#i love them when they're cute i love them when they're sweet i even love them when they're big ol messes.

[arminsumi]

Another geto size kink vanilla smut please. I can't get enough. I always go back to reread yours it's so good

Oh, boyfriend Geto Suguru and his petite girl — who he's obsessed with.

+ warnings; size kink, panty-humping, some dirty talk

+ an; omg this was so yum to write, thank you for reminding me that Geto Suguru + a size kink exists 😋💗

Bf!Geto who's got one enormous hand resting on the small of your back during parties, his straight lips twisting into a grin when he looks down at you — a dirty grin that gets you tingly all over. Oh his heart lurches when you crane your neck to look back at him. As he commented when the two of you first met three years ago, "It's cute that you have to put in so much effort to look up at me."

... and pre-bf!Geto who used to randomly whisk you off your feet, big biceps twitching and flexing against your sides, as a 'joke' — yeah, yeah, it was just to surprise you. But he just wanted to have a sweet small girl in his arms, and wanted to show off how strong he was.

Just standing behind him and seeing his big broad back worked your imagination — how d'you think he'd look from the back while driving into your sloppy hole, how his muscles would flex?

And you know, Suguru was always aware each time you were staring even though you thought you were little miss slick, so of course he straightened out his posture — he had to remind you that he hits that 6'3 mark!

Bf!Geto's favorite thing is rubbing his thick fingers up and down your tiny clit through your innocent pink panties, making you shiver and twitch and whine in response to the subtlest friction as he's got you bent over his black-sheeted bed. It makes him smirk, it makes his cock stand stiff and upright in his pants, leaky cockhead dripping precum against his inner thigh.

It's in this bed that bf!Geto loves eating you out — of course, he likes to get you impatient, taking his time tying his hair up until you tug at the hem of his shirt and practically pull him into you for a hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that he just melts into. In minutes he's sliding down, big rough n' calloused hands prying your thighs apart, dragging you closer to his face like you weigh nothing — because you do weigh nothing to a big boy like him.

You're especially reminded of his size kink when he thumbs your pussy lips apart, or when he stuffs his thick fingers inside you, rubbing against your favorite spots like it's just a fun little game for him. Or when he thumbs your actual lips apart to explore your mouth a bit before sliding his fingers in — "Get 'em wet for me, baby." he murmurs, eager to feel your tiny mouth.

Bf!Geto loves squishing his cock against your slit, dividing your soft lips until they sandwich him. Of course, he acts so nonchalant, blowing his hair out of his face as he looks down at the pretty sight of your pussy getting dwarfed by his thick girth.

When his black, sultry eyes drift up to meet yours, you feel your stomach drop and your face heats up.

"Feel me pulsing, baby?" he teases, "Aw, sorry, I didn't mean to make you shy. No, come on, don't be shy — " he giggles, leaning in for a fat kiss. "You're so cute."

As the thick middle of his cock's sliding through your folds, his free hand meets yours and pins it down, holds it tight — did you see that? Did you catch the glimpse of his bicep twitching when he squeezed your hand?

bf!Geto still goes crazy each time you grind your pussy back on his cock as if it's the first time all over again. He lets out a hot breath, presses his cockhead tightly against your hole, and rubs so hard through your thong that he half-fucks it into your gushing pussy. They're totally ruined with gooey cum and sticky juices by the time he's done obsessively rubbing his cock against you.

And bf!Geto loves your tiny thongs, loves pulling them back and letting them snap against your holes when he's got you in reverse cowgirl.

And he just simply loves how much smaller your clothes are. When you and him weren't dating yet, he'd let you wear his big t-shirts or hoodies for sleepovers — only to choke and drool the next morning over the sight of little you in his big clothes.

bf!Geto's got thick, thick muscular thighs that press into the back of your plush, smaller thighs. And his long legs? He loved flirting joking "... I think I'm too tall for you — yeah we'd have a hard time having sex, huh?" long before you and him were dating.

And it's true. It's pretty difficult, getting railed by a 6'3 thick-muscled boy like him — that's why sometimes he just resorts to lifting you and fucking you while standing, weighting you against the wall with his whole body and each thrust of his cock.

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"

[solaiced]

CASE 28: CHOSO KAMO AND YOU SHARE A POWER!

!content!: blood, period sex..?, eating out, choso is uneducated and not beta’d, literally drinking blood.

wc: 1,002

solace: the formatting is sooo weird…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Choso, for his 150 years on Earth, does not know what a period is. Doesn't know why it happens, or how it affects someone. Sure, it hurts, he knows that. You've told him countless times. Cramps, you said.

But he somehow didn't understand that most people avoid having sex on these days, because, as you had explained, there's blood. Choso still doesn't get it. He means good. He doesn’t mind blood. But you did, apparently.

He thinks that you have connections to him and have a blood related cursed technique.

So you sat him down, one dreadful night, where you had your awful period, and walked him through every nook and cranny about having periods and the basics of the biological need for them.

"So... It's natural..." Choso inquires, and you nod, “but it hurts you? Because you’re not pregnant..." He seems salty about it, annoyed that women, when reaching a certain age, are pained because nature intended for them to get pregnant.

“Basically, yeah.” You’re happy he got it a tiny bit right.

"When did you get it?" He asks, and it takes a while to understand what he means.

“Uh, I think... At thirteen." You answer truthfully. Choso frowns.

“But that’s young…” Aw, he's so cute, worrying about this. Most men don't even think about it. You were so lucky to have him.

"Yean, but it's nature. Only way I can prevent them without getting pregnant is birth control and removing my uterus."

“So why don't you?" He pouts, cutie.

"Because I don't know if I want kids, and birth control has side effects I don't need right now." Chose looks at his phone and unlocks it, typing something. He's gotten used to phones, after Yuji taught him.

"Apparently, hot pockets are a good way to alleviate pain, did you know?" Of course you knew, but it's wholesome to know he's trying to help.

"Yeah, babe, I know."

"And making love, too!" The half curse exclaims, which could only mean one thing. He wants to help.

So, now you're in the shower with Choso, because you didn't want to wash the sheets, naked and bleeding on his cock.

"Does it hurt?" He asks for the nth time and you groan.

“No, babe, for the millionth time, move.” Taking that as the green light, he adjusts you, making sure you'd be steady in his arms and pulls out, dragging his long cock inside of your extra warm and wet cunt, your blood stains his pale skin and you moan.

Could this truly alleviate period pain? So far, you hadn’t had any cramps to report, so all's well. But that could change at any moment.

Then, Choso slowly enters you once more, dark eyes fixed on where you were connected bloodily. He exhales shakily, shutting his eyes, as if he was trying to hold back. And it's only now that you realize that you

were definitely more sensitive than before. Way more sensitive.

“Hey,” comes Choso’s strained voice, still painfully hard inside of you. "I don't want to hurt you, and…" He pauses, catching his breath like he just ran a marathon, even that was easy for him. “I know I’ll lose control. Can I eat you out?" Gosh, he was so polite, even

during sex. You nod, however. You didn't want a repeat of last time he hurt you. He cried so much it could’ve flooded japan.

"Are you sure, though? We can always stop, most guys don’t like touching their girls when they're on their periods.”

"I'm not like other guys, then." He carefully sets your feet down on the floor, opens the tap and lets the shower head wash in between your thighs, alongside his dick knowing the blood would crust. How sweet.

Choso gets on his knees, like he was praying for you, and swipes his tongue on your hot slit,

The first taste is addictive, forcing him to shove his tongue mside of your pussy while you gasped, throwing a leg over his shoulder. He places a securing hand on the outside of your thigh and kneads the fat as he slurped on your red cunt.

Your blood made its way to his lower face, and Choso doesn't hesitate to bury his head deeper between your legs. Your stomach churned at the idea of him consuming your blood like this.

But somehow, it was hot, and it made your pussy wetter, muscles taunter.

"Choso-ah! S'good... Don't stop..." You whine, pushing his head down and he looks up, showing his bloody canines off.

“Not gunnah." The half curse suckles on your clit, eliciting a loud moan, thankfully silenced by the sound of running water.

"Are you hurting?" Choso wiggles his tongue through your folds, you were so close... He can't stop.

"No! Faster, please!" You begs, whimpering as he bit on your cit lightly. And faster he did go.

He forced his tongue into your bloody cunt repeatedly, not even giving you time to realize you were cumming, seeing stars behind your eyelids and almost slipping from how weak your knees became.

“Fuck…” You sigh, throwing your head back against the shower wall. “Ch-Choso, you freak.” You giggle as you look down, pulling on his hair to make him look at you.

“Don’t.” The curse in question warns, his eyes seem to glow, but that’s impossible. He looked… monstrous. Feral, even.

“Don’t what..?” It’s surprising, how Choso can go from genteel and soft to mean and vicious. You could even consider it scary.

“Let me… let me eat some more…” He stares at your pussy, and you could even spot a small tear trying to slip out of his eye. “I just want to help with the pain.”

Right, the cramps. You haven’t felt any, maybe it did help, but that didn’t mean he should continue.

“It’s fine, babe. I’ll just be out of commission for a few days.” You reassure, patting his head.

“No.” Choso frowns, tongue dipping back in. “I want more.”

What have you done?

[hyperdramas]

for one last time | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, fluff, boyfriend!seokmin, tiny mention of jealous!seokmin, mentions of sports (wii sports), reader is lost, kissing, small mention of physical touch, bits of shamless flirting (on seokmin's end), pet names (reader w baby, seokmin w honey, babe), lyr projects her love for wii games on reader, seokmin throws something at reader (a baseball cap as a teasing gesture), they're cute & in love your honor

now playing: for one last time, cheyander

"You swing your arm back and forth like this, babe. That's how you hit the ball." Seokmin's behind you, breath hitting your ear as he puts one hand on your waist and the other on your right arm, performing the swinging motion. Your cheeks are warm from the touch, and Seokmin notices this, a smile on his face as he pulls away.

Your boyfriend was a sports fanatic—he loved lots of sports, and were good at a lot of them too. The first game he had bought for the Wii you two shared was Wii Sports, and he had the joy (at least, that's what he said) of teaching you how to play the game.

You loved Wii games, but disliked sports—you didn't see the hype around them, and you never understood the rules anyways. Seokmin was just so excited to show you how to swing for tennis and serve for volleyball using the Wii remotes, though.

How could you say no to a sweet smile like the one your boyfriend had?

"Seokmin, baby, I really don't think I'm made for this." You look at him, and he adjusts his baseball cap, shaking his head as the watch on his wrist shuffles with his movements.

"We're just gonna give it sometime, okay? Let's try baseball again, okay?" Seokmin looks over to you, voice soft as he exits the tennis portion of the game.

"You'll crush me! You're so good at baseball, Minnie, it's not even a competition with you." You mumble, and Seokmin laughs, kissing your cheek as he shakes his head. "I'll go easy on you, I promise. I want you to get the hang of it first."

As he continues to find the baseball setting, you watch your boyfriend from behind, studying his broad frame and muscled shoulders and arms he's gotten by pitching baseballs and serving volleyballs, no doubt.

As Seokmin worked to recallibrate your controller, you studied his nearly perfect batting form, watching the slope of his nose, bite of his bottom lip, and twinkle of his eye as he focused on the instruction on screen.

"Alright, I think I've got it. Come on, honey, let's try again." Seokmin hands you your remote, and you sigh, shuffling to get in place as you spread out from him.

"Why can't we just play Mariokart and call it a day?" You question, and Seokmin looks over to you, eyes puppy-like as he juts out his lower lip.

"Let's just try one more time, okay? Just one more time." Seokmin begs like a little child, and you can't say no, especially when he's looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes.

"......Fine. One more time." You finally give in, spreading your legs out as you get ready to bat. "I love you." Seokmin looks over to you, nose scrunched up as his eyes disappear into pretty crecsents.

Shaking your head, you brace for Seokmin's pitch, giving it your best shot as you swing your arm like he told you. Your ball flies into the sky, an announcement of a home run adorning the screen as you scream and jump for joy. Seokmin runs to you, obviously happy for you as he picks you up in his arms and spins you around.

Once he places you down, with your hands still on his shoulders and his still on your waist, he takes the Wii remote from you, eyes now half lidded as he smirks at you.

Unable to look at him seriously, you laugh, eyes lighting up as you take in Seokmin's now devious expression. It's obvious that he wants something from you, but you can't blame him, as you also want what he's thinking about.

"I think I deserve a home run kiss." You whisper, bringing your hand to the brim of his baseball cap as you take it off, revealing his messy, dark brown hair.

"I was just about to give it to you." Seokmin says, voice soft yet deep as he searches your eyes.

Your run your hands through his hair, letting the bangs fall in front of his eyes perfectly as he starts to lean in, eyes closing as his lips touch yours. His lips feel perfect against yours, and your hands go from Seokmin's shoulders to sliding down his strong back, and making their way back into his curly hair.

The baseball cap in your hands is long gone, on the floor as your hands go back to Seokmin's broad shoulders yet again. He smiles under you, over the moon at your kisses as he pulls away, breathless.

"I knew you could do it. You just needed a little bit of practice." Seokmin smiles softly, and you sway with him, hands in his as you stare into his eyes.

"I think it's because your Mii character is so cute." You tease lightly, and Seokmin glares at you, picking up his baseball cap and throwing it at you as you squeal, laughing.

"I'm just kidding, Seokmin. No Mii could ever take me from you." You sigh, and Seokmin beams, handing you your controller as he asks: "For one last time?"

feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated! i love reading your throughts :>

[starxiaos]

dreamscape by nct dream: the review

— preface: i am still a relatively new fan, so i don't recognize all their voices yet. i also do not speak korean, nor am i fluent by any means. this review is solely based on vibes, instrumentals, and english phrases. the translations are not out yet at my time of posting this. this being said, this review is also for shits and giggles, and i could be entirely wrong. however, this is my opinion and my review, so if it bothers you, write your own. special thanks to our favorite dreamzen, @jenoslutie , for helping me with vocal recognition.

— details. release date: november 11, 2024. # of songs: 11 total listening time: 34 minutes note: eleven songs...released on 11/11..i see you. — overall rating: 9.2/10. favorite songs are marked with ☆, regardless of rating.

— track 1: INTRO : DREAMSCAPE rating: 8/10 thoughts: guitar in the beginning is nice. this is sweet. i don't know who is who but i assume that haechan was the second vocalist in the beginning. "trying to wake up, up, up. fly away." was adorable. this beat was very cute and warm, in my opinion, while still keeping their sort of edm/trance trademark.

— track 2: When I'm With You rating: 9.8/10 live reaction: love this beat, what? i don't know enough korean but this shit feels like men yearning, based on the english parts and their tones alone. the syncopations for "when i'm with you" are really good and smooth. 1:49-1:56 WHO IS THAT??? (it was haechan) "when i'm with you…day and night…" VS "when i'm with you…i'm so blind.." oh you're in LOVEEE!!! 2:50-3:00 WHO ARE THOSE TWO??? (it was renjun and haechan, then jeno) whoever didn't like this is fucking stupid. it's fun and funky and a little refreshing.

— track 3: Flying Kiss rating: 10/10 live reaction: "like a fanta-zzzzzy" BRO? "baby i know that you love me." oh my? that's so…this beat CHANGE HOLD UP! "I LOVE YOU FOREVER" OOOOH OMG THEY'RE EATING WAIT!? these beat changes are GOOD! it changes the vibe for a moment then right back, it's like a rollercoaster dip. "girl you're my DREAM." who is fucking him bc they're doing a GOOD job. the way they're throwing in "i love you forever!" is so boyfriend sneaking out of his gf's house because she has school the next day and blowing her kisses type shit. this is VERY cute.

— track 4: i hate fruits ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: BERRY TASTE TASTE TASTE? i like this instrumental a lot. "trynna hate you" i love when a man cannot admit to himself that he likes a girl. i love that, because it's so obvious that he DOES. "lo-lo-love you so bad." THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHATTTT I LOVE YEARNING? "love is super sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet in my mouth" that's fucking cute as fuck what the hell. "whole world mine, you're mine" HELPPPP JAFBSLJCKBHLFB THATS SO CUTE AWWWWW WHAT THE HECK GUYS!! "like a grapefruit, sweet and sour" OMGGGGGGG!!!

— track 5: No Escape rating: 10/10 live reaction: this beat is eating. that ricochet sound in the back is GOOD, that'll get stuck in your head fr. this is a song that makes you feel like you're drowning in someone else's problems because you're listening about them and don't really know what to do, forward slash can't do anything about them because you're on the outside. so really, it's like watching THEM drown. even though none of them have writing credits for this one, i get it. "never know why this anxiety keeps coming for me" is a serious statement but the way they've mixed this, it just sounds like a warning, if that makes sense. musical genius here.

— track 6: Best of Me rating: 8/10 live reaction: oh fuck this instrumental already fucks. are all these songs just about yearning? do these boys get no pussy? ….nvm this shit is definitely about sex bro, and if not, at least some sort of intimate moment. haechan writing cred, love that, good boy. this is good! i like their beat a lot for this.

— track 7: YOU rating: 8.5/10 live reaction: this beat is nice and mellow. this is yearning, actually. this is like, actual true pining. "i'm in you" can be understood as sexual, and while i'm sure it is, it also is said…like, in an emotional way. "i'm in you" in your heart, "i'm in you" in who you are as a person, "i'm in you" in the way that you buy takeout and get my favorite dishes even though i'm not there. "i'm in you" in the way you listen to our playlists when you miss me, "i'm in you" in the way that there is a piece of me in you, and a piece of you in me because we're lovers and bound together by the love we feel. this is good, i like the fact that they'll never confirm that it's about sex because there is also so many other ways to process it, and i like the beat change when that part of the song started for mark. good job.

— track 8: Heavenly ☆ rating: 8/10 live reaction: "heavenly, heavenly, heavenly, yeah." was SO pretty. this vocal tone is beautiful, very soft but still coming in with that rap that holds purpose. that's good, i like the tonal switch up between not just their voices but the parts of the song. the instrumental is a solid 7/10 but they definitely know how to bring it higher, with the vocals it's a good 9.5/10. should be longer, in my opinion!! i love the way they say heavenly.

— track 9: Night Poem ☆ rating: 9/10 live reaction: another nice and mellow beat, this is good! this is also definitely about sex, "babe every morning, every night, everyday". this isn't about one night stand sex, casual sex, fwb sex, this is 'i'm in love with you and the universe conspired to help me find you' sex. this is 'i wanna make babies and have a two-story house and a golden retriever with you' type sex song. their tone is so soft and pretty, can never say they're bad vocalists because that'd just be a fucking lie. WHOEVER THE FUCK DID THAT SPOKEN PART AT THE END NEEDS THEIR DICK SUCKED.

— track 10: Off The Wall ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: i'm not sure why, but the beginning of this instrumental reminded me of highway to heaven. however, this is very funky and i love that DOWNNNN. this is something you get FUNKY to, i'm talking you play this at the roller rink and skate with your lover. but also, this is 'off the wall,' in love with you. 'off the wall,' obsessed with you. 'off the wall,' losing my mind because i want you so bad. this could also not be about love at all, instead telling listeners to just 'let loose, live your life, who gives a FUCK'. that's hot shit, i love that. good job.

— track 11: Rains in Heaven ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: this is a PRETTY song. this is directed at everyone and anyone, but again, can be thought of as a song for a lover. this is so, so sweet and encouraging. this beat is so melodious and their voices are soft and gentle and reassuring. this can be an inspo for a friends-to-lovers fic, something where one of them goes through so many struggles and they're vocal about them but the other does their own stuff in silence until they break? idk. this is very very sweet and cute and i think that it adds to the fact that they can dominate just about any concept. "crawl then we walk so we run" is SO encouraging, because the world is just chronically depressed. THAT HIGH NOTE WHO IS THAT OMG? ATEEE!! the fact that mark has a writing cred for this song also eats, I knew that guy had a soft heart. aw. i hope he knows he's loved. "i love the, the way you are" is so sweet and reassuring. awwww ugh this was so cutie.

— closing thoughts: despite not being new to kpop and casually listening to nct/wayv for a handful of years, i think i still have a lot to learn. however, with dreamscape being my first comeback as a dreamzen, i cannot say i'm disappointed. i've seen an array of opinions on the album, with a lot of negative feedback about the album, the concept, the lyrics, and the instrumental. it's not the vibe, and i genuinely think that if you didn't like it, you simply didn't get it. and that's okay - but making it a point to send hate and say that the album wasn't good/was 'trash' in order to make it known that you didn't get it is a stretch. i hope those of you who took the time to listen and understand the album enjoyed it just as much as i did.

this being said, the album was a mix of really, really melodic songs and comfort, with no escape and off the wall being two of the songs that throw you off course in the best way. the funky mix of off the wall and when i'm with you compliments the overall vibe of the album, and no escape adds an edge right in the middle. intro: dreamscape keeps that staple nct edm vibe, where it's just noise but it is still very soft and it really makes you zero in on the instrumentals.

overall, this album showcases a mix of love songs, inspiring songs, and a sprinkle of something human. each of these songs has that human touch, and has a feeling that you can either relate to or someone around you can relate to - or even better, something you can yearn for. it shows growth, and what can be deemed as an 'escape' into the softer, more intimate parts of adulthood. they really hit the mark on this one, and i look forward to settling more into their little nook of the music world.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Listen I love FL he's such a scrunkly hehehehe such a blorbo, very happy shapes for my neuro divergent brain

My wife has joked to some of our friends that she's 86% sure that I'm a cryptid because of various factors (from being able to see well in complete darkness without any issues, calming down feral animals by just talking to said animal for a minute, etc).

And I'm thinking about FL with a reader that has cryptid energy and thinks he's just the cutest little guy ever hehehe like they're pretty weird in their own regard but they have a lot of heart and somehow have befriended lots of creatures throughout the world (from the regisvines to hilichurls to weenuts to the mushroom creatures, they're all about making friends)

*claps hands* hoyoverse make a character who is friends with Abyss Mages in a wholesome way, do it!!

you and Childe would get along famously since you both have a mischievous streak- when he's not on the clock, of course. your favorite activity is popping out from the shadows when he least expects it, acting like you've been there the whole time when you definitely weren't! he also adores how you become friends with any creatures you run across, ranging from cats all the way to the monsters of the wilderness (he swore he once saw you using an Abyss mage as a pillow), so he's not worried about introducing you to Foul Legacy at all

Foul Legacy, on the other hand, IS worried- what if he's the exception, the one monster you find terrifying? he wants you to like him as much as he likes you!! so when Childe finally allows him to meet you, he instantly tries to lower his head so he appears more friendly, less intimidating. luckily his worries are for naught, because you think he's the cutest, most beautiful beast you've ever seen, laughing with delight and cupping his cheeks so you can plant a kiss on his forehead. now whenever you happen to see Foul Legacy you immediately run towards him, hoisting yourself onto his shoulders so you can mess with his hair and horns, putting little flowers that you found earlier in his ginger locks

you both give shiny rocks to each other as gifts :)

[sysig]

Butterfly kisses (Patreon)

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[bamgeut]

do you ever remember random people from your past and start wondering how they're doing now

[shayberri789]

I will never be over the fact that my allo brother was the first to get into a qpr

And I, the only aromantic he knows, who taught him about qprs in the first place,

WAS THE LAST TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT

[noxtivagus]

rinoa n squall i love them so much they're the cutest 🥺

[articskele]

This man got me listening to All I Want For Christmas Is You in the middle of May I'm so done for

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Hi, hello, I'm here to scream a little about another Psychomanteum Snack. I still have A LOT of screaming to do about the series as a whole (which I finished the other night and was wholly and entirely blown out of my bones by) but for now we're sticking to the snick snacks. And boy oh BOY was this one a TREAT! (Make sure you have a glass or six of water handy for this one, friends. And maybe a fan or a cooling towel. You'll need it.)

Listen. I love these two a completely non-normal amount. I love them for the way they get inside each others' hearts and make each other open up and flourish and see brightness, and for the way they aren't afraid to be silly together and how they openly express their feelings and fears over time and how they put so much trust - like, metric tons of trust - in each other, and for the way that they go out of their way to make the other smile or laugh or feel loved. Just, you know, for starters.

BUT. I also love them for the dirty, nasty, filthy, kinky little sluts they are, UNHOLY FUCK.

I love the idea of this strangers at a bar scenario for them and how it lets Lua experience roleplay in a way that doesn't put too much pressure on her to "stay in character". It's still fantasy because their relationship never had a bar hookup stage, but it's not foreign because this was what both of them were doing (separately) when they met, and even more familiar for Lua, because she gets to be the boss. ;)

I am living for the fact that Dieter wants to be "chewed up and spit out" by her because he finds it hot. And it is hot, that kind of confidence. And honestly I could not fucking say no to anything he wanted to try because he's so fucking worshipful and grateful about it.

YOU USED THE ICONIC DIETER DO YOU WANNA HAVE SEX WITH ME LINE. And then all that dirty talk from him. I think I would fall off my stool. In fact, I'm a clumsy bitch so I know I would. Also? What happens in that bathroom is iconic in its own right. SHEESH.

On top of the smokin' hot smut and the playful/dirty flirting and the way that these two just SEE each other so clearly, I just want to point out how much I love the depth you put into every scene. Not just in the actions, thoughts and dialogue of the characters, but also in the layers of details that you create. It's always so tactile and visual, even when what we're looking at is a graffiti covered bathroom in a dimly lit dive bar. It's very dimensional and it's incredible.

This was suuuuuuuuch a fun detour and only made me love these two even more.

acting lesson

pairing: dieter bravo x ofc louella

Summary: Dieter convinces you to roleplay with him.

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Content Tags/Warnings: LDR, roleplay, bar, drinking alcohol (casual), dirty talk, swearing, public bathroom sex, D/s elements, fluff, impact play, pet names, hair pulling, blow job, unprotected piv sex, graffiti, football mention

Word Count: 4.3k+

Notes: In the Psychomanteum universe between Ch 12 & 13. Could be read as a one-shot. Based on this ask from @frannyzooey:

Dieter and Lou — roleplay He’s an actor, she’s….not 👀👀 How does he indulge her? ❤️

The idea first came up during one of your many phone calls with Dieter.

It was the kind of call that works as a surrogate for sitting in the room together, despite the some-odd 2,600 miles keeping you apart. Comfortable silences between organic conversation, running parallel to your evening routines. In LA, Dieter hummed to himself while rifling through his kitchen cabinets for snacks. In New York, you stared at up the marigold painting hung above your bed, and you asked him, “How do you act?”

“When I’m with you, like a fool.”

His voice purred through your phone speaker, low and warm. Heat bloomed in your chest and crept up your neck.

You giggled, “I mean, like, for your job. How do you do that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I try to channel the character and pretend to be them. You ever do plays in school or anything like that?”

“In fourth grade I got to play a munchkin in The Wizard of Oz. I had one line and I completely butchered it.”

He laughed, “Seems about right.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You’re just… very good at being yourself,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his words, “It’s not a bad thing, doll. I like that about you.”

A smile spread across your face. You hummed in acknowledgement.

“If you want, I can show you how I do it. Give you an acting lesson. You could be my scene partner,” he lowered his voice an octave, “We could make it fun.”

Something about this pricked your skin with excitement. You twisted a strand of hair around your finger and smirked, “How’s that?”

“Have you ever done roleplay?”

“Oh no,” you laughed, shaking your head, “I would be terrible at that—”

“Wait wait wait, hear me out,” he protested, “What if you got to play yourself?”

You quietly pondered this, then asked, “Who would you be?”

“I would be… a stranger at a bar. You’d just have to play along,” he rumbled, “Treat me like one of your hookups.”

Warmth trickled down your spine and pooled between your legs. You licked your lips and traced your collarbone over your shirt, “You’ve thought about this before.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not opposed to the idea. It could be… hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe next time I see you,” you conceded.

And so, this morning, while sipping coffee together out on his patio, he brought it up again.

“Do you remember when we talked about… an acting lesson?”

Your eyebrow quirked and you glanced over at him, “You mean roleplay?”

He shrugged, draping an arm around your shoulders, working his thumb against the starfruit tattoo on your arm, “How do you feel about it?”

“I wondered what it would have been like to meet you like that.”

“Me too,” he said, then scooted closer and murmured, “You know, I’ve always thought that was something so fucking sexy about you. The way you chew men up and spit them out.”

“Really?” you studied him.

The corner of his mouth tucked up in a smirk. His gaze bore into yours, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Not you, though,” you brought your hand to his cheek and smoothed your palm along his cheek, “I like you.”

“No, not me,” he agreed, nuzzling into your touch, “But we can pretend. It’ll be an acting lesson, remember?”

“An acting lesson, yeah, that’s why you wanna do this. Not because you wanna fuck me in a bathroom stall, right?”

“It can be both,” he said, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile as you stared at him. His dark eyes flicked around your face, searching for an answer. When you released a reluctant sigh and frowned down into your coffee cup, he continued.

“I’ll give you some pointers beforehand, love. It’ll be fun. You just be you and pretend you don’t know me,” he purred, his voice growing lower and more persuasive, “I wanna see what it’s like to be used by you, Lua. Please. Let me be your piece of meat. Chew me up and spit me out.”

How could you say no?

When you step inside the door, it slams behind you. Outside, the sun still douses Los Angeles in daylight, but the underground bar shows no signs of it. Your eyes sting as they adjust to the darkness, and you find yourself momentarily blinded.

Slowly, things start to come into focus.

Neon beer signs and pucks of dim, golden light studding the low ceiling make their surroundings glow, reflecting off the dark wooden bar and high-top tables. A few clusters of people are scattered around at the tables, and one androgynous person sits at the bar, scrolling on their phone while taking occasional sips from a tall glass of beer. Over the speakers, “You Make Loving Fun” by Fleetwood Mac plays just a decibel too loud, but you have a feeling this is the standard music volume here.

It’s one of those places that seems unchanging. Static. You bet that if you walked in here at any moment, on any day, it would look and feel mostly the same.

You approach the bar and take a seat in one of the tattered barstools. Its red pleather sticks to your legs and back. One of the advantages and disadvantages of wearing your most fuckable dress: it’s really goddamn short.

“What’ll you be having tonight, miss?”

You look to the portly bartender and smile, “Vodka cranberry, please.”

He walks away, returning a minute later with your drink. You slide a twenty across the counter and thank him.

When the bartender brings you your change, he nods at the man pulling out the barstool next to you, who says, “Old fashioned.”

The bartender makes his drink and brings back your change. You leave a few bills on the rail as a tip, then lean back in your chair and look up at the TV. Two college football teams slam into each other on the screen.

The man sitting next to you is not discreet about his ogling. His eyes burn your skin, but you pay him no mind. You lift the drink to your lips and take a few quick gulps to hush the excitement bubbling up your neck.

He does the same, then you feel him lean towards you and ask, “Why do bars always play the most boring shit on TV?”

You look over at him, looking up and down his very expensive looking, and thusly very out-of-place, navy suit, obviously tailored just for him. The top three buttons are undone, revealing his smooth chest that gleams gold in the dim lighting. A lusty ache twists at your center.

You smirk and meet his deep brown eyes, “What, you don’t find the underlying threat of concussion-induced brain injuries to be exhilarating?”

The handsome “stranger” laughs, exposing this big, contagious smile, dimples tugging at his cheeks and everything, “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

You grin, staring down at your drink for a moment, then say, “I’ve found that if I go into it pretending it’s the first half of a horror story I’ll never know the ending to, it’s not as, umm,” a giggle escapes your throat, “fucking boring, y’know?”

“Wow,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not sure if I want to run for the hills or ask for your hand in marriage.”

“The first option is probably safer,” you wink, then take a sip of your drink.

His gaze lingers on you for a beat before he stammers, “I’m Diego, by the way.”

“Louella,” you take his outstretched hand and shake it.

He holds it there, grazing his thumb along your knuckles before pulling back, “What brings you out tonight? Meeting friends or something?”

You tilt your head at him, dragging your eyes across the broad expanse of his body, “Just, you know… seeing what’s out there.”

His throat rumbles and he drops his gaze to your lips, “Find anything?”

“Maybe,” you grin and take a sip of your drink, “What about you, Diego?”

“What about me?”

“You’re here, having a drink, talking to me. Is your evening going as you’d hoped?”

“Much better, actually,” he murmurs, leaning close, “Didn’t think I’d come across someone as gorgeous as you.”

You smile, and find yourself restraining laughter. Not because he’s doing bad or anything, but because he’s doing so good.

“Quite the smooth-talker, aren’t you?”

He grins, bobbing his shoulders in a shrug, “Is it working?”

At this, you do laugh. You tuck your hair behind your ear and depart from his lustful gaze, glancing down at your drink. A wide palm slides onto your back, warming the skin between your shoulder blades. The magnetic force of his body drawing close makes your breathing stutter.

“Listen,” his voice seems to melt, low and heated, into your ear, the baritone dripping down your spine, pooling between your legs, “If this is too forward, feel free to tell me to fuck off, but… do you want to have sex with me?”

You turn to find him just inches away, hooded eyes dark and heavy with want, flitting around your face like he’s brainstorming ways to make it contort with pleasure. You love seeing him like this. Needy. Aching. Putty in your hands.

“Tell me what you want to do to me, Diego,” you tell him in a throaty whisper, “And I’ll consider it.”

A flash of his pink tongue breaches his lips. He glances around as he scoots his barstool closer, knee brushing against yours, and murmurs in your ear, “As far as the venue goes, we have a couple options. Bathroom, out back, in my car—”

“Romantic,” you tease.

He raises an eyebrow at you, dragging his gaze from your face, down your neck, following the curve of your body, “But you don’t want romance, do you, Louella? That’s not why you’re here.”

“Oh yeah?” you tilt your head and bat your lashes at him, “Then why am I here?”

His throat rumbles. He leans so close, his breath scatters across your cheek when he says, “You’re here because you want to get fucked. Hard, preferably. You want me to bring you into that disgusting bathroom and stretch your sweet little cunt out with my fat cock, isn’t that right? You want me to squeeze your tits and use my teeth. You want it to hurt, not a lot, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make you feel something. Enough to make you feel… real,” he pauses here, smirking at you, licking his lips as he drops his gaze to your mouth, “Hmm? Isn’t that right, Louella?”

You swallow hard and nod, and realize you’re holding your breath. When you draw air in, it’s shaky and subdued.

“Will you let me do that for you?”

His touch trails up your bare leg and makes you shiver.

“Yes.”

He stands from the barstool and takes a cursory glance around, then nods at you, “Lead the way.”

Miraculously, the bathroom at this shitty dive bar is one of those no-stall, single-toilet situations with a deadbolt to keep the outside world at bay.

Dieter guides you through the threshold with his hand at the small of your back. You peer around the small, dim room, studying the graffitied black tile walls. Colorful tags, crudely drawn dicks, and witty remarks surround you on all sides. The scent of bleach burns your nostrils, which is a little disorientating, but you suppose it’s better than the alternative.

The lock clicks in place behind you.

When you turn to look at him, he’s already burying his fist in your hair and pushing your cheek against the cool tile wall. You gasp with surprise at the force he uses, exhaling a giddy laugh, and he murmurs in your ear, “What’s your safe word, baby?”

Your eyes dart around for inspiration, and you focus in on a cartoon giraffe wearing sunglasses, a cigarette dangling from his lips, next to a word bubble that reads: Giraffiti is cool!

“Giraffe.”

“Giraffe,” he repeats, and you nod as much as his grasp on your hair will allow.

He slides your skin-tight dress up to your waist and yanks your underwear down to your ankles, rumbling, “Fuck, look at this ass.”

His palm slides warm and gentle across one cheek, then he digs his fingers into the soft flesh and groans when you whimper. He lets go, and the deep, bruising grip is quickly replaced with a sharp, hard slap.

A gasp expands your lungs as heat tingles across the site.

“How’s that?”

“Fucking perfect,” you breathe, eyes drifting closed, mouth falling open. He does it again, same spot. Smack. This time you moan.

When he releases your hair, you stay where you are, with your hands and face all smushed up against the tile. He smooths gentle circles into your unmarred ass cheek. When it draws away, you flinch in anticipation, and he chuckles, “Too hard?”

“No.”

It’s followed by another smack, by pain and heat, and you hiss, “Fuck yes.”

His throat makes this noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a moan. He slides his hand around your front, between your legs, and he purrs, “You fucking love this, don’t you, Louella?”

“I do,” you whimper at his soft, exploratory touch, at the gentle way he spreads your arousal up and down your wet, hot middle. Fingertips dig into the curve of your ass and hold there. The contrast between his two hands is excruciating.

“What’s my name?”

Not thinking, you exhale, “Dieter.”

His gentle hand freezes against you. The other lays down a sharp smack that burns your skin and makes you whimper. He grinds out, “That’s not my fucking name. What’s my name?”

“Diego.”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he coos, putting the hand against your pussy in motion, tracing around your clit, not touching it directly, flooding your body with a tingling, frustrated kind of excitement that makes your heart race and your breathing quicken.

You reach down and grab his wrist, pressing his hand into you harder, rolling your hips against it, and moan at the pressure it relieves.

He yanks his hand away from your grasp and buries it in your hair, pulling the strands taught, smacking your ass again, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Please,” you pout, arching your hips back towards him, “Please fuck me, Diego.”

All the air leaves his lungs and scatters across your back.

“Louella,” he rumbles, and all your insides clench at his low, patient cadence, at the way your name vibrates off his lips onto your shoulder, then he says, “You are fucking demanding, aren’t you?”

“No—”

Smack

A hot, searing pain from your battered ass cheek makes you gasp, then whimper. Arousal shoots up your spine. Your cunt aches with need.

“I’ll be patient—I’ll do whatever the fuck you want, Diego, please—”

“That’s it,” he coos, “You’re gonna be my little slut, hmm? Let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes.”

The word comes out with a throaty, needy force, almost a fucking sob. You want him so bad it hurts. He chuckles at this, at how fucking desperate you are right now.

“Get on your knees, baby.”

He releases you and steps back. You turn to face him, holding his lust-blown gaze as you drop to your knees like he asked.

“Show me how bad you want it.”

You nod in understanding, your shaky hands clambering at his belt buckle, unzipping his slacks, the mechanism all strained with the force of his bulge. You pull his pants and briefs down with a frantic kind of energy that makes him hum with amusement as he watches you.

His cock bobs out as his pants fall to his feet. You admire it for a moment. How it’s so thick and swollen and twitchy with need, delicate skin pulled taught, a sticky little bead of arousal sprouting up at the tip. You test its weight in your palm, grinning when you look up and see Dieter’s lips part and his eyelids flutter.

“That’s it, baby, show me how bad you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy.”

You open your mouth, batting your eyelashes up at him as you drag your tongue up his length. Again and again, painting his cock with your saliva, using flat, firm strokes, until it’s shiny and soaked with spit.

He moans when you stretch your lips out around him, rolling your tongue against the tip, the salty, heady dribble of pre-cum smearing into your tastebuds. You slide your lips further down his shaft and start to suck him off at a steady rhythm, bobbing your head along his length.

“Oh my fucking god,” he gasps, eyebrows threading together, nodding down at you, “You’re so fucking good at that. Do you like sucking cock, baby, hmm?”

You look up to meet his eyes, mouth all full and stretched out from him, and answer anyway, “Mhmm.”

“Fuck yes you do—you fucking love it, don’t you?”

You pull off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand, jerking him off as you whine, “Yes I do, I fucking love it—”

He grabs your hair and forces his cock back in your mouth, gritting out, “Did I fucking tell you to stop?”

A moan surfaces from your guts. His head rolls back and he twitches against your tongue. You take the length of his cock faster now, the stretched-out band of your lips slick and tingling. He pets your hair and holds your gaze, watching you with awe as you work, quiet groans falling from his parted lips.

The doorknob jiggles, then there’s a knock.

“Occu—”

You sit up higher to plunge your mouth down on him, jamming his cock down your throat. His mouth falls open and he moans while you move in short, quick strokes. A wet gurgling noise echoes off the tiles back into your ears.

There’s another jiggle. Another knock. A faint, feminine, “Hello?”

You pull off of him, gasping for air while you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him as he hollers, “Occupied!”

A beat goes by while he stares at the door before he brings his focus back to you, shaking his head, kicking his pants off over his shoes, “Get up.”

Your underwear tangle around your heels and trip you up. By the time you yank them off and toss them aside, Dieter has grown impatient. He rips you off the floor by your armpits, pushing your back against the cool tile wall.

Beneath you, your shaky legs buckle, but he slips an arm around your waist to prevent you falling.

As if second nature, he looks you over and draws his body close, cupping your cheek with his palm.

And… fuck, the way he stares at you, with this warm, attentive gaze… you know he wants to kiss you. You know he wants to hold you close and whisper sweet somethings in your ear. He wants to tell you he loves you and that he’ll never stop loving you, forever and ever until he’s dust, and maybe even then, if dust has feelings.

It’s all Dieter, not Diego.

You grin and search his face, then whisper, “You broke character.”

He narrows his eyes for just a moment, as if trying to process what you said. When he realizes you’re right, this big amused smile spreads across his face and he chuckles, “You hush.”

You link your hands at the back of his neck, “We can rewind.”

His throat rumbles as he considers this, brushing his knuckles along the side of your face, glancing down at your lips. The grip around your waist tightens and his hips sway a little.

“You just wanna kiss me and make sweet, sweet love to me, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he grins, pressing his forehead against yours.

You giggle and comb your fingertips through his mess of curls, “You big softie.”

His smile falters a little and he shrugs, “Sorry.”

Your stomach twists.

“Hey, no,” you pull back enough to meet his eyes and shake your head, “It’s one of my very favorite things about you.”

He furrows his brow and blinks, “Really?”

“Yes,” you giggle, rubbing your palm against his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch and you tell him, “Diego is hot, but Dieter? My Dee? I fucking love him. And he’s hot.”

A bright, bashful smile spreads across his face. He meets your gaze with those loving, loving eyes and asks, “Can I fucking kiss you now?”

“Oh my god, plea—”

His lips cut you off, pressing into yours with passionate force. From its place pinned between your bodies, his cock twitches. He brings a hand to the back of your head and renews the kiss, pulling you closer, slotting his mouth against yours.

You whimper at the velvet of his tongue. The tug of his fingers clamping down in your hair. The persistent, pulsing current where your bodies meet.

The two of you seem to lose yourself here, in the heated kissing and touching and writhing, forgetting your presence in the restroom has a time limit.

Another knock on the door. Harder. Impatient.

Dieter parts from your swollen lips, his mouth a mess of your red lipstick, and hollers at the door, “Give me a minute!”

Then he turns back to you, his gaze all obsidian want, and mutters, “We better hurry before they ram the goddamn door down.”

“How do you want me?” you ask, batting your lashes at him, trailing a fingernail along his jawline.

“Just like this.”

Sometimes you forget how strong he is.

When he lifts your hips you let out a little yelp of surprise and hook your arms around his shoulders.

“Legs around my back, love, I got you,” he breathes. The wall bears some of your weight as you lean against it and wrap your legs around him. He settles in closer, shifting his hips under yours. The tip of his cock nudges your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he asks, caressing your cheek with the slope of his nose.

Normally, he has to work himself in slow. Let your body adjust to the stretch of him in increments. So you know what he means when he asks this.

But when you nod, and he loosens his grip to let gravity take you down, it still shocks you. The pain is immediate. And exquisite. You bury a deep, guttural moan into his shoulder and dig your nails into his skin. Your eyes flutter shut and you inhale a few sharp breaths.

“Fffffuck,” he hisses when you can go no further, “So fucking tight, holy fuck.”

All you can respond with is a whimper. He holds you here, impaled, not moving, as you start to relax around him and the pain condenses into a gooey ember right at the center of you.

“That’s it, love.”

His hips start to roll slow, dragging his cock along your walls, sending sparks up your spine.

“Fuck, Dee,” you gasp.

He snatches a kiss from your trembling lips and asks, “Too much?”

Your mouth gapes open with a ragged moan and you press your sweaty forehead into his, “Issss perfect—So fuuucking good—“

He lets out a raspy chuckle, “Listen to you, Lua, all fucking cock drunk, fuck—”

The laugh you release is delirious, and quickly devolves into moaning as he starts to fuck you faster. He’s not wrong. You feel disoriented and tingly, like you’ve been launched into space and you’re no longer on Earth, but on Planet Dieter.

You can tell he’s starting to unravel when he pants all kinds of filthy things against your frantic breathes, fueling the fire licking your insides, pulling you closer and closer to your ascent.

“You fucking love when I stretch your cunt out, don’t you doll? Hmm?”

You whimper and nod.

“Say it.”

“I—I fucking love w-when you stretch my cunt out.”

“Who’s my little slut?”

“I’m your little slut, Dee—oh, fuck—”

“That’s fucking right, baby,” he grunts, fucking you harder, faster. You clamber up his body, tugging on his hair, pulling him closer, gasping at the brilliant heat expanding at the base of your spine.

“Don’t fucking stop, don’t fucking stop, fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck,” you sob, drawing one more sharp inhale before you fall off the edge, ecstasy shattering you into a thousand pieces, then bringing you back together whole.

“Fuck yes, baby, there we go—oh my fucking god—”

Dieter’s hips drive up into you with a handful of rough, deep thrusts, while your whole body shudders and you release a choked moan. His echoes alongside yours, harmonizing in this unrestrained, unmistakably feral noise.

Every ounce of pressure held under your sweat-drenched, tingling skin deflates.

“Holy fucking shit, Dee,” you pant, ripping your sticky legs away from his, trying to find solid ground.

He lowers you to your feet, and you both stumble back a little, chests heaving, grinning at each other like mad.

“God, I love you,” he says, shaking his head as he doubles over to catch his breath, then he glances around and mutters, “I need to lay down.”

Three hard bangs against the door make you both jump.

“Are you done fucking yet?”

Your wide eyes meet his for a terrified moment, then you both burst with laughter.

“Yeah, give us a second,” Dieter calls back, then scoops his pants off the ground. After adjusting your dress and collecting your underwear, you walk to the sink to wash your hands and notice something resting between the faucet and wall: a metallic silver sharpie.

A smile spreads across your face. You grab it and hold it up to Dieter, who’s buckling his pants, “Do you want to do the honors, or should I?”

He raises his eyebrows when he glances up at you, and when he realizes what you’re implying, grins like a madman, “May I?”

You hand him the sharpie and he finds an unmarred section of black tile on which to write the message, framing the words with a frilly Valentine’s Day heart: DEE + LUA 4EVA!

[gloomwitchwrites]

You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.

Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.

I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!

Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.

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Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk

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Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.

“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.

Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”

Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.

“Excuse me.”

The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”

You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.

“—can’t decide on a television.”

Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.

Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.

“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.

“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”

Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.

You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.

Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.

“Boyfriend?” he accuses.

You shrug. “What do you mean?”

The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.

As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.

“Simon!”

He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.

Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”

Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.

Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.

Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.

“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”

“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.

You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.

Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.

But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.

As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”

The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.

As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.

You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”

Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”

They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.

Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.

“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.

Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.

“You owe me an apology,” he says.

“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

John Price

John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.

House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.

He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.

“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”

Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.

You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.

John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.

This time, John didn’t mishear you.

Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.

No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.

The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”

That’s fucking it.

Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”

The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.

“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.

You shrug. “What’s the problem?”

“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.

So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.

“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”

“No. I want to stay.”

John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”

“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”

John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”

“You won’t,” you stammer.

John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”

You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”

As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”

Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.

Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?

“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”

“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.

Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.

“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”

Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.

You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.

And it’s fucking working.

Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.

“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”

The older woman’s eyes round.

“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”

Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”

“Bite me,” you reply.

“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”

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