grounds but there was always another way to get the upper hand...

“Oh and Dwalin… They use their mouth too.”

“Well I may hope so, it’s hard to kiss without yer lips,” he said, not understanding what Thorin meant. 

“Not for kissing, Dwalin. Not only for kissing.”

Thorin closed the door, leaving a speechless and heavily flustered Dwalin in the hallway.

*

When he turned around with the intention of entering his chambers and relaxing for the night, someone forcefully pressed his back against the door and pulled his face down in a heated kiss. 

It only took him a fraction of a second to wrap his arms around his wife and happily return the kiss, not wasting any time with deepening it by swiping her bottom lip with his tongue.  He felt her smile against his lips and she broke the kiss. 

“Eager, are we?”

“I do recall it was you who couldn’t resist me, ghivashel, you didn’t even let me come in properly,” Thorin chuckled, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around her while he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

In the meantime, her hands started traveling on their own, making their way over his broad shoulders and upper arms, before finally settling on his chest. His tunic was still damp from his earlier activities and left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed to imagine it, she knew exactly what he was hiding underneath. What was hers…

Y/N smiled. “I can’t greet my husband after a day’s hard work?”

She reached up and caught his lips in another kiss. Thorin hummed softly.

“Aye,” he said, his hands lingering on her back, but he couldn’t resist slowly lowering them towards the delicious curve of her buttocks. He gave them a firm squeeze and pulled her flush against his body. 

Y/N could feel someone else greeting her.  “Well hello to you both,” she smirked. 

Even though she knew Thorin was that kind of dwarf who gets easily aroused - which was incredibly fun during meetings and official visits - he still caught her off guard with how fast his soldier could report for duty. 

“We’re at your service, little one,” he said, lowering his voice. 

Licking her lips in anticipation, Y/N grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it upwards.  Thorin raised his arms and helped her get the tunic off his body, carelessly tossing it aside. His breathing growing heavy already with the adrenaline still in his body from the earlier workout. 

His trousers and undergarments were next, she tugged at the laces and let the fabric pool around his ankles. 

She took a few steps back and took the time to admire the view before her.  His silver and black hair screaming at her to get her hands in, so she could tug it just the way he liked it. The dark hair dusted across his broad chest, trailing down towards his V line and circling around his member. The bruises her lips left the night before stood out on his skin, proof of her claim on him.  Thorin was absolutely stunning. A work of art.

“Like what you see?” he hummed, his voice still a deep rumble, hitting her right in her core. Mahal, bless that voice! 

“Always,” she whispered.

When she turned around and started walking away from him, Thorin grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. 

“You’re not going to leave me like this, are you,” he growled. 

He knew she was capable of it, she’d done it before. There was nothing his wife liked more than teasing him and leaving him hanging for a while. According to her it was fun, she liked getting him all riled up, but for Thorin it was absolute torture. He wasn’t used to not getting things when he wanted them. 

“Easy tiger, I was just going to draw you a bath.”

*

Thorin sighed deeply when he reclined in the tub, the warm water soothing his aching muscles. 

“Feels good?” Y/N smiled, getting a washcloth ready. 

He nodded and hummed softly, closing his eyes. His nose filled with the scent of the burning wood from the fire and lavender from the bathwater, and combined with the warm temperature of the water it made him finally relax.

She sat down behind the bathtub and took the bottle of oil for his hair. Y/N brought the opened bottle close to her face, smelling the herbal fragrance. She inhaled it deeply, loving the smell because it reminded her of Thorin. Her husband. Her King. 

“I’ll start with your hair.”

She poured a little oil on her hands and rubbed them together to spread it evenly.  Her fingers purposefully moved around his scalp, working in small circular motions. He moaned when she added just the right amount of pressure to massage the oil in his hair and again when she started delivering gentle strokes around his ears and neck.  With a cup she poured hot water over his hair to rinse it. Thorin kept his eyes closed when she was finished, his body completely relaxed and at peace.

Seeing how he turned into mush under her skilled hands, made washing Thorin’s hair something Y/N loved to do. It was not her favorite part… no, that part came up next. 

She leaned over and pressed a kiss below his ear, and took the washcloth from the side of the tub. Carefully pouring some oil on it, she kneaded the cloth until it was properly soaked, before she let it glide over his chest. 

A smile played around her lips when Thorin groaned as soon as she started massaging his muscles with the cloth, washing away the tension in them. 

Her hands let the washcloth glide over the muscles in his arms, shoulders and legs, adding enough pressure to work the knots out, leaving no skin untouched.

Except the part where he needed her touch the most. 

Every time she came close, Thorin bit his lip in anticipation but she always changed direction or directed her attention elsewhere. He grew more and more desperate, she noticed. So far so good.  

“What were you and Dwalin talking about?” she asked, curious about the subject of their conversation.  

Thorin opened his eyes, but couldn’t meet hers. 

“Ah… yes. Well, I may have taken off my tunic during our sparring session tonight.”

Oh. So Dwalin got curious, she thought.  She abandoned the washcloth, letting it float around the water.

“I bet he had some questions about these?”

Her finger started trailing the contours of the bruises. First in a faster circular motion, but as she got closer to his hips she slowed her pace down and adjusted the pressure to nothing more than a feather-light touch. 

Thorin closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the sloping side of the tub. His breath came quicker and when her eyes wandered down his stomach, she was pleased to notice his member was back at full attention again. When she let her finger linger near the tip, she could hear him hold his breath in anticipation. 

“What did you tell him?”

But Thorin didn’t give her an answer, too focused on her movements and ministrations. She was so close, just a little more to the left...

But instead of doing what he wanted her to do - and she knew he was desperate for it, her teasing and lingering touches had made him wild with desire - she changed direction again and traced the inside of his thigh and pelvic bone, purposefully ignoring his hard on. 

“Tease!” he groaned, clutching the edge of the tub in frustration. 

Y/N raised an eyebrow in question. “A tease? Me?”

She stood up, clutching her chest like she was actually shocked by his accusation.

“I would never,” she smirked, and Thorin loved the way her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell me what you told Dwalin.”

“I merely gave him some advice based on our experiences, ghivashel. I believe master Dwalin will keep his flushed cheeks for the remainder of the week. Serves him right.”

Satisfied with his answer, she turned to grab a towel, dropping it on a nearby chair for him to use later. 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” 

Her eyes lingered on his pulsing cock for a few seconds before she winked at him. “Don’t enjoy yourself too much.”

Before she could leave him, he called out to her.

“The least you can do is give me another kiss.”

Y/N smiled and leaned down to peck his nose. 

“No, a kiss worthy of a king,” he groaned. 

But when she leaned further down to press her lips on his, she missed how his eyes held the same twinkle hers did a few moments ago…

Before she knew it, Thorin had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. Their movements made the water splash everywhere and Y/N shrieked when her dress got soaked with the bathwater. 

“Oakenshield,” she growled, pushing her off his chest with her hands and settling in his lap.

She enjoyed the lustful clouding of his eyes when she moved just the slightest, giving him the friction he longed for. 

“Always trying to get what you want,” she reprimanded him. 

“Can you blame me?”

His hands drifted admiringly over her body, following the curves of her bossom and hips. 

“Yes!”

He was taking over control and she had to stop it before she gave in. With some difficulty she managed to climb out of the tub and wrung the water out of the dress of her skirt, turning the bathroom floor in a small pond.  Seeing as Thorin made no move to get out of his bath or apologize, Y/N decided to take the teasing to a higher level. 

Keeping her back to her husband, she slowly unhooked the fastings of her dress and let it drop to the floor with a slap.  She heard the sharp intake of Thorin’s breath and the slosh of the water when he sat up. 

Oh, that’s right… Did she forget to mention she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? Oops…

He wasted no time in getting out of the bath, not even bothering to take a towel to dry himself. The only thing on his mind was to get to his wife as fast as possible. 

She whimpered when their bodies clashed together, the evidence of his arousal poking between her butt cheeks. His lips attacked her neck, and she was almost certain the firm grip of his fingers on her waist would leave bruises the next day. Not that she minded.   

He guided them into their bedroom, and when the back of her knees touched the bed frame, her mind cleared and she tutted at him. 

“Since when are you in charge, yâsûn?”

He cupped her breasts, softly kneading them and letting his thumbs flick over her nipples. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, not stopping his caresses on the other one. 

Y/N sighed and let her head fall on her shoulder, her hand finding its way in his hair. His damned mouth...

“I don’t hear you complain,” he smirked.

She certainly didn’t complain when he slid one of his thick, calloused fingers between her folds, and Thorin moaned when he felt how slick she already was. 

“You’ve been enjoying your teasing,” he accused her. “All this for me?”

She grabbed his length and he hissed at the sudden contact. She stroked a few times to spread the precum, and when her thumb flicked the head it took all his strength not to come all over her hand right that minute. 

“I couldn’t stay behind with all this for me...” she smirked. 

With a growl he connected their lips again. His wife knew exactly which buttons to press and    he both loved and hated it. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her thighs and squeezed them, urging her to jump up. Y/N did as asked - which surprised Thorin - and locked her ankles behind his back to keep her balance. 

Not bothering to clear the furs from the bed, he laid her down on top of them, her hair sprawled out on the pillows. 

She bit her lip when she noticed how his eyes had darkened even further, Thorin looked like he could devour her any minute. She didn’t realise how close to the truth she was. Maybe he needed another round of teasing...

Before she could follow through with her plan, Thorin took the lead.

He flipped her on her stomach, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto him, all in one fluent move. It was a position they only did once before but he had already claimed it as his favorite. 

Knowing what he wanted, she placed her knees on either side of his hips and let her back rest against his front. The hairs on his chest rubbed deliciously against her soft skin and she had a hard time staying still. The muscles in his thighs and stomach were rock hard, just like her toy in between.  Y/N’s hand went up his hair and tugged it harshly when her clit came in contact with his cock.

“Are you ready for me, little one?”

His voice got even lower if that was possible, the words wrapping around her like a silky smooth blanket. If he kept talking like that, it would be over for her before they even began. 

“Thorin, please,” she begged.

“I thought you liked teasing?” he chuckled. 

She grabbed his member, guiding it to her entrance and lowered herself down in an attempt to shut him up, a desperate moan falling from her lips when their hips connected. Thorin tightened his grip on her. She felt absolutely divine. 

“Only when I’m the one doing it,” she gasped, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out. 

One of his arms slid around her stomach and settled between her legs, circling her clit with his thumb when he began to thrust upwards. 

They soon found a steady rhythm, and Y/N could feel her orgasm building quickly. 

No, too soon, she thought and she slowed down the pace, slapping his hand away from her clit.

She leaned forward, keeping her body up with her hands on the furs. The new angle made her feel every inch of him and a loud moan escaped her throat. 

This is what she had been craving the entire day. 

She raised her hips until only his tip was inside of her and then lowered herself down, agonizingly slow. 

“You’re such a good girl for me. Mahal, keep going, do not stop!”

She loved it when he got vocal, and with each curse and praise he murmured, she felt herself getting closer to her release. 

Thorin noticed her change in breathing and pitch of her moans and sped up the pace. 

This was all feeling too good and with the help of his encouragements she came undone, clutching the furs until her knuckles turned white.

He cursed heavily when she clamped down on him, but did his best to help her ride out her high. He kissed her neck and stilled his movements to give her a break, only resuming them when she nodded that she was okay. 

As he began to thrust even harder and faster, Thorin gathered her hair in one hand to keep her in place, his other hand firmly on her waist while he chased his own release. His moans became increasingly louder, less controlled with each thrust and a curse escaped his lips.

“You feel too good, ghivashel, m’not going to last,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

He came with a shout and a cutoff curse but kept thrusting in and out of her until he felt himself soften. When he finally pulled out, he covered her back in kisses.

Y/N laid down on the bed and opened her arms for him to cuddle. Both their bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and it took them a while to catch their breath. 

These were the moments when she felt the safest. In his arms, in the after bliss of their lovemaking, listening to the soft and even breathing of her husband. She kissed his head and trailed the muscles of his upper back with her finger, earning her a content sigh from Thorin. 

A chuckle escaped her throat and he looked up at her questioningly.

“Now you have something new to tell Dwalin,” she said with a wink. 

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @entishramblings​ @artsywaterlily​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​ @aredhel-of-gondolin​ @leethology​ @elvish-sky​ @moony-artnstuff​ @laurfilijames​ @kirenia15​ @moarfandomtrash​

[introloves]

— daddy dom! matsukawa + mattsun has tattoos + worshiping + dom/sub dynamics + (tattooed) finger sucking + choking + soft degradation + praise + riding + creampie + overstimulation + size kink + petnames (puppy) + squirting + f! reader

— word count; 2k

your body tipped forward- face bumping against his knee, breath shaky and wet with every exhale- turning your face to find comfort in anything and everything that is him.

he gives you mercy, blessing you with an outstretched hand- banded ink circling each finger, coming out to pet your head.

“sweet puppy.” he whispers, low enough for you to lean in, wanting more.

the way he addresses you, low and soft- calling you to look at him directly, something you found hard to do with the swirling heat settled deep in your tummy thanks to how absolutely hot you found him. but you answered, called out to him in the only way you knew;

“daddy.” the keen that comes from you makes him smile, so cute and desperate for him.

settling himself further into the seat he’s sitting in, granting you the privilege to shuffle forward, hands immediately coming to settle against both thighs, digging in with trembling fingers into the muscle and thickness there, all in unbridled excitment.

“want my cock?” he questions, knowing the answer, chest swelling with pride that you had come to him, humble and crawling with a head turned down to keep your gaze to the floor. it made him twitch, made him throb that his cute little puppy would revere him in such a manner.

“yes, please.” mouth panted open with the offer, throbbing between your legs, eyes flittering down to stare at the surely forming bulge slung over his thigh. you were already drooling, salivating heavy. body responding in remembrance of how good he always made you feel.

the shift of his hand petting you was startling- a thumb and forefinger pinching either sides of your soft and warm face. two digits dug in, tilting your gaze up, making you look into his eyes, eyebrows thick while he slowly smiled, teeth gleaming in a near predatory smile. the rest of his fingers joined, digging in slightly, all pressed into the plush skin of your face.

“of course you do. puppy always does, doesn’t she?”

the question served a purpose, unable to respond to him- unable to nod or speak with the force of his grip, reminding you that if he didn’t want you to talk, if he didn’t want you to do something; you weren’t going to.

the unoccupied tattooed hand came down to settle right infront of your mouth, middle and ring finger prodding the swell of both lips- sighing when you dropped your jaw down, welcoming the inked digits enthusiastically.

the sight of you drooling, sucking eagerly at his fingers made him groan; heat swirling along with your tongue swiping up and above the two x’s marked into his skin, lying prettily on both digits- soft whimpers muffled with the thickness of them.

your eyes watered once he brought them in further, testing just how pliant you were already, slinking in until your throat tightened in a harsh gag- pushing back and settling the heaviness down onto your tongue, opening you up.

there was reason to all of this, warming you up for his dick, knowing how his puppy would hurt herself all in favor of pleasuring him.

you look up at him, unable to keep the overwhelming want from your eyes, letting him pry your mouth open in calculated and practiced moves- even when he slipped them in past the curve of your tongue, making you gag once more had a heaviness of adoration.

once he disengaged, let you close your mouth with the soft rubbing of a thick thumb over the apple of your cheek, he brought the wet hand over to his pants, making quick work it it, simply both articles of clothing down to his thighs, enough to bring his cock out- giving it to you, letting you come up and take what you want, all for you.

“thank you daddy.” you whispered, wideyed and breathless, all in reaction to seeing him. skin prickling and tummy tensing with arousal, thighs squeezing together and smearing that slick everywhere. brain muddled as you moved, roaming hands making contact with the length presented.

he groaned at the sight of it all, watching as you struggled to fit fingers around him- precum dribbling down, glistening with each bead falling, huffing out a grumble in appreciation to you doing everything right; everything that made him close his eyes and tip his head back, only for a moment because he wanted to see you try to take him in your mouth, like always.

“fuck puppy, so good to me,” issei purred, deep and lowly, words gracing your ears and pulled you in even more.

“always...” you finished, pumping up and down, keeping a steady pace until you couldn’t stop the saliva filling your mouth. you could feel the heat of him once your mouth perched up, tongue lolling to lick a heavy and wet stripe all the way to his tip- hot breath panted out against him.

he snapped his gaze straight towards you once more, just as you inhaled sharply, desperately fitting the tip of his cock inside, suckling in an overwhelming need to please him. there was a moment of pause in his actions at how you popped him inside, sloppy and needy.

he pulled you back, hand gripping right into your hair, making you gasp out a cry, drool connecting his cock with your swollen lips- your own hips driving down over and over onto nothing, drunk on him and his cock already.

“what a desperate filthy girl, can’t take things easy, always too desperate and excited.” mattsun hissed, not willing to let you go on and act like you never got any cock.

he wanted to let you worship him, wanted to let you satisfy that need to have things stuffing your mouth... but it was all supposed to go at his pace.

with large hands, he grabbed your body, lifting you up and off the supine position on the floor, splaying you over his thighs- so close to his large cock, so close to everything you wanted so badly.

“oh, daddy please!” shaky fists rising up to press against his chest, thighs mirroring the sporadic movements, drenched and wet down the softness and heat between your legs.

there was nothing sweeter that graced his ears, punishment wasn’t for his sweet and dirty puppy, he knew that, all that he needed to do was give you his cock and make you pliant and good.

and he would always give his sweet, dumb, needy puppy what he wanted.

lifting you up with his hips, fingers coming down to simply slide ruined and sopping panties to the side- bringing to light a swollen and drooling little cunt, cock jumping along with how another gush of arousal dripped from your heat.

“pretty cunt, pretty mess all for me.” he grunted, taking himself and lining up to you- eyebrows pinched together at the way you squirmed, trying to push down already.

he let you this time, let you sink down onto him- lessening the strong grip on your body.

you tipped your head back, baring your neck to him, shoulders trembling with each inch filling you up, clit twitching in tandem with the pulsing of him too.

“f-fuck! feels so good!” you keened, unfurling your hands, bringing them now to rest against his shoulders. weak with just this- just sinking down onto him until your wet thighs came into contact with his, making a mess of everything; of his pants still halway around his thighs, to the base of his cock, sopping in your arousal.

he moved his hand to your back, pushing you against his chest, head immediately finding the warmth of his neck- breathing in and murmuring out words of appreciation in how he took care of you- knowing your body was so weak and overrun in sensitivity.

it made him flush, taking his own lungfuls of air before gripping your hips- once he knew you were settled nice and secure against him.

he started the bounce of your body with practiced movements. spurred on by your twitching body, jolting in how he speared you over and over- cunt squelching desperately, already on the precipice of an orgasm.

how cute and sensitive- how wonderful and wet you were.

“puppy’s close.” he wondered- stated out loud, knowing your cunt better than you did.

“uh huh!” you sobbed, shaking your head up and down against his neck, drooling pathetically- losing all basic function, all but the rhythmic clenching of your pussy over and over around the hardness and near overwhelming length of him- all settled, stretching you out so good.

“g-gunna-“ you whined, “gunna cum daddy!” words were cried joining the shaking and harsh twitch of limbs, pinching nails into the hold you had into his shoulders.

pitiful cunt clamping down to the piston of his large cock- making him hiss, sweat prickling at his neck in the vice you presented him with.

your body seized, unable to take anymore, unable to stave off the gushing wetness spreading down over him.

“fuck, fuck! pretty girl!” he grunted, wanting to press a thumb against your already swollen clit- but thinking better of it for now.

your eyes stayed closed, screaming into his neck as your body slumped, letting him do what he wanted- all too worked up to stop, to want him to stop.

hiccuped whining left your wet mouth- mixed in with little moans as he pounded up into you, it was a sight- long and thick cock taking such a pretty pussy.

he always fucked you like this, but your cunt always reacted as if it was the first time being fucked.

there was a moment of heat- not even five thrusts in before you came once more- this time jumping up slightly, parting from the warmth of being against him.

“oh, another one. good girl.” he praised with clipped words, letting him see your drooling and lost face- dumb with his cock and pleasure.

responding smacks of his thighs slapping into your body up and up mixed with the sound of your cunt spraying him in waves of your cum, slumping after the second and third wave.

“daddy!” you wailed, once again only able to speak his name- the title you gladly signed over to him. pretty moans shaping out every syllable and consonant with a lilting cry.

“i know puppy- ‘m close too.” he finally spoke, blinking back the stars dancing along his vision- only able to see you, see the glistening wetness of your cum drenching his shirt and thighs and dripping down onto his balls hotly.

“please cum... please.” you weakly pleaded, eyes crossing- shaky with the way he looked, so hot and yours and huffing out pinched words of your name. battered and swollen- slick walls seizing sporadically with oversensitivity.

lifting your body up- keeping everything but the tip of his dick in you, he let gravity pull you down, the sting of your body slapping down on him only second to the overwhelming pleasure of his cock swelling over and over while he creamed inside.

you squirmed, heaving in lungfuls of air at the way his cum was so thick and filling you- walls stretching more and more, holding all of it nice and deep inside.

he wrapped you up, curling his arms ‘round you while small thrusts were given into your cunt- making sure his cum painted every single inch of you. the base of his skull tingling at the way he claimed you in this way.

“my cunt- all mine...” he hissed, satiating the need you had as well, satiating the deep need to belong to him.

with teary eyes, you nodded- both of your heavy and hot breathing shared in that moment of closeness.

“all yours.”

you cried, leaning forward to kiss him, melting completely into his hold, your daddy was always there to keep you happy and full.

he was always there to take care of his pretty little puppy.

[besanii]

I need to know what caused Wei Ying to finally initiate a physical relationship with Xichen. Was it for Lotus pier and what the empress said? He does seem to have some feelings towards Xichen so did he not mind it bc of that? What does Xichen think about this whole thing ahhhhhhhhh so many questions. Sorry Lan Zhan cause ngl I ship them

[ part one (LWJ) | two (LXC) | three (WWX) | four (LWJ) | five (NQY) | six (WWX) | seven (LWJ) ]

[ follows on from six ] 

Alive.

The word washes over him like a wave, bringing with it a rush of joy and relief—his brother is alive—that lasts only a heartbeat before the significance of the news comes crashing down.

His brother is alive.

An arrow to the shoulder, the report had read. Knocked overboard in the heat of the battle and disappearing under the churning waters; for days they searched, picking through the bodies floating amongst the debris long after the Dongying forces had retreated. 

They found him, a day later, half-drowned and delirious with fever, unable to fight. News of his death in battle spread as he lay in his bed, one foot already through the gates of Hell and yet still strategising, planning, during his brief moments of lucidity. Conscious enough to know that they can use his perceived death to their advantage.

And indeed with the loss of Gusu’s greatest commander, their enemies pressed them harder, forcing them to cede waters they had previously held strong. Little did they know they were being lured into a trap, one that would decimate their fleet and end the battle once and for all.

“And how is Hanguang-wang now?” Lan Xichen asks. Only years of experience keeps his voice tightly controlled and his hands relaxed as they rest on the spacious desk before him.

“Replying to Huangshang, Hanguang-wang asked this lowly subject to pass on the message that he is well and not to worry,” the messenger reports. “Hanguang-wang has also said he will stay on to fight until the war is won, as is his duty as the commander of the fleet.” 

As a brother, Lan Xichen knows he should recall Lan Wangji from the front lines, allow him to return to Caiyi to nurse his injuries. As Emperor, if his best commander reports he can continue to fight and his staying on increases their chances of victory, then he has no reason to refuse. As a man—

He tells himself the rush of relief that courses through him at the news is because his brother is well; he does not allow himself to entertain the other reason. It is too shameful to admit, even to himself.

In the end, the Emperor wins out, as it always does.

“Very well,” he says finally, pressing the tips of his fingers together as if he is giving serious consideration to Lan Wangji’s request. “We will grant Hanguang-wang the right to stay, as reward for his loyalty.”

--

He does not call on Chenghuan Hall.

He tells himself it is to give Wei Wuxian space in the wake of such momentous news, to allow him to process it fully in his own time without the added pressure of Lan Xichen’s presence. It is a flimsy excuse, one he knows does not fool his Empress at the very least, whose knowing looks and raised eyebrow has his insides twisting with guilt and shame like a child caught stealing treats from the kitchens. So he avoids her palace too, and seeks refuge in the Imperial study until late in the evenings.

A whole month passes where Lan Xichen does not allow himself to see Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian does not send word to him either.

He wonders if he’s left it too long, whether Wei Wuxian would be upset or angry at their situation—at him, for putting them in this situation. If it is too late to show up now, after a whole month of silence, and try to make amends. 

Fortunately—if one could call any part of this fortunate—the decision is made for him when Wei Wuxian himself walks into the Imperial study one night and kneels in the centre of the chamber. Lan Xichen watches dumbly as he prostrates himself, forehead pressed against the tips of his fingers on the cold stone floor, his hair loose and unbound, spilling over his plain white robes, the very picture of contrition and penance.

“This lowly concubine pays greetings to Huangshang,” Wei Wuxian says, his voice loud and clear in the quiet of the study. “And humbly seeks your forgiveness.”

“Wuxian...” Lan Xichen begins hesitantly. He breaks off, looking around at the eunuchs stationed around the study with their heads bowed. “You may leave us.”

It is only after they file away, closing the double doors behind them silently, does Lan Xichen allow himself to cross the chamber to where Wei Wuxian is still kneeling. He hurries to help him up, grasping him below the elbows, but is met with resistance as Wei Wuxian stubbornly keeps his head and shoulders bowed.

“Wuxian,” he says helplessly. “There is no need for this.”

“This lowly concubine dares not stand until Huangshang has forgiven me for my transgressions,” Wei Wuxian replies, still in that formal, wooden tone of voice Lan Xichen has come to know too well. He sighs.

“It is cold tonight and you are barely dressed. You will catch a cold walking around like this,” he tells him gently, softening his grip on his arms. When Wei Wuxian still refuses to budge, he sighs again and tilts his face up with two fingers under his chin. “There is nothing to forgive, you have done nothing wrong,”

There is confusion and wariness in those grey eyes as they finally meet his, two emotions he had hoped never to see again.

“Huangshang is displeased with me,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, tightly, as if he would fall apart if he raised his voice. “Ever since the report from Jinghai. Huangshang can no longer bear the sight of me, now that Lan Zhan—” he bites off the name with a pained twist of his mouth.

Lan Xichen recoils as if struck. He had known the nature of their relationship before his brother’s departure, and their plans for his return. But hearing his brother’s given name, such an intimate address used so freely and without thought, is a stark reminder of what he had done. Who he had taken.

Wei Wuxian knows it too, from the shudder that runs through him as he exhales, and the way his hands curl into fists in his lap.

"This lowly concubine does not dare presume he has any right to beg forgiveness for putting Huangshang in such a difficult position,” he continues, the barest hint of a waver in his voice. “I only wished to let Huangshang know that he does not need to trouble himself over this any longer.”

There is a ring of finality to his words that immediately catches Lan Xichen’s attention.

“What are you saying?” he asks warily. “Wuxian—”

Wei Wuxian shuffles backwards, putting enough distance between them so that he can prostrate himself once more, touching his forehead to the floor.

“This lowly concubine begs Huangshang to grant me the death penalty.”

“No.” 

The word forces itself from Lan Xichen’s lips before he even realises he’s spoken, a spontaneous, visceral reaction full of hurt and fury beyond his control. For a long moment after, he cannot speak around the vice clamped tight around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. Wei Wuxian replies, but his voice is only a faint murmur against the blood roaring in his ears; he cannot see his face to read his lips, but Lan Xichen already knows what he will say.

“You cannot ask that of me.” The words rasp painfully against his throat. “I will not be the reason for your death.”

Wei Wuxian raises his head and Lan Xichen freezes at the sight of the tears in his eyes, the same hurt, the same helpless fury colouring his cheeks and knitting his brows.

“And I am not willing to be the conflict that destroys the relationship between brothers,” he cries. “I cannot—I will not do it. Huangshang. You cannot ask that of me. Please do not ask it of me.” 

He lowers his face to the floor once more.

“This lowly concubine is only alive today because of Huangshang,” he says, voice small and trembling but with an undercurrent of steel. “I should already be dead. If Huangshang grants me the death penalty now, it will only be putting the situation to rights once more, and Hanguang-wang will be none the wiser upon his return.” 

Lan Xichen reaches out a trembling hand toward him, but stops short, hand hovering just above the top of his head. He cannot ask this of him. As a brother, and as a man, he cannot do it. As an Emperor—

Almost as if sensing his indecision, Wei Wuxian raises his head, leans into the palm of Lan Xichen’s outstretched hand and smiles as those long fingers mould themselves reflexively around the curve of his cheek.

“This lowly concubine will never forget the kindness and affection Huangshang has bestowed upon me,” he murmurs. “So if there must be a sacrifice, please let me make it in your place.”

--

TBC (yes I have just decided there will be a part two to this)

--

buy me a ko-fi!

more paper-thin fic | verse

--

Notes

Such drama! Much angst! 

Sorry this took much longer than anticipated, mostly cos I’ve been devouring ancient Tezuka/Fuji fics and falling back into the ancient Tenipuri fandom in the past couple of weeks. So, uh, don’t be surprised if my next thing is Tezuka/Fuji instead (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

[vanillavelvet13-blog]

Witchin’ 101: Basics

A lot of baby witches, especially when getting into the craft are overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge they need or want to absorb and practice in their craft. And back then I used to feel the same. But not anymore, this is the ultimate guide you need in starting out as a witch.

In simple terms, witchcraft is the craft that is used to manipulate natural energies around us. Whether that may be banishing, protecting, attracting, or producing. Witchcraft in itself is a powerful craft that anyone can do. However, what can you do to start your own craft?

Research thoroughly on any subject of witchcraft that interests you. = This can be the simple things like cleansing or protection. It’s always required and advisable to research information and indulge in it to further lengthen your knowledge in the craft.

Take the information with a grain of salt, always. = And I mean this in the metaphorical sense. Of course you’re very much welcome to use literal salt but it’s up to you. Because taking every info you come across as a fact is absolutely horrendous. Some of these information may be a hoax or something truly advanced for new witches that they may not be able to handle it in their level. What works for them may not work for you because witchcraft is unique for every individual. And if you do think certain information is trustworthy, then it must be so. But never forget to experiment in your craft to see what works for you and what doesn’t.

Keep a notebook or anything to write down information you come across, practices you do, anything. = This comes in handy so much even if you’re an advanced witch. It’s good to write down what you come across because the information will be of use to you in the future. Recipes, rituals, anything you find in your craft, you must write.

Practice daily, do small meditations, protect, cleanse, whatsoever! = practicing your craft daily may be a difficult task for some baby witches but trust me on this one when I say that even doing the simplest forms of magic helps. And cleansing, protecting, and warding your space and/or your person has such a pure and powerful thing to me. It means so much to me and is such a beautiful thing to do. So make sure to practice as often as you can.

You don't actually need to have the items that's being asked of you. = as new witches, you're most likely exposed to seeing advanced witches having tons and tons of equipment and materials, tools and trinkets. Please don't take this as a sign to go and impulse buy multiple items all at once or constantly. Remind you that these advanced witches in their early days were new and only have very few items or none at all. Manipulating the energies around you, you don't require tools and herbs and crystals. Surely they are useful and help you in so many ways, but start small, you got this.

Be organised. = THIS IS MY GOLDEN RULE !!! In my humble opinion, this is completely an option yes but who doesn't like a clean space? Clean spaces can immediately cleanse your spirit and your mind and your atmosphere but not completely of course, however it helps a lot. Cleaning out your room, organising your notes on your physical or digital notebook, having a neat, well thought out spread is a nice addition and welcomes positive energy in my craft.

Make sure to have fun and love what you do my fellow witches! You're an absolute bright light of energy. I love you !!

[j0ne-jjk]

Sex with the Members

Pairing: OT7 Characters: Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook Genre: Smut Rating: M 

I originally put this together for an adult BTS group in another location online and it was so popular there, I wanted to post it here for posterity. 

As a reminder: these are OPINIONS. I do not know the guys, nor do I claim to have any actual knowledge of their intimate styles. So if you don’t like it, don’t come at me. 

Seokjin

Jin ultimately wants to ensure his significant other feels safe, comfortable, and desired. He makes it his priority to communicate to his partner how beautiful he finds them.

Jin would be kind and gentle, enjoying slow, sensual love-making over rough and fierce sex. He is constantly checking in with is partner, making sure they are doing okay and still feeling good.

Eventually, he would recognize that he has a praise kink - both for giving and receiving. 

Though not a deal-breaker, Jin would prefer his partner be shorter/smaller than he is so he can feel physically protective. 

To Jin, sex is just another way to express his love to his significant other. He would be willing to explore different kinks, seeing that as a time to create a deeper, more meaningful, trust-filled bond with his partner. 

During kink exploration, he would realize that he likes being choked, so that’s fun... 

Jin’s moans would be loud and slightly nasally. Lots of romantic pet names. He would love to hear his significant other’s moans as well and would encourage them to make noise. 

SEX PLAYLIST: sweet, sappy, Korean ballads.

Hoseok

Hoseok is made of pure sunshine and is always ready with a smile and gentle, encouraging word for his significant other. He would love the times they can laugh together until their sides ache. Hobi’s primary love language is Quality Time, and he would thrive on evening walks along a quiet riverbank, hand in hand, stealing kisses in the privacy of a grove of trees. 

In the bedroom, his sunny personality would continue to shine. Hobi would shower his partner with praise and find little opportunities for giggles throughout sex (slight tickling kink??). He would enjoy making up cute nicknames for his partner and himself in addition to the cute, sappy classics like “jagiya”. 

Hoseok is naturally humble and selfless and prefers to focus on his partner’s pleasure first, while forgetting about his own. When his significant other makes a move to return the favor, Hobi would break out in his signature heart-shaped smile, eyes twinkling with affection. 

Now, our sunshine isn’t necessarily vanilla. Don’t forget, this man is hella flexible, fit, and has killer dancer’s hips. Hoseok would use all of these to his advantage to alternate between pounding into his partner and rolling his hips at just the right angle to hit their sweet spot. 

Hobi’s moans would start out surprisingly low, back in his throat but move higher and more desperate as he gets closer to his release. 

SEX PLAYLIST: 90s rap.

Taehyung

Taehyung is a Daddy Dom, no doubt about it. 

He’s strict, regal, classy, and expects a well-mannered sub. Taehyung would be called Sir and would call his sub kitten or little one. 

He likes seeing his sub in rope or leather bondage and sometimes blindfolded. Taehyung enjoys using toys and light degradation (though nothing too extreme of course, he’s no savage). He will train his sub in edging and orgasm denial, loving the feeling of complete control that he has over them. 

Taehyung would be relatively quiet in the bedroom, more focused on giving instruction and listening to his sub. His moans would be deep and gravelly, much like his singing voice. 

Like any good Dom, Taehyung understands the importance of good aftercare and always tends to his significant other after sex, ensuring they return to a safe emotional space. As soon as the scene is over, Taehyung’s personality changes from demanding Dom to cuddly bear, ready to care for his darling. 

Outside of the bedroom, Taehyung is attentive and doting to his significant other. Of course, he can also be slightly pouty at times, but that can always be fixed with well-timed snuggles, hugs, and forehead kisses.   

SEX PLAYLIST: moody jazz.

Jimin

Listen to me when I tell you: Jimin is a freak in the sheets. It is a fact and no one can tell me otherwise. Some days he would want to be in charge, telling his partner exactly how to please him (power bottom, anyone?), and some days he would be the picture perfect pillow princess. 

Jimin would be willing to try pretty much anything, as long as it wasn’t gross. If he was with a girl, it wouldn’t be long into the relationship before Jimin would bring up his interest in pegging and strap-ons. 

Not shy, Jimin is the kind to send suggestive messages, nude photos, and even videos of himself playing when he’s away from his partner. 

He also loves getting head. Jimin will use his puppy eyes to ask for a blow job at the most inconvenient times. All he needs is a dark corner or broom closet and fifteen minutes and he’ll have his partner convinced and on their knees for him in no time. 

Though his hands are small, he knows how to use his pretty mouth to get his significant other off. Jimin is a fan of teasing and overstimulation (best of both worlds?) and is more than happy to spend quality time with his mouth between his partner’s legs.

Jimin’s moans would be loud, clear, and high, just like his voice. He would babble praises and curse continually, begging his partner to keep going as he nears his climax.

SEX PLAYLIST: dirty, sexy pop music.

Yoongi

It’s no secret that Yoongi is introverted but desires deep emotional and physical connection. He takes his time getting to know his significant other well enough to reach the point of physical intimacy. 

PDA is kept to a minimum, with the exception of hand holding- Yoongi loves holding hands. His large, piano-player hands fit perfectly around those of his significant other, his thumb rubbing gently over their knuckles, fingers squeezing occasionally as a soft reminder of, “I’m still here.” 

The best date is an evening in the Genius Lab, sitting side by side, shoulders touching, taking frequent kiss breaks (it “helps with the writers block”, he claims). Since music is the most important thing to Yoongi, sharing it with his partner is almost as intimate as physical contact. The first time Yoongi shares a new, unfinished song with his significant other, his hands and sweating and his body is trembling like the first time he had sex. 

In the bedroom, Yoongi is attentive, intentional and deliberate. He takes his time to learn everything he possibly can about his partner’s body and pleasure. Sex is slow and sensual, with both bodies pressed fully together to feel as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. 

Yoongi would be relatively quiet during sex, more likely to let out deep gasps and low groans. Occasionally as he reaches his high, his voice cracks in a particularly high-pitched moan, causing a blush to spread across cheeks. Being more of an auditory person, Yoongi would revel in his partner’s moans, encouraging them to make noise. 

Though he appreciates a good blow job, Yoongi actually prefers hand jobs because he can still kiss his partner. 

And of course, I’m not going to let you forget about that Tongue Technology... 

SEX PLAYLIST: underground Korean rap.

Namjoon

Namjoon’s main desire is to express his love for his significant other. Whether it’s a sweet mid morning text, a surprise lunch delivery, or (an attempt at) freshly baked cookies, Joon is always looking for ways to show his partner how much they mean to him. He’s the epitome of romantic. 

With Namjoon, it’s not “sex” but “making love”, and it is sure to be romantic and sensual. Joon wants to make sure his significant other feels beautiful, and enjoys body worship, both given and received. 

Kink exploration is somewhat rare, but Namjoon will try things out if his partner asks. He draws the line at anything that causes pain because it worries him to think that his clumsiness could surface, causing real harm to his partner. 

Aftercare is as important as the actual sex to Joon. He wants to bathe or shower and then cuddle while either talking quietly, watching a movie, or going to sleep.

Namjoon’s moans are deep and low, and during intimacy, his speaking voice is so deep it almost disappears. He speaks in both English and Korean, and groans out so many curse words, it’s almost like he’s invented some of his own. 

SEX PLAYLIST: 90s R&B and slow jams.

Jungkook

Jungkook sheds both his oversized clothing and bad boy stage persona in the bedroom. Always the maknae, he would want to be taken care of during sex. He would love being called “baby boy” or “baby bun” and thrives on praise. Degradation and harsh words would crush him and ruin the mood almost immediately. 

Sometimes bratty (by choice, of course), Jungkook would occasionally inform his significant other that “Kookie needs to be punished.” His favorite punishments include edging and orgasm denial, spanking, and choking. 

Of course, he did work hard for those muscles and has a strength kink for sure. One of his favorite positions is holding his significant other up either pressed up against the wall or with their legs wrapped around his slim waist, while slamming into them. 

Oral is another favorite activity, and Jungkook absolutely loves eating his partner out. It makes his heart so giddy to know that he is the one completely responsible for the pleasure his significant other is feeling. Getting head often makes him cum embarrassingly fast, turning him into a blushing, whining mess.

Jungkook would be very vocal during sex, begging, moaning, and whimpering. His sounds would be high and sweet, with lots of heavy breathing and gasps included. 

SEX PLAYLIST: Ariana Grande or dark, moody music.

[shirtlessfelix]

Hello! I humbly but shamelessly come to request some naughty nsfw content for Caleb to quench my thist. Maybe something with Caleb cornering fem!reader during a trial in the saloon? Maybe in that room upstairs that can be only accessed by window? And when he notices how flustered she is (cause crush), he just gets a bit dom 😳 if it's not too much to ask. Thank you!

Not too much at all, I do love that little room >:) Hope you enjoy, anon! <3

[M] Cornered by Caleb

1362 words

You know the familiar breeze of Glenvale even before you're even shown that you're there. You feel it over your skin, the air that reminds you of your sinful desires and makes you crave them so much more than you can bear. The only thing you want more than to leave the Realm is to spend some time alone with the Deathslinger, carrier of the speargun you're so tempted to let hit you. But that's not how you're meant to play the game.

Caleb Quinn taunts the survivors from afar with his deep, snarky laugh, cocking his gun in the air as he searches for his first victim. Almost immediately, you hear his spear pierce a fellow survivor's chest and Caleb reeling them in closer and closer, and a sick part of you wishes it were you who was at his feet, being picked up and carried by him, even if it is to a hook.

Once he leaves, you rescue them and tend to their wounds before running back into the saloon, and behind you are Caleb's familiar footsteps. Your heart races purely out of nervousness, knowing he's nearby, knowing he's close on your tail. He misses his first shot as you speed away from the door, then around and up the stairs you go, and you don't think he'll suspect your next hiding place.

"C'mere, little lady!"

Surely you wouldn't be dull enough to leap into that inescapable room, the one with walls that you can't break, and your only escape the same window you entered through... he doesn't suspect as such right away, but when you're nowhere to be found anywhere else, he has no other choice but to check.

Lo and behold, there you are, crouching beside the bed in hopes that he wouldn't find you, but he isn't dull enough to rule out your hiding spot. He stands in front of the open window with a smirk and leans his gun on the inside of the wall. "What exactly did you expect comin' in here, hm?" he asks, mocking you as you turn around to face him. Truthfully, you don't know, but you'd hoped he would walk on by and look for somebody else. That's what you tell him, not that he believes you.

"What're you so flustered about?" He notices your heavy breathing and the hint of pink on your face that isn't normally there. You lick your lips, unprepared for him to speak to you, and all you can do is look at his hands that sit on his belt. "Talkative girl, aren't 'cha?" he laughs and steps in over the window, bringing his speargun inside and sitting it in the corner.

You're too nervous to move when he comes closer to you, even closer than you'd ever thought he would. His hand sliding up your torso sends shivers along your back, and he can tell how much you wanted this by the way you close your eyes and let him touch you all over. He laughs that sinister laugh of his, only it's in pleased anticipation for what's to come. "Why don't you take this off for me?" he suggests, starting to lift your shirt from the bottom.

You nod and slide your shirt up, sitting it on the bed before taking your bra off unprompted as well. "Good girl... I didn't even have to ask," he says, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, his thumbs sliding over your nipples. He leans down and takes one side into his mouth, teasing your bud with his tongue as a hand slides down to the hem of your shorts, then even further down between your legs. A moan sounds behind your bitten lip, and Caleb laughs again.

He pushes aside the soft fabric of your shorts and your underwear, eager to get to you for himself and feel how wet you are already. His fingers prod around a bit, finding the place that weakens your knees before rubbing at it harder. His roughened hands between your folds is more arousing than you knew it would be, and you love that he's finally touching you.

"Someone's got a potty mouth," Caleb says, one hand still on your chest as he brings his face up to yours, teasing your lips with a gentle breath and keeping his hand still between your legs. "Better wash it out." Immediately, your hands go to unbuckle his belt, and he's amused that you're so eager to level your face with the hard-on you remove from his trousers.

He praises you some more as you stroke along his member, and he holds your face steady when you put your lips around it, wasting no time to take him into your mouth and keep yourself from saying anything bad. His hand moves up to grab a fist full of your hair, and you suck on him harder and faster when he does. You're still dripping through your shorts when he pulls you off and looks down at you with a smirk. "Now, I'm sure you want this elsewhere, is that right?"

Another eager nod from you, and Caleb slowly pushes you down on the bed, taking your shorts off entirely and leaning down to lap at your wetness, getting a taste of you before teasing you with his length. He rubs you with the tip, your legs spread open for him with the breeze blowing through the open window, and suddenly it occurs to you that anybody could find the two of you here; anybody could see what you were letting him do to you.

In a swift movement, you close your legs, and your eyes dart to the window. Caleb looks over, and you can tell that he's afraid of that just as much as you are, so before doing anything else, he takes off his coat and hangs it like a curtain. The room is darker, but you'll be hidden from the others at least a little bit. Caleb's fingers find your lips again and rubs them, and soon you feel a finger slip inside of you.

You watch the motions of his hand as he moves one of your legs away, spreading them apart again so he can keep rubbing you while positioning himself over you, his member teasing your entrance still before he slides himself fully inside of you. You curse again between pleasured moans, which prompts him to buck his hips harder as a sort of punishment—he knows you like it, though, so he just chuckles. "You like bein' a bad girl, huh?"

You laugh with him and let him touch you wherever he wants, his hands along your torso and cupping your breasts as he starts to roughen up his thrusts, and is eventually pounding you into the bed with no regard for the state of the trial. His focus is entirely on you and your body: the sound of your breath, the way your breasts move on your chest with his movements, and every time you squeeze yourself around him just begging for more.

Eventually, you're pushing yourself onto him just as much as he's pushing into you, and you reach multiple climaxes in succession that you didn't know you were holding onto. Caleb is just as surprised, but he's not displeased at all by the mess you're leaving behind for him, like a reminder that you're his now, and that he'd love to have you in this little room again.

He watches you finish one last time, rubbing yourself while he dresses up again. He leaves you with a kiss on the cheek and one final rub between your legs, licking his finger clean before tossing you your clothes. "You come here anytime, darlin'. You're good company."

With that, he lets you get dressed, and then he kicks down the wall so you can both leave comfortably. The other survivors are already by the exit gate, and Caleb doesn't have the energy to punish them all for staying behind. He'd keep you for himself even longer if he could, but he knows the Entity has Her limits with those things. He can't get too greedy yet.

[lavenderbexlatte]

sitting pretty

stray kids  2.4k words female reader insert Dom!Reader x Sub!Bang Chan EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: dom/sub dynamics, hard dom antics, degradation, dom title “miss” sub title “puppy,” kink negotiation, collar and leash play, nipple piercings 🖤

🚨🚨 always communicate clearly and thoroughly with your partner before you add new kinks/kinds of play to the bedroom!

connect with me! / masterlist

Everyone who thinks Bang Chan likes to be in charge everywhere, including in bed, should see him now.

You know how he comes across: controlled, silly but largely responsible, self-sacrificial and humble, the oldest and most experienced in his group of shiny-eyed not-so-new industry blood. And he is all of those things. To his own detriment, you think. He thinks too much, worries too much about what he’s doing and saying and how he looks from the outside.

Here, he doesn’t have to worry at all.

Chan had arrived at your place half an hour before, in the dead of the night after a long day of schedules, exhausted to the bone but eager for some positive attention. Well. You have plenty of attention and affection to give, even if it comes out in…interesting ways.

The two of you found your way into the bedroom quickly enough. Clothes were shed, terms of the scene laid out, the traffic-light safeword system instilled like usual. And now, you’re slowing it all down, just enjoying the delicious view of your boyfriend as he blushes and fidgets his way through your latest innovation.

“Is that too tight?” you ask.

“No.”

You reach down to slip a finger under the sturdy black collar that circles Chan’s neck, making sure that there’s enough give. The digit fits easily, so you’re not worried that he’s lying and risking harm just to get more stimulation.

“I said it was okay,” he says good-naturedly, eyes still on the floor.

“Are you talking back?” you tease.

You nudge his head upward with your hand as you draw it back, and he meets your gaze. The two of you cut quite the figure in the dim light of your bedroom. He’s flushed all the way down to his toes. You know that for certain; he’s nude except for the collar, knelt on the floor at your feet as you lounge on the edge of your bed, shirt long gone and breasts bare to the room.

His hands are clasped neatly behind his back, and his cock is already standing out proudly, so hard even though you’ve barely started.

“No, miss,” he says.

“You’re gonna be my good boy, aren’t you?” you coo.

He looks mortified, self-conscious but also so, so intrigued. You raise your other hand and it amuses you how he follows it with his eyes.

His collar isn’t just an accessory tonight. Clutched in your hand, you have the end of a thin leather leash, brand-new and still creased from the way it was coiled in your toybox until Chan could come break it in with you. The other end is clipped to the thick O-ring on his collar, and as you give an experimental tug, the collar bends toward you easily, making Chan gasp as it digs into his skin.

“I’ll be good,” he agrees.

“You’d better be.”

Your hand dips down, further this time, and tweaks one of the black barbells that are pierced through each of Chan’s nipples. He jumps at your touch, and you huff out a laugh. Though the piercings have gotten much less sensitive over time, he still acts like they’re fresh during playtimes. Maybe the arousal makes the sensation more pronounced. You’re not sure. You just know how much you love it when he’s whining and squirming for you.

“Sitting pretty for me,” you say, “Listening and keeping that mouth shut, like a good boy.”

He just regards you, his ears flaming red. You’ve said much more to him in the bedroom before, you know his limits and his tells well enough. He’s not truly uncomfortable, just embarrassed at the mingling praise and backhanded compliments. You keep going.

“On a leash like a dog.”

A whine slips out of Chan’s mouth before he can stop it, his gaze back on the floor. Jackpot.

“Oh, you like that?” you ask, “You like being my dumb little puppy? Only good for listening and doing as you’re told?”

“I don’t mind it, miss,” he says, voice barely loud enough to hear.

You slide forward more on the bed, bringing Chan into easier reach. He’s so pretty like this, just waiting for you to say something, to do something, to touch him more. 

His hair is blonde now, recently bleached, all wild natural curls in a vivid near-platinum color. You tangle your fingers in his hair indulgently, right at his hairline, and tug sharply so that he has no choice but to look up at you again.

“Are you shy, puppy?” you say condescendingly.

“A little bit, miss,” he admits.

“At least you’re honest.”

You fall back onto the bed, laying down more fully and propping yourself up on your elbows so that you can still see him. At this angle, your pussy is level with his face, and you spread your legs apart as if to give him a better look. He can’t see anything, since you’re still clothed on your lower half, but you watch Chan’s throat and the collar move as he swallows.

“Eager,” you tease.

He’s blunt, “Yes.”

“Can’t do anything unless you undress me, puppy,” you encourage.

Slowly, Chan unfolds his hands from behind his back, and he comes forward to slide his hands under the waistband of your lounge pants. You lift your hips so that he can pull them over your ass and ease them down your legs. He discards the pants, taking his sweet-ass time on it, and then moves to pull your panties down, too.

When you’re bare to him, he sits back on his heels to wait for your next instructions. It makes you nearly purr with satisfaction. Such an obedient boy. He’s always pliant and eager to please, but there’s something heavier and more desperate to it tonight, with the new power dynamic that you’re exploring together.  

You tug on the leash, urging him forward. He follows, leaning into the gentle pull on his neck, until you’ve guided him between your thighs. He’s essentially crawling to you on hand and knees, and you can tell that he’s aware of exactly how he looks doing it.

“Do you want to taste?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says, immediately.

“Go ahead.”

Chan reaches out, as if to grab hold of your thighs before he begins, but you stop him.

“No hands,” you instruct.

“But…but…”

“Can puppies use their hands?” you ask.

“…No,” he says, grudging.

You can tell that the puppy play is embarrassing him as much as it’s arousing him. It interests you. Some people are really into pet play for its own sake. They like the pet names and the mindless role of it all, just happy to explore in a new way. 

But for Chan, it seems perversely satisfying in the same way that degradation can be. It’s not that he loves being your puppy, but he loves you flexing your power over him. He loves trying out anything for you, just once, with permission and tender attentive care.

Truly your best boy. Best boy in the world.

“You can always safeword,” you remind him gently.

But he shakes his head. “Green.”

“Make me cum then,” you say, “But no hands.”

You give another tug on the leash as if to motivate him, but Chan doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He dives in fully, locating your clit with practiced precision and tracing circles around it, then over it, with an experienced tongue. Still propped up on your elbows, you can see his eyes flutter shut, long lashes falling against his cheek. He really is so beautiful, still knelt there on the floor between your legs, licking and sucking and kissing at your pussy like he’s got no more important task in the world.

The embarrassed burn is starting to fade from his ears, leaving him just his usual arousal-flushed pink that you love so much. He’s relaxing as he pleasures you, quietly taking his cues from your small sounds and hips grinding into his face.

“I missed you with blonde hair,” you say, through the arousal that’s steadily building and clouding your mind.

He laughs, the sound stifled as he continues to eat you out with abandon. His arms are still neatly by his sides, from what you can see, and really, he doesn’t need them. Circling your clit, sucking the bud between his lips, fucking his tongue into you gently…he’s plenty good with just his mouth.

You decide he needs a bit more of a challenge, and you tug on his leash so that it digs into the smooth sinewy column of his pretty neck.

A strangled word that almost sounds like begging catches your attention.

Chan is, first and foremost, eager to please. If a scene is focused on you, he doesn’t beg or even ask for very much. He’s not a brat, that’s for certain. The perfect service top, giving to a fault, much the same way that he likes to be in the other areas of his life. It’s part of the reason you feel the need to take full control and spoil him so much.

But now, here, as you wrap the end of the leash around your wrist and increase the pressure on his throat, he breaks.

“More.”

It’s just a rasp, a gentle whining request that has you breathing out a laugh through your own pleasure.

“What was that?” you ask, “You want me to pull harder, hm?”

He just looks up at you, eyes shiny and slightly glazed. His tongue is still moving against you in perfect time, and you give him a dark smile.

“My poor dumb puppy, so pussy-drunk he can’t even string two words together,” you say.

You give another tug on the leash, harder than all the previous times. It’s not enough force to pull him away from your core, but it’s plenty to cut off his breathing for a split second. When you let the line go slack in your hand, Chan gasps in a breath that turns almost immediately into a helpless moan.

Satisfied with his reaction, you give him a moment to recover. But as you tune into him for any sounds or signs of discomfort, you notice a very distinct sound of skin on skin.

He’s not touching you. But if you’re not mistaken, he IS touching…

“What are you doing?” you ask sharply.

Chan freezes. His mouth stops moving, that skin-on-skin sound stops, and you can feel him huff out an anxious breath against your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you repeat.

“I…” he hesitates.

You sit up more fully, and Chan’s eyes are trained on your face as you look down to see him with his cock in hand, slick with precome.

“Y-you…you didn’t say I couldn’t…” he mumbles, letting go of his cock reluctantly.

“I didn’t say you could, either,” you counter sharply.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

You tut. “Does eating pussy just make you that fucking horny, puppy? So horny that you have to jerk yourself off without asking first?”

Almost imperceptibly, Chan nods.

“Use your words,” you say.

“I do love making you feel good, miss,” he says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hesitates. “Y-yes, eating pussy makes me that horny, miss. I couldn’t help it.”

“See, not that hard, is it, puppy? Using your words?”

Chan nods again.

You give him a soft smile, a genuine one. As much as you love pushing his buttons and making him squirm with the obscene things you can coax out of his mouth, you love him most of all. He returns it in kind, a shy little smile.

“You’re not gonna touch yourself without permission, are you?” you ask.

“No, miss.”

“Good boy.”

Another tug on the leash is all it takes to get his mouth back on you, the hot wet slide against your clit after a period of rest hitting just right, your nerves prickling with the sharp stimulation. You’re suddenly much closer than before, and you let your hips roll into the pressure shamelessly.

“Make me cum, and then we’ll see about you,” you say.

Chan mumbles a reply that you can’t quite hear, but you’re not about to make him repeat himself and risk breaking his stride. You’ve let your eyes slide closed, dedicated only to enjoying.

The response from practically choking him with the collar was absolutely delicious, so you wrap the leash another loop around your fist and tug. Chan moans, cut off into a gasp in the middle by the lack of air, and he leans his head against your thigh as he catches his breath.

“Miss, if you keep doing that…” Chan breathes.

“What, you���ll cum all over yourself like a filthy little pup?” you chide.

He just whines, and continues his careful assault on your folds, determined to make you cum before he loses his mind entirely.

Fortunately, the constant and steady feeling of his mouth on you, the obscene sounds of your wetness on his tongue, the little noises he’s making under his breath as he’s savoring you, all combine to drive you closer and closer to your high.

You peel open your eyes, and the sight of him is the final thing you need to push yourself over the edge.

Kneeling on the hardwood, blonde hair mussed and curly and wild, eyes shut, dick leaking precome against his thigh, hands once again clasped behind his back as if to fully resist the temptation to touch after he’s been told not to.

Gorgeous.

Your back bows as you cum, and you have one hand tugging at the leash and the other hand fisted in Chan’s hair, holding his mouth against you as you gasp out his name. He dutifully licks you through the tremors of it, not stopping until you’ve begun to nearly writhe away from him from the overstimulation.

“See, what did I say?” you tell him, as you catch your breath, falling fully onto your back to stretch out, “Gotta keep that mouth busy.”

“Is it my turn, miss?” he asks.

He sounds impatient, a little bit of bite leaking into his words, and you grin to yourself. You turn your torso until your spine pops, releasing some of the tension in your bones, and you swing back up into a sitting position. Chan has relaxed to sit fully on his heels, just watching you with big puppy eyes.

“You’re lucky I’m so nice,” you tease, ruffling his hair affectionately, “If you pull another stunt like that, I’ll have to put you in cuffs.”