#ik who it is too but i have no proof

[a-healthy-dose-of-apathy]

bpd is so fucking stupid like why does my brain wanna throw a tantrum bc someone in my house drank all my coke without asking

[shot-by-cupid]

Hmmnbmmmmmm. I have some things to say

[steampunk-raven]

spider in room but everyone else is asleep so no one can help me :/ panic time i guess lol

[kavehater]

Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what

[roturo]

SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,�� you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

[jigeuminunbich]

what a girl wants | park jisung (m)

synopsis after tapping out early into your first-time, jisung refuses to be a fool in front of you again. gathering reinforcements, he arms himself in preparation to please you when the next time comes for you both to be intimate. and boy, does he learn a lot.

genre nonidol!au (inexperienced!jisung x experienced!reader), fem!reader, mature (smut), and established relationship

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

content probably needs another proof read, men explaining sex, multiple scenes of ji lasting a millisecond (jk, jk), pet-names (pretty, babe, baby), reader naturally takes on a bit of a dominate role, brief missionary, cunniligus, overstimulation, hair-pulling, unprotected probone, even more missionary, ear play + sucking, creampie, and a tiny off-hand joke about dh offering to fawk jisung

word count 6k

author’s note listen, ik virtually everyone came out of tds3 loving chenle (rightfully so) but personally, i’ve been on jisung timing since my stop teehee 🤭

I. ACT ONE

Jisung had dreamed of this moment much more than he’d care to admit to. You both had been dating for nearly a year and had yet gotten to the point of stark intimacy, well, until now.

It was breathtaking really, seeing you under him. He couldn’t believe this was his reality, that you were actually doing this with him. That was all he could think about when you first initiated it. He let you take the lead, per usual, but this time it reached a point where he was eager to agree when you asked if he was ready.

Though, at this moment, he was coming to regret that excited confirmation he had delivered earlier.

“Oh,” you verbalized from the junction of Jisung’s neck following the sudden stall in his movements. “Did you…?”

A faint whimper escapes from Jisung’s lips, visibly coming down from his evident climax. You watch as Jisung’s eyes flutter open, his face soon contorting into a look of sheer horror, dropping his head to where your bodies met to witness the scene completely for himself.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles in what you read as bewilderment, his head snapping back to speak to you.

“___, I am so sorry.” Jisung sputters out immediately.

A fond laugh fights its way through you, and you shake your head to mask it away. “No, no. It’s okay, Ji’…”

You try to comfort him, but his flushed face remains puffy with frustration. Your hands that come to coddle his bloated cheeks do little to soothe his nerves. Jisung huffs, undoubtedly upset with himself.

“Hey, look at me.” You urge his gaze to meet your own, he finds your eyes soft and a tender smile playing at your lips. Jisung finds his heart rate slowing at this, the pad of your thumb that smoothes over his tense jaw aiding in his relaxation.

“We can stop, if you want?”

Jisung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as if once he opens them back up that this moment will have never happened. But you’re still there, waiting patiently for his answer.

He thinks for a moment. There was a thought that spoke to him, to keep going as he knew how long you both had waited for this night. But the weight of his reality felt like it was physically crushing him too much to listen.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best…” He answers meekly and you reluctantly nod.

His room falls silent besides from the rustling of you assisting him with pulling out and the bed creaking under his weight as he plops in the spot next to your body. You regretfully sit up after only experiencing time on your back momentarily, sparing a solemn look to Jisung who’s large hands hide his face.

“You okay?” Your voice is gentle as you probe him.

Jisung clears his throat, revealing his face briefly when he sits up on his elbows to address you. It’s painted a furious pink from what you assume is his embarrassment and shimmers with sweat. “Yeah, I just—uh— need a minute.”

Understanding of him, you decide to slip away to handle yourself. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, watching you intently as you slide from the mattress, grabbing his once discarded tee, and trail to the nearby bathroom before disappearing behind the door.

His body meets his bed again with a thud, shielding his hot face away with his hands once again.

II. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE

It takes a number of business days before Jisung can even work up the courage to see you in person, let alone mention what had transpired that night. The memory had been gnawing away at him since, every time he blinked, or tried to sleep, your nonplus reaction to his “premature” arrival was all he could see.

There was no way he could bring it up in conversation just yet… at least not to you.

“You what?!” Renjun exclaims in absolute horror.

“He lasted thirty seconds!” Chenle gleefully responds for Jisung, still coming down from the belly-splitting laughing fit he had just went through before informing Renjun.

Brazenly (and stupidly), Jisung had decided he was fed up with his set of circumstances— trusting his best-friend and roommate, Chenle, with the information that had landed him in this unfortunate position.

But very quickly, he realized just how much of a mistake that was.

Jisung sighs frustratedly— sparing the brunette a piercing glare before angling his attention back to Renjun, “It was more like a minute and a half…”

“Oh, Jisung, that’s still not good.” Renjun comes over, slowly sitting on the opposite side of his junior.

“I know.” Jisung physically slumps in his spot, a cutesy pout on his face.

A tight-lipped, earnest smile graces Renjun’s face and he places a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you at least help her?”

Jisung asks blankly, confused. “With what?”

Renjun pauses alongside Chenle, both of them sharing a horrified look while Jisung looks between them like a neonate dear.

“You didn’t help her?!” Chenle screeches, eyes bulging and eyebrows angled in complete confusion.

“Do what?!” Jisung bellows, now frustrated.

“Jisung, even I know what you’re supposed to do for your girlfriend in the event you.. finish early…” Renjun voices deeply and careful enough for his friend’s digestion.

Jisung pauses for a moment, picking apart Renjun’s words before making a face of understanding.“I— oh, well she said she’d take care of it!”

“Still,” Renjun sighs, taking a moment to calm himself. “you’re supposed to offer, man.”

“I’ve got to tell Mark about this…” Chenle shakes his head, already typing in the group chat.

III. SECOND OPINION(S)

“Dude…”

Mark’s face is twisted in an expression Jisung can only decipher as disbelief, a common emotion he’s encountered since filling in his friend group on his situation.

“I know, I know. It’s not a good look.”

Donghyuck scoffs amusedly, having stopped in on the conversation after overhearing the absurd topic. “It’s an awful look, actually. How do you cum in thirty seconds without getting your girl off after?”

“It wasn’t—“ Jisung sighs, gathering himself. “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing.” He recedes, sinking into the material of the couch that supported him, Mark, and Jaemin.

“Well, ___ knows this, right?” Jeno pipes from beside Donghyuck after remaining silent the whole debriefing session.

Jisung shifts in his spot, shrinking from the burning gazes of his friends as they wait for him to overshare. “Yeah, I mean, we talked about it before. But she has experience, and— I dunno— I thought I’d at least do okay…”

“Ah, Jisung. No ones ever perfect doing anything for the first time.” Jaemin plants a rather rough yet consoling pat on the younger’s back.

“I was.” Donghyuck interjects, a smug look on his face while shrugging his shoulders.

Renjun scoffs, shoving the back of the former’s head from his positioning— leaning over the same couch Donghyuck happened to be sprawled across. “You cried.”

“Aht!“ Donghyuck rubs his head, snapping around to correct his friend. “That was the second time!”

Mark sighs deeply, drawing the attention away from his friends’ squabble. “Jisung, have you both talked about it since?”

Jisung anxiously plays with his ear, pouting. “Well, no, even if I wanted to I just don’t know what I’d say…” It was a true concern for him. He had muddled over the scenario in his about a dozen times at this point, and every time he couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to you— even if you weren’t even really there.

“Sorry for only lasting thirty seconds?” Chenle wickedly suggests, earning yet another warning glare from Jisung.

“Ou, if you don’t know how to say it, you could always get a cake!” Donghyuck piles on, promptly earning another wack to his head— this time Jeno is the unamused culprit.

“Look, next time you see her, just be honest.” Jaemin advises, effectively drowning out the whining of his battered friend who claimed Chenle deserves the lashings because he commented first.

Jisung nods, considering it but not with another issue forming in his mind. “Okay, well… what about… you know...”

“The sex?” A handful of them chime in response.

The younger boy’s lips form a tight, shy line, obviously still finding the topic a bit taboo. “Yes, yes— that. What am I supposed to do? I don’t want a repeat of last time…”

“Just watch a bunch of porn, that’s what I did.” Donghyuck recommends, still testing his luck.

Exhausted, Renjun simply lets his eyes pierce into the back of his friend’s head for a moment before sighing.

“How about we don’t do that and just give you some pointers, hmm?”

Jisung claps his hands together, liking that nugget of advice way more than Donghyuck’s, who sits offended, tongue infamously poking his cheek.

“Okay, sounds good.”

IV. H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101

Now, when Jisung was told that everyone would be meeting in he, Chenle, and Renjun’s shared living room to “give him pointers”, he didn’t necessarily expect to be surrounded by his friends while his television displayed a slide show.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck ran the operation with his laptop perched on the armrest on the opposite couch, even after his treatment the other night.

“Alright, Jisung, welcome to how to please and satisfy your girl 1-0-1!” Donghyuck stands at the center of the room, gesturing towards the screen that projects the title ‘H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101’— along with throwaway stock photos of couples experiencing varied emotions.

“Woah. Did you make this?” Jisung voices, foolishly impressed with his friend’s set-up.

Donghyuck’s facials drop, “No. It was already a template on Canva.” He deadpans while Jisung makes a motion of understanding.

Collectively, his friends blink ludicrously at Jisung’s naïveté. “He made it, Jisung-ie…” Jaemin clarifies slowly.

“Ah,” the latter nods, embarrassment creeping up his skin.

Donghyuck shakes his head before putting the attention back on the screen where he flips to the next slide, automatically does Jisung pull out his phone to retain the coming information.

“Okay, first rule, don’t come in thirty seconds.”

A cacophony of snickers and tittering emerge from the group at Jisung’s expense.

“I— how long are you guys gonna run with this?” Jisung cringes, regretting all over again even including the detail of his duration.

The man in the center staggers back into his spot, pretending to wipe away fallen tears. “I’m sorry it’s too funny…”

“Now! It may seem hard but the last thing we want is a redo of what happened last time, yes?” Jisung nods shamefully, lips tight.

“Next rule, be a giver. Down the line you can find out whether or not she prefers it but to start, you wanna take charge and get your girl off.”

Jisung hums, his focus being the ever growing list on his phone-screen. Curious, Jeno peers over at him.

“A—are you seriously taking notes?” He furrows his brows at the open tab in Jisung’s notes app.

“Hey, he’s a diligent learner!” Donghyuck waves a warning finger towards Jeno before turning to reassure Jisung. “Don’t worry, Jisung, the best students study.”

He addresses his older friend’s defense of him briefly, already having questions about the lesson. “When we say… get her off— what do you mean?”

“Eat her out, Jisung.” Chenle interjects flatly.

“Oh.” Jisung’s head bobs slowly. “And how do I do that?”

The “teacher” sucks his teeth, “Christ, do we have to teach you everything?”

Jisung just blinks in response, earning a tired sigh from Donghyuck, “I’ll send you some material after class.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods.

“Third rule! Take it slow. Kind of ties back into rule one but can be used elsewhere. Listen, I know you’re a bit of a fumbling mess but at least try and make it seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the directed jab, Jisung continues to diligently jot down Donghyuck’s advice.

“What does ___ like, do you know?” Mark pipes.

“Sexually?” The boy’s eyes go wide, a bit startled.

Mark snorts, “I’m not asking for her favorite food, man,”

Jisung breathes out a sheepish laugh, “Ah, well, she’s kinda sensitive around the ears…”

Donghyuck claps, startling Jisung but effectively grabbing his attention, “Alright, involve that! Kiss, lick, suck for all I care. You gotta do something that’ll turn her on, you can’t just whip your dick out and stop there, got it?”

“Got it.” Jisung re-affirms, intently copying down every word that leaves his friends’ mouths.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” Donghyuck nods, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank god.” Jaemin sighs exasperatedly, earning himself a warning look from Donghyuck. The latter rolls his eyes, smiling at Jisung who overviews what he’s learnt so far.

“You seem like you picked up well, I’ll quiz you after you watch the material.”

Jeno snorts, “You do know you’re not an actual teacher, right?”

Donghyuck smugly smirks, propping his hands onto his hips.

“Don’t be a hater, Jen’. If you want a lesson, you can just ask. Don’t think I forgot about what Iseul said— agh!” Swiftly, Jeno starts strangling Donghyuck to cut him off, the ladder dramatically flopping on the couch behind him and taking the older boy with him.

Using the commotion to his advantage, Renjun swoops in to take a seat next to Jisung, who quietly reviews his notes in the midst of the chaos.

“And Jisung,”

“Hmm?” The younger glances up from his notes.

“Don’t forget that the reason we’re here is because ___ likes you. Not what you can do for her in bed or any tricks these idiots are telling you to do…”

“Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we all mean well— even Donghyuck— but what matters most is that you’re yourself. That’s what ___’s most attracted to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jisung answers hesitantly.

“Right. Maybe you should watch that video Donghyuck sends you, though.” Renjun suggests a bit quieter, though his urgency remains evident.

Jisung laughs at his older friend, nodding in understanding. “Will do!”

V. ACT TWO

The next you spend genuine alone time with Jisung is two weeks following the whole incident, you’re grateful that he’s grown comfortable again with skin-ship. Missing nights like these where you two were able to wordlessly cuddle up together without an evident damper hanging over the room. Of course, you’d love to address that night. Maybe even give it another try but unless Jisung makes it clear that he’s comfortable with it, you suppress any and all thoughts about it.

Much to your liking, the night carried on like usual. No roommates to interrupt your skinship, or to witness the chaste kisses you gave each other. But in the midst of watching the second film Jisung had gladly let you choose— you realize just how touchy he’s getting.

A typical reserved hand that would be perched on your hip was playing with the hem of your shorts, igniting the bare skin with every brief graze.

Curious, you angle your head upwards on Jisung’s shoulder, immediately drawing his attention from the screen and down to you.

“You okay?” You inquire, an eyebrow raising. You tried to hide your excitement but the grin that found your features was an obvious giveaway that you were losing.

Jisung simply hums, his hands still stationed in their new territory. You nod, “Okay…” and instinctively crane your head up to signal a kiss.

Quickly, Jisung obliges, meeting you halfway and connecting your lips. Your intent was for it to be just like the other kisses that happened tonight. Quick, sweet, no alternative intent, but that was clearly not Jisung’s shared intention.

When you depart, he follows, and you have no problem in giving him what he wants. The kiss is extended, the hand on your thigh tightening in grip. You match Jisung’s vigor, equally biting at his lips and easing your tongue in his mouth when his own licks at your entrance. But you have to say you were not expecting this.

Soon, Jisung’s body was angled nearly on top of you and he showed no signs of stopping. Both hands now on your waist as he titled you backwards, still intently keeping your mouths fixed together.

“Oh, hello?” You manage to get out.

“Hi.”

Jisung takes control, which is very unusual since typically you’ll straddle him when making out. But you allow it to happen, your back meeting the bed as Jisung kisses you passionately. This kiss is much different than one you’ve ever shared with him, normally he’s way more reserved— even before your first time he was shy, but obviously a fire has been lit under him to redeem himself.

You’re the first to pull away, not moving far but just enough to be able to catch your breath. Jisung has never kissed you speechless before, but you’re okay if this was to become your new reality.

“Jisung…”

He ignores you, kissing down your neck while his large hands grope you. He's hungry, his teeth grazing against your skin in rotation with his suckling but his bruises still feel like heaven— you didn’t even know he was capable of leaving such marks.

Jisung’s cold hands are suddenly under your shirt, lifting the large garment that once belonged to him over your naked breasts. One of them even snaking down to your thin sleep shorts while the other remains to thumb at your now perked nipples.

“Oh— Jisung, wait!” Pausing your pleasure to confront your boyfriend.

He looks at you in surprise, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask carefully.

“I wanna make you feel good…” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you blink— slowly gathering yourself as Jisung continues to kiss down your abdomen and eventually to the center of your legs.

You stutter when you feel his hot breath on your core, it’s been so long you’ve had anything like this, you hate to say you’ve been waiting on it but fuck— you have been.

“Ji…” your hand cups the back of his nape, the other replacing his hand that once toyed with your chest.

Jisung gazes up at you, a look that reads that he’s asking you for permission. He quickly drinks up how he’s got you, shirt pushed to your over your breasts— leaving them on display, you look down at him— almost pained while you wait for his next move, lip tucked in between your teeth— a thumb to your own nipple.

Final inch of resolve snapping, Jisung flattens his warm tongue over your sleep shorts, humming instantaneously when his muscle meets the fabric. It’s lewd but he can’t help himself, especially when he encounters the already wet stain in the seat of your bottoms. He quickly gets to work, though, savagely his tongue ravishes you with one measly layer keeping him from fully tasting you.

The sight is one to see, your routinely sweet and respectful boyfriend with his head between your legs— tongue lapping and dancing around your cunt through your shorts.

You can barely take anymore, you need him. You didn’t care what his level of skill was, you needed more stimulation than this.

Jisungs jumps back a bit when you sit up to interrupt him, the shorts being slipped off. “Ji, please, please, keep going,” both of your legs are back on either side of his head, this time your bare, silky cunt on full display. No longer hidden by the baby blue bottoms.

You’re practically begging, your hips involuntarily shifting closer and closer to Jisung’s face as you wait. Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes, you’ve never really begged for him before. Not like this, so vulnerable. His tent had pitched ages ago but the strain he felt watching you now was a different kind of pain.

His newfound confidence falters a bit, wordlessly nodding up at you with wet eyes before obediently lapping at your cunt again. You throw your head back as a whimper rips through you, shifting back onto your elbows to play with your chest again. Not forgetting to keep one hand anchored in Jisung’s hair.

His movements are cautious at first, proving that this is definitely his first time but once he finds a pace that seemingly fits you best, he carries on with it. He alternates between sucking your throbbing clit to dipping his tongue deeper in your folds to tongue at your hole. You’d ask him where he learned that from but you’re too caught up with how good it feels that the question burns out on your tongue.

Before you know it, you’re close to coming already. With it being so long since you've had this, paired with the uncontrollable moans Jisung emits as he restlessly laps up all your juices, you can’t take much more.

“Fuck, Jisung. I’m close…”

Jisung hums, unaware just what that does for you. You whine pulling his hair tighter, in return it’s his turn to whimper. It’s uncomfortable, as he’s realized from the past times you’ve tugged his hair but he would never stop you.

“God, please don’t stop,” With Jisung’s locks entirely in your grasp, you can’t stop yourself from grinding your cunt upwards. Jisung takes a beat to adjust but realizes what you want, he shifts down a bit. The tip of his nose giving your clit the friction it so desperately desires while his tongue draws sloppy circles around your entrance.

You groan, the knot in your stomach tightening. You’re almost intelligible with your blubbering but Jisung manages to make out that you’re— in fact— about to come.

Jisung takes what he’s learned from his lessons and even earlier from this encounter and lets his tongue dip in and out of your hole faintly, giving you little stimulation that leads you closer while you grind on his face.

His quick shift leads your orgasm to come crashing down on you. Jisung’s face is pulled flush to your pussy as you come but he could care less, he watches keenly with wide eyes as you lurch upward, riding his face until you finally come down completely.

His room is still for a moment but Jisung is so absolutely enthralled with the moment and how he’s just made you unravel before him. Gluttonous, he doesn’t wait much longer before he’s dipping back into your folds. Lapping at you and especially your hole, he feels like a madman. The taste of you sends shivers down his spine, your surprised noises only egging him on.

“Oh my god, Ji! Wait, wait, oh,” the intrusion of Jisung’s middle finger is completely foreign but welcomed.

Where the hell was he learning this all from?

Jisung continues to work you open, never neglecting your folds and clit for a moment.

“Ji, if you don’t stop,” you shudder, trying to gather your bearings. “I’m gonna come.”

“Want it,” he moans against your pussy. “Do it again for me, pretty.”

It feels as if you’ve been thrown into the Twilight Zone. Never has Jisung said your nickname in such a tone, so deep and dripping with lust. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, taking your mind off his dual stimulation for just a moment.

With the addition of Jisung’s lengthy digit that now pops in and out of you, it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, you cry out for your boyfriend again— this time instinctively begging for some control. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, it’s like he’s dead set on keeping his face between your legs, it’s becoming too much at this point. If you two were gonna do this, you wanted him to get something out of it too.

“Fuck, Jisung, too much!”

Jisung snaps from his reverie, all of his ministrations drawing back with his head peeking from between your thighs in concern. You’re finally able to catch your breath, smiling down at him to quell his apparent anxiety. Shyly, he smiles back.

He clears his throat, “Are you okay?”

You laugh at this, still struggling to stabilize your breathing while your body pulsed with what could either be desire or exhaustion. “I am. Better than ever, actually. Are you?”

“Mhm. I uh— I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No, Ji, I just don’t think I’d be able to take another orgasm just yet.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods.

You giggle at him, how insane was it that he completely left you dumbstruck on two separate occasions just seconds ago and was acting all reserved the next.

“C’mere,” you open up your arms to him. He rushes to you. Giving you what you want and joining your lips. He's completely unaware just how wet his face is until it’s on your’s and he finds it a bit embarrassing.

But you don’t falter at all, instead kissing him deeply while your hands unmistakably find the boner hitched in his sweats.

Jisung stutters, physically jolting out of the kiss. “Uh, do you wanna move onto that so soon?”

“Well, I don’t want to be the only one who gets off. That’s not fair to you, is it?”

“I’ll be happy as long as you’re satisfied…”

“Ji,” you wipe away your juices that have gathered on his chin.

“Hmm?”

“I’m only satisfied when I know you are too, now, strip.”

Jisung nearly lets a ‘yes, ma’am’ slip from his throat before he hurriedly slips off his clothes. You laugh at how cute he is, removing your own shirt.

“Now, boss, how do you wanna do this?”

“Uh— however you want—“

“Jisung.”

He sighs at the call of his name from your lips, gulping as you stare up to him. “How about… on your stomach?”

“Oh? You don’t want to see my pretty face, hmm?”

“No! I mean, of course I do! You don’t have to—“

“Ji, baby, I’m fucking with you. I’d love to.” with that you roll over, grabbing one of Jisung’s pillows before slipping it under you.

“Oh.” Jisung sighs, the sight of you obeying him and propping yourself up effectively sending more strain to his member.

“Well don’t stop now, come on,” you reach a hand back for Jisung to grab. He obliges, walking to the edge of the bed, and grabbing your hand. He recalls this position from the couple of ”study materials” Donghyuck had sent and he joins you on the bed, shuffling on his knees till his cock hovers your ass.

You shift under him, hiking your ass higher to encourage him to stick his length in. He takes the message and grips his cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before.

When he finally lines himself up and sinks inside of you, he hisses while you whimper. Jisung’s hands are practically godsend but nothing, and you mean nothing compares to his dick. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since your first time. And always found yourself a tad bit disappointed whenever he would turn you down following it.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so big, baby,” you groan, trying to adjust as his heavy cock continues to stretch you open.

Jisung can only huff, holding onto his last ounce of control. He's about to come, he can feel it. His hips still, knowing if he moves anymore he’ll end up spoiling this again.

“Oh, please keep moving,” you whine, taking matters into your own hands and pushing your hips back to pick up where he has left off.

“Shit, ___, wait—“ Jisung braces his broad hands against your back, stilling you for a moment. Your head cranes back, concerned but still evidently in need.

“I— I’m about to come…” he speaks weakly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Which he absolutely is.

You pout, confused with his display of shame.

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t stop, please, I need you.” The sound of you begging while continuing to grind your ass on his cock sends Jisung absolutely reeling. His eyes squeeze shut, sighing heavily before allowing you to meet him halfway. Your own movements make you purr in delight, you continue to grind against him, and Jisung finds his hips moving too.

He snaps into you, chasing your cunt when you pull away. You moan in surprise, Jisung finally melting and leaning down to stabilize himself as his hips find a shallow pace.

He groans, hiding his flustered face in the junction of your shoulder.

“___…” Jisung pants.

“It’s okay, you can come, fuck, come for me, baby…”

It takes one sharp thrust before Jisung completely loses himself, releasing an almost pained groan into your neck. He continues to jaggedly move in and out of you while you feel him release himself in you, his load spurting along your walls and escaping onto the surrounding areas.

You helplessly moan at the feeling, a bit disappointed when your boyfriend’s eager hips cease to a stop.

“Hmm. Feel better?” You lilt, propping your chin on your shoulder to get the best glimpse of him.

Jisung shudders, breathing out a small laugh. “Yeah, I— sorry…”

“It’s okay, babe. Now, pull out.”

“Hmm? Oh, right!” He heeds to your directions, easing out of you but not without some slither of sadness. He had done it again. Sure, he made you cum but he barely lasted a few minutes inside of you like he had hoped.

Promptly, you shuffle onto your back, cracking your legs open. Shocked, Jisung’s gaze drops to your cunt, now messily decorated with a glistening mix of his semen, saliva, and your own cum.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Jisung blinks because he absolutely thought you two were finished for the night. You chuckle, hooking your legs around Jisung’s thighs.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Ji’…”

It’s hard for Jisung to shield his excitement, gladly positioning himself in front of you. He grips himself to align with you once again, allowing his other hand to plant by your head.

He could die right now and be absolutely satisfied, Jisung thinks as you suck him back in your walls. His face hovers your own, watching intently as your features scrunches in pleasure.

Quickly adjusting to the sensation of him stretching you out again, you take note of how statuesque he is,“Move, babe.” You gently remind.

“Right, sorry—“ Jisung takes a moment to laugh at himself, garnering an endeared smile from you.

Your hands extend up to hold his face. “No more apologizing, okay?” Jisung nods along with you in response, his heart swelling at your tender act of affection despite him being several inches inside of you.

“Okay, sor— ahem, okay…” you giggle at his immediate slip up, and Jisung arranges his hips in a way that instantly takes your mind off of it, starting to rock into you once more, now both having climaxed once (or twice, in your case)— sensitivity strikes you both but there’s no way that was gonna stop either of you.

“Feel so good,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, innocently, keeping his rhythm as sound as possible.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, okay?”

“I won’t.” Jisung solidifies, finding confidence in being able to see your face and how you visually react to his movements. His hips begin to reel back a greater distance, snapping into you with a fervor that leaves you crying for more.

The obscene sound of Jisung’s thighs repeatedly crashing into your own fill the room, paired with the whine of his name from your lips and the sploshing sound of the wetness between your legs.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s voice echoes in his mind, but for good reason. Removing himself from your hold a bit, Jisung leans down to start pecking your ear.

You hum in satisfaction, shuddering under him.

He knew you well, he could still recall the first time he accidentally grazed the area of your ear with his lips. You lurched away with embarrassment washing over you but he had found it to be one of the cutest things in the world. Not many things could pacify you like that, but a little love to your ear did.

You arch yourself into your boyfriend when his tongue darts out of his mouth to flick the shell of your ear, your new positioning encouraging the depth of Jisung’s length. It doesn’t help that Jisung has found his pacing, a mind-numbing repetition of the head of his cock grazing the precise spot that leaves your vision spotty with stars.

“Shit, M’gonna come,” you aimlessly exclaim, the strength you’d usually have to filter your thoughts from useless babble existing no longer.

Jisung hums, continuing to lap at your ear, taking Donghyuck’s nonchalant advice and running with it. You gasp in elation when you feel Jisung suckle at your ear, nipping it before it leaves his mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this?” Restless, you bring his face back to meet yours, you find your boyfriend’s pupils completely blown out and eyes lidded heavily. You trace his furrowed eyebrows to his parted puffy lips.

Jisung leans down, your inquiry not reaching him whatsoever. Your lips meet and you whimper into the kiss, it’s wet and noisy. Your muscles searching for the best taste of each other.

Your third orgasm was barrelling towards you quickly, and you find yourself looking for anything to give you stability. Mindlessly, your hand traces the distance from Jisung’s face to one of his hands that remains planted on the bed beside you.

Without a second thought does he intertwine your fingers, pressing your joined palms into the mattress as he begins to lose momentum.

“Please keep going,” you wail. ”I’m gonna come.”

Jisung nods, his lips tucked between his teeth as he tries to keep himself together for you. He watched you contort and writhe in pleasure, now becoming familiar with your body’s pattern before a climax.

Your free hand travels to Jisung’s broad back, leaving traces of yourself with savagely placed scratches. He winces, the sting of your fingernails against his back throwing him off but simultaneously driving him to keep going. His own features scrunching to alert you that he himself was close to snapping.

“Ah, please, please—!” You whine, bracing yourself, deliberately pulling Jisung flush to you the best you could to milk to most friction out of him as possible. Your shallow yank is enough to have the large man toppling over and on top of you.

The desired stimulation of your clit grazing against Jisung is enough to coax your next orgasm out of you. You cum, angling your hips to take as much as Jisung could still offer. It doesn’t take long for him to be right there with you, whining while his hips buck aimlessly into you. Your sounds are equal in desperation, both racing to chase your highs.

“Oh.” Your hands aid Jisung’s hips toward you as he continues to release his seed inside of you until he finally fully collapses onto your body.

Serenity returns to Jisung’s room, the pair of you well past the point of exhaustion to move an inch. Jisung, seemingly coming to, is the first to move (much to your dismay). He grunts, peeling himself from your sticky with sweat body and peering down at you for a moment.

It lingers, his study of you. And typically, he was the one who would shy away from such intense eye contact but you find your eyes flitting away first. You’ve never had someone be so engrossed with you, with your satisfaction, so worried with pleasing you.

Jisung breathes out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, equally as giddy.

“You’re shy?”

“No,” you suck your teeth, fighting the smile that threatens to give you away, “just wanna know why you’re staring…”

“Mm. Is staring at my pretty girlfriend so wrong?”

“…Hmm,” you pause as if you’re thinking for a moment. “No. I guess not.” You shrug.

“Good.” Jisung bends down to peck your lips before fully removing himself from on top of you. He sighs when his back flops on the bed beside you.

“Okay but seriously, where the hell did all of that come from?”

Jisung chuckles at the urgency in your voice, shifting to lay on his side. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Pfft. After tonight I think I’m more open to any possibilities…”

“Hmm… okay, it was Donghyuck.” Jisung admits bashfully.

Immediately does your mouth gape open in absolute disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“See!”

“Donghyuck—? He taught you all of that?!”

“Well, I studied and kind of just… went with the flow I guess?” Jisung shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“Wow. For a second there I was scared he gave you one-on-one lessons…”

“Woah,” Jisung blinks, shocked that you precisely assumed what he had purposefully left out of the exchange. “Believe it or not, he tried.”

“I believe it,” You giggle, the ridiculous image flashing in your mind and leaving just as quick as it came.

“I guess I have to give him his flowers then.” you sigh, a hand extending to brush away Jisung’s fallen fringe so you can fully see his face. He fights a smile back, helping you by sweeping his hair back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I don’t think I have to tell you how great you were.” You snort, gesturing to your tired body. Jisung gladly follows your gaze, admiring your bareness once more.

Jisung hums, throwing an arm around your damp abdomen to tug you closer into him. You wordlessly oblige, sighing contently when your skin meets his again.

“Well, I think you were the star.” Jisung comments softly, his face now in your neck.

You coo silently, instinctively placing a hand on his jaw. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I can’t,” Jisung’s gaze shifts to your face when you tilt his head up.

“Not when you helped me through three orgasms.”

You peck your boyfriend’s lips as a form of punctuation. Though, you’re not able to drift far since Jisung’s mouth chases your own, deepening your once innocent kiss. You’re tired and your lips are beyond bruised but you just can’t help yourself. The way he hums from underneath you only intensifies your need for him.

While your mouth moves against his with conviction, tonguing at his lips to allow you more freedom, he finds his hands gravitating to your hips to give him some stability. Jisung sighs discontentedly when your lips disconnect, his eyes remaining shut for a beat before fluttering back open.

“Well, how do you feel about a fourth?” Jisung proposes carefully, though his expression shows that he’s clearly desperate for your agreement and for your lips to return to his own.

Quickly, your eyes widen in astonishment. “Really? Are you sure—?” Your worries are cut short by Jisung’s mouth. It’s short but effective in getting his point across.

He pulls away, an amused smirk on his face. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you giggle, finding yourself incredibly aroused by Jisung’s newfound confidence. You would certainly have to thank Donghyuck in some way for this abrupt change in your boyfriend’s behavior, unfortunately.

“Well let's not waste time then…”

© jigueminunbich 2024

[jaylalolz]

⌗ ┆𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 . . . nicholas chavez

★┊[ fem!reader x nicholas.c ] .ᐟ

SUMMARY, after spotting a stranger staring at her across the club, things swiftly escalated when he brought her in for a dance.

A/N, i lwk hate this but it’s wtv😔 didn’t proof read so lmk if there’s any mistakes AND ik it’s long i’m srry💔

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

The music in the bar throbbed with a steady pulse, the bass vibrating through the floor. Bodies moved rhythmically under dim neon lights, and the scent of alcohol mixed with the sharp tang of spilled beer. She sat alone at the edge of the bar, fingers tracing the rim of her half-empty glass, feeling a little abandoned. Her friend, who had been so excited for a girls’ night out, had ditched her to hit the dance floor the moment her favorite song came on. Typical.

Her gaze drifted over the crowd, idly watching as people swayed and laughed. She sighed, the sense of isolation creeping in as the noise of the bar seemed to amplify her loneliness. Just as she was about to check her phone for a distraction, she felt a prickling sensation, the kind that told her someone was staring at her.

She looked up, scanning the room, and her eyes locked with his.

He was leaning casually against the far wall, partly obscured by shadows. His features were sharp, confident, framed by messy dark hair that suited him far too well. The man was tall, his broad shoulders relaxed in a leather jacket that looked worn in all the right places. His eyes, though, were what held her captive. Intense, unwavering, like he was studying her. She shifted in her seat, feeling an unexpected warmth rise in her cheeks. Why wasn’t he looking away?

She considered breaking the eye contact, but something kept her gaze locked on his. There was something magnetic about the way he watched her. Not in a creepy, predatory way, but with an intensity that made her feel like the only person in the room.

The bartender interrupted her thoughts, sliding a fresh drink in front of her with a practiced ease.

“I didn’t order this,” she said, puzzled.

The bartender leaned in slightly, his voice low enough to be heard over the music. “The guy in the corner paid for it,” he said, gesturing subtly in the direction of the mysterious stranger.

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced back toward him, and sure enough, the guy was still looking at her. He lifted his drink slightly, a silent toast in her direction, before taking a slow sip. She hesitated for a moment, unsure what to make of it all, but she wasn’t the type to shy away from something that intrigued her.

“Thanks,” she muttered to the bartender, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a cautious sip. It was good. Better than what she’d been drinking before. She stood up, smoothing her dress and trying to calm the flutter of nerves that had sprung to life in her stomach.

She walked across the room toward him, weaving through the throngs of people until she stood just a few feet away. Up close, he was even more striking, his chiseled features more defined in the low light. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said, tilting her glass toward him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, his voice deep and smooth. “I wanted to. You looked like you could use something better than whatever it was you were drinking.” She laughed softly, relaxing a little. “Was it that obvious?”

He smirked, his gaze never leaving hers. “Just a guess. I also figured you could use some company. Your friend seems… occupied.”

She glanced over at the dance floor where her friend was still lost in the music, completely unaware of the world outside her rhythm. “Yeah, she does that.”

He extended a hand toward an empty chair beside him. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

She hesitated for only a second before sitting down, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease as they fell into a comfortable conversation. His presence was easy, his humor dry but charming, and before long, she found herself forgetting she had ever felt alone at all.

As they talked, she found herself losing track of time, drawn into the smooth flow of his words and the way his voice rumbled low in his chest. He was sharp, witty, but not in a showy way—more like he spoke with quiet confidence, leaving space for her to fill the conversation. Every now and then, his gaze would flicker down to her lips before meeting her eyes again, and it sent a little thrill through her that she couldn’t quite explain.

At some point, there was a pause in the conversation. He looked at her for a moment, his expression softening.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and sincere, “you’ve got this way about you. It’s hard to put into words, but… you stand out. Even in a place like this.”

Her breath hitched a little at the compliment, unexpected in its simplicity yet so direct. She wasn’t used to being noticed in that way, especially in a crowded bar. “Is that your way of saying I look out of place?” she teased, though her voice was quieter than she intended.

He shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Not at all. I mean… yeah, you’re different. But in a good way.” His eyes flickered over her, not in a way that felt disrespectful, but appreciative. “You look incredible, and the way you carry yourself… it’s hard not to notice.”

Heat crept into her cheeks again, and she quickly looked down at her drink, swirling it around to avoid holding his gaze too long. “You’re smooth, you know that?” she said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“I try,” he replied with a laugh, leaning back a little, his confidence as effortless as ever. “But only when the moment calls for it.”

Before she could think of a reply, he stood up, offering his hand to her. His eyes met hers, playful yet serious all at once. “What do you say we ditch sitting here for a bit? I’ve been wanting to ask you to dance since I saw you across the room.”

She hesitated for a split second, glancing at the crowded dance floor where her friend was still somewhere in the mix of people. Then, she looked back at him, the way he stood there with his hand extended, waiting patiently, his smile just a little crooked but completely genuine.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she admitted, though the idea of being close to him made her heart race in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of dancing skills.

He shrugged, his smile widening. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, it’s not about being a great dancer—it’s just about having fun.”

The words were enough to make her decision. She slipped her hand into his, feeling the warmth of his touch, and let him lead her toward the dance floor.

The music grew louder as they moved onto the dance floor, the bass pulsing through the crowd. Bodies swayed in sync with the rhythm, and the neon lights cast a soft glow over everything, creating a sense of intimacy despite the chaotic energy of the bar.

He turned to face her, his hand still holding hers, and with a small, easy smile, he pulled her gently into the beat.

At first, their movements were cautious, testing the waters of the moment. She could feel the warmth of his body close to hers as they danced, their steps naturally syncing with the slow, sensual rhythm of the music.

Then, with a confidence that made her stomach flip, he slipped his hands to her waist, his touch firm but not too much.

His fingertips pressed gently against her hips, guiding her movements in time with the beat. She felt the heat of him through her dress, the steady pressure of his hands making it impossible to ignore the way their bodies were starting to move together.

She inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she glanced up at him. His eyes were on hers, dark and focused, but there was a softness there, a silent communication that made the crowded room feel like it was just the two of them.

His grip tightened slightly as their bodies moved closer. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, steadying herself as they fell deeper into the rhythm. Their bodies pressed together, the space between them disappearing with each beat of the music. He was taller, broader, and as they swayed, she could feel the heat radiating off him, making her heart race.

The closeness felt dangerous in the best way possible—intoxicating, the same way the lights and the liquor had blurred her senses. She let him pull her in tighter, her body fitting against his like it was inevitable.

The song built, the beat dropping harder, and they moved together, the space between them disappearing. His touch was enough, his breath warm against her neck as he leaned in, whispering something she couldn’t make out over the music. It didn’t matter. She just let herself sink into the moment, her mind too fuzzy to question it.

Her heart was racing now, faster than the music, faster than the flashing lights around them. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of him—a sharp jawline, dark eyes that glinted in the low light, lips parted as though he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just moved with her, like he had been waiting all night for this moment too.

The room around them felt like it was disappearing, the other dancers fading into the background, the colors swirling around them like they were in their own world. Everything was heightened—the heat of his body, the slick sheen of sweat on her skin, the heavy pulse of the music vibrating through them both.

She tilted her head slightly, catching his gaze again, and the intensity there made her breath hitch. He leaned down, just a little, so his lips were close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"You're a better dancer than you think" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music but still sending a shiver down her spine.

She smiled, biting her bottom lip as her fingers unconsciously curled into the fabric of his jacket. "Maybe I just needed the right partner."

He leaned down, his breath warm and sweet with liquor, barely brushing her ear as he spoke over the music. “Come with me,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the noise like it was meant only for her.

Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head up slightly, letting the question hang between them as she studied him—his sharp features softened by the dim, swirling lights, the shadow of a five o’clock stubble catching the glow of the neon. There was a pull there, something magnetic, reckless.

“To the bathroom,” he added, his voice just above a whisper now, as though the words were something illicit, dangerous. His fingers brushed against hers as he said it, not pushing, just offering.

The suggestion was bold, maybe too bold, but it was like the music, the lights, and the drinks had made the room feel less real. Everything was slowed down but intense, like the rest of the world didn’t matter, like there were no consequences.

Her eyes flicked to the back of the club, where the hallway to the bathrooms stretched in dim, shadowy light. A rush of heat surged through her chest. She was buzzed, lightheaded from the alcohol, and she could still feel the lingering heat from where his hands had been, the press of his body on hers. Part of her knew what this was, the kind of night it could become. The other part of her… didn’t care. Not right now.

She raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, teasing the space between them. “Why?” she asked, her voice smooth but playful, challenging him.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a second, there was something dark and electric in the way he smiled. “Because you want to,” he said simply, his fingers sliding over her wrist, thumb tracing her pulse.

The world felt hazy, but his words rang clear, cutting through the fog of music and alcohol. He was right. She could feel it in the way her skin buzzed, in the wild, impulsive energy that had been building all night.

The bass dropped again, the lights flickering in rhythm, casting them both in a wash of blue and red. She looked over at the hallway, then back at him. Her heart pounded, the music matching its beat.

He didn’t wait for her to respond, not with words anyway. His hand slid down from her wrist, fingers curling lightly around hers, and he tugged her toward the back of the club. It wasn’t forceful—just enough to make her follow, the thrill of it buzzing through her veins as they wove through the crowd. People were everywhere—sweaty, laughing, lost in the music—but they moved around them like ghosts, fading into the background.

The hallway stretched out in front of them, narrow and dimly lit. The bass from the club still pounded through the walls, muffled but insistent, like it was never going to let her go. The door to the bathroom was ahead, half-open, flickering neon lights spilling out from under the frame.

When they reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped aside to let her in first. She hesitated for a split second, her breath catching in her throat, but something about the way he stood there, waiting, watching her with those dark eyes—it pulled her in.

The moment she stepped inside, the world changed. The lights overhead were a deep, glowing red, casting everything in a heavy, almost suffocating warmth. It felt like walking into another dimension, the kind where reality was left behind, and only this moment, this feeling, mattered. The air smelled faintly of something sweet and metallic, the scent mixing with the distant echoes of music from the club.

The first thing she noticed was the mirror—massive, dominating the center of the room. It stretched from one side of the wall to the other, reflecting the blood-red lights in strange, almost surreal angles. In front of the mirror, a long, sleek sink stretched out, polished and pristine, the dark surface reflecting the glowing lights above.

He stepped in behind her, closing the door softly with a click that seemed too loud for the heavy silence of the room. She caught his reflection in the mirror, his eyes locked on her as he moved closer, his body heat seeping into her skin as he came up behind her again. The red light turned his face into something dangerous, casting shadows under his jaw, across his sharp cheekbones.

Her hands found the edge of the sink, fingers curling around it, steadying herself as her reflection stared back at her, bathed in red. The lights made her skin glow in a way that felt almost unreal, and in the reflection, she could see him too, standing just behind her, watching her through the mirror like a predator sizing up its prey.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, the space between them shrinking until there was none left. His fingers brushed her waist, slow and deliberate, like he was still waiting for her to make the next move. For a moment, the world narrowed down to the feeling of his touch, the throb of the music still pounding faintly through the walls, the glow of the red light bathing them both.

In the mirror, his eyes met hers, dark and intense, filled with a challenge. Neither of them spoke, but the air between them was thick, heavy with the things they weren’t saying. She could feel her pulse in her throat, the tension wrapping around her chest like a coil.

He leaned in even closer, his lips barely grazing her ear as he whispered, “Would you let me do whatever I wanted to you?”

The question lingered in the thick, crimson haze of the room, daring her to answer, to make the next move in a game neither of them wanted to stop playing.

“Yes” she let out.

He caresses her breasts as he runs his hand up her body through her clothes. She could feel a deeply knotted tension finally dissolve just from the contact.

He gave her lower lip a quick swipe with his thumb before forcefully putting two fingers in her mouth. "Suck," he commanded. She ran her tongue over him, taking in his middle and index fingers. Shutting her eyes, she imagined it was an another aspect of him that she would not object to have in her lips.

He plunged his fingers deeper into the back of her throat, suddenly. She lurched forward, saliva pooling in her mouth as she instantly and uncontrollably gagged at the intrusion. He pulled his fingers away so she could see the mess she'd made.

She let out a squeal and as he gave her a slap her ass. "Be quiet." She felt his hand touch her behind once more, but this time he rubbed and caressed it. He felt himself close his eyes for a moment, taking in her lovely, feminine groans. He enjoyed them. For later that night, he knew, those same moans would become screams.

He unzipped her dress carefully till it stopped at the hilt. He removed the sleeves and allowed the flowing fabric to fall to the ground. Then he undid the clasp on her black lace bra and pulled it off her sleek arms, letting it drop to the ground.

Her skin was smooth and immaculate, her curves soft and glistening in the warm light; she was the ideal blank canvas for what he had imagined. His touch sent shivers down her spine as he brushed along her panties. "Bend over and take them off - slowly." She wobbled her hands and hooked her thumbs along the lace fabric. She leaned in and exposed herself to him, exactly as he desired. With all the sensuality she possessed, she carefully pulled them down. As she was doing that, he began removing his belt and pants.

He took hold of her wrists, pinning them to her back. Then he thrusted from behind inside her. Her initial reaction was to lunge upward, but he prevented that from happening. He pinned her wrists to her back with one hand, then used the other to tug her hair, turning her head so she could face the mirror. He put all of his weight on her figure. He gripped her wrists tighter against her back as she moaned louder. She was unable to move or scream. She could just take it.

He was very aggressive. With strength and raw force, every thrust and stroke forced its way inside of her. She sensed waves of pleasure rising deeper and deeper within her as her walls were more tightly closed. Feeling her limbs start to shake, he continued to press her down with enough force to leave bruises.

That only made him apply more pressure to her fragile frame. He reached through her dark hair and tugged at her scalp. He continued at his unrelenting pace without pausing.

He sensed her body starting to weaken. Her respiration was shallow to nonexistent, and her legs were trembling. She banged her hands on the counter in front of the sink as he removed her wrists from her back. Then he slowed down, achingly pulling in and out of her.

"Beg me to fuck you harder." she was incoherent, recovering from her sustained lack of air. "Please... more..."

"Not good enough," he demanded

"Please fuck me harder- please."

At last, he approached her from a new angle and pressed his cock deep into her. With a loud gasp, she held onto the corners of the counter until her knuckles turned white. The thrust was so deep that it burned with a hint of sweet agony.

He repeatedly struck the same area till her face were covered in tears. "Scream louder, angel."

He didn't need to remind her twice as she completely let herself come undone. Her sweet cries of pleasuring and pleasure were mixed with hard thrusts.

"Come for me. Let go."

She lost all feeling and nerves in her body. Once more, he had bound her wrists to her back without flinching. They stayed there, deep and cruel to her broken body. She sobbed until she lost consciousness. She completely fell apart giving way to an overpowering wave of pleasure.

Syncing with her, he matched her movements and again pressed into her tight walls. Once they had shared an intense climax, his deep groans blended with her gentle cries as they both became conscious.

The silence in the bathroom, thick and pulsing with tension, was broken by a sudden, sharp knock on the door. It echoed through the small space, cutting through the haze of red light, the vibration of it jarring. For a second, they both froze, eyes meeting in the mirror, the moment suspended between them.

Another knock, louder this time, impatient. “Yo, hurry up in there!” a voice called from the other side, muffled but clear enough to bring the real world crashing back in.

He straightened up slightly, still close but no longer pressing into her, his fingers loosening their hold on her waist. The spell wasn’t completely broken, but the urgency from outside the door was creeping into the room. She blinked, her eyes shifting away from his reflection, the heat still lingering between them, but now laced with the reality.

[voguesriot]

SUNBURN ✹ luke castellan

( summary ) a social media au about chb’s fav couple (& their fav shitstirrer, aka percy jackson)

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite cabin-coded!reader & small bits of baby percabeth

( notes ) first post ahhh!!! this was so fun to make

♫ Ant Pile by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by wisegirll , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername my bf is hot but dominic fike if u wanna hmu i can ditch him it’s no biggie 😁🫶

lukecastellan EXCUSE ME

lukecastellan you already completed your rite of passage why do you need to break my heart 😔💔

yourusername want me to kiss that bruised ego better?

lukecastellan sigh… i guess…

seaweedbrain BOOO TOMATO TOMATO BOOOOO

seaweedbrain get his ass off my screen 🤣🤣

lukecastellan sparring arena. you and me. now.

groverunderwood bros rlly beefing with a 13 yr old

seaweedbrain the typa guy to tell me to kms bcs i voted him out in roblox total drama island

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

yourusername no more like content from here on out 🙅‍♀️

lukecastellan wtf???

yourusername sorry babe i don’t argue with girls who have big brown eyes, whatever she wants she’s gonna get

silenabeauregard YOU LOOK SO CUTESY

yourusername I LOVE U 🥹❤️‍🩹

chrisrodriguez lukecastellan bro ik nobody else here fw you, but i’ll always fw you 💗

lukecastellan you’re a real one bro 👊

aphroditecamper1 u guys are so cute ☹️

♫ Babydoll by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by cbeckendorf , connorstroll , and others

lukecastellan yeah your girl might have a general grasp on battle strategies or whatever but can she bring an oddly unsettling vibe and a cute smile to the function? DIDNT THINK SO ‼️‼️‼️

seaweedbrain put a shirt on man nobody wants to be seeing all that trust 🙏

lukecastellan i wonder if your dad would’ve stayed if you weren’t such a hater

seaweedbrain i wonder if your dad wouldn’t have become the ten dollar founding father if you mom swallowed

yourusername woah…

seaweedbrain when he goes low i go LOWER

wisegirll too far percy

seaweedbrain sorry ma’am

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

lukecastellan it’s my account???

clarisselarue i stand by what i said.

chrisrodriguez yk i can bring an oddly unsettling vibe too and my ma said my smiles pretty cute so…

yourusername yeah you bring such a crazy vibe!!

chrisrodriguez now that’s just rude

yourusername tried to be a homewrecker but you got wrecked instead 🤷‍♀️

wisegirll yourusername your lashes look so good!!!!

yourusername MY BABY THANK U I LOVE U UR MY FAV PERSON EVER

clarisselarue WTF???

silenabeauregard WTF?????

seaweedbrain WTF????

lukecastellan i’m used to this by now 😔💔🥀

♫ Woman Screaming #2 by Anton Hughes

♡ liked by wisegirll , racheledare , and others

seaweedbrain does he just not own a shirt… COVER YOUR BOOBS SIR PLEASE THERE ARE CHILDREN

lukecastellan why are you taking pics of us having a nap… fan behaviour icl

seaweedbrain i needed proof to file a police report against you for theft

lukecastellan how did you know??

seaweedbrain i was talking ab stealing my innocence but what were you thinking…

yourusername wait perce can you send me the second pic it’s so cute

yourusername send the first one too actually please

seaweedbrain pick yourself up you’re stronger than this what happened to women who stand on business 😔

yourusername i was standing!!! but then my feet hurt and he picked me up :)

seaweedbrain sigh

chrisrodriguez bros looking fine oh my gods

lukecastellan don’t matter if i’ve got a world of haters, i got you by my side

yourusername i’m just gonna leave…

clarisselarue yourusername just saying i’d never pull that shit

lukecastellan ok joke over ha ha funny

wisegirll percy this is a bit stalkerish 😭

seaweedbrain i’m sorry you’re right

this post has been deleted.

[tarotenchantress]

Astro observation pt I.

By- tarotenchantress🧚🏻‍♀️

DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK.

My work is on the basis of my personal observation.

🐻‍❄️ aquarius venus may feel very judged by their partners or may be embarrased of telling their partners about their interests or views sometimes and have fear of rejection. This is mostly what ive observed amongst the underdeveloped ones but i feel like this theme sort of follows them throughout their life but as they learn to accept themselves, it doesnt bother them.

🐻‍❄️ okay sooo, saturn tends to reward after hardwork but it also tends to create a lack mindset and also leads to lack literally in some cases and i hate it. Like i ik saturn has its own rewards but lorddddddddd?????? Like whatever house saturn occupies, you feel restricted and lack mindset also thrives and you really have to work hard to not let it affect you??????

🐻‍❄️ okayyyyy sun conj moon in synastry does make you feel like the other person is literally mirroring you. Like in my case, i felt like the other person was mirroring my negative traits more like passive aggressive and moody behaviour. He had cancer sun aqua moon and i had aqua sun and cancer moon sooo🙏

🐻‍❄️ personally, i have always felt like i had a very strained relation with those who had their personal planets in the same sign as my saturn sign.

Ill explain🤚

This girl had her sun in gemini and i had my saturn in gemini.. we became friends but i felt like she would always try and put me down or feel insecure of me amd she one day as a "joke" told me that you work too hard and its weird????? It had me so fucking confusedddddd and she also bitched about me with other friends so igg🤡🤡 ik there must have been some other placements tooooo ill analyse the chart and bring it around next timeeeee omgggggg💀💀💀💀🤚🤚🤚

Also i always felt like i had to make more efforts to be her friend and it was ew.

Were not friends anymore omg becquse she kept acting shady towards me.

🐻‍❄️ ykwwwwwwww, those observations that always state that people who have their personal planets in the same sign as your 12th house secretly resent you.. YEAHHHHHH BITCHHHHHHHHH ITS TRUEEEE OMGGGGG EWWWWW.

ILL EXPLAINNNNNN

I have leo in my 12th house rightttt and theres this girl who had her sun in leo. Initially she wanted to be my friend but i felt icky towards her cause something didnt feel right and this kept happening for 1 year. 1year. I had no proof whatsoever to justify this feeling but guess whaaatttttttt. I recently found out that she would call me names behind my back and felt threatened by my presence and the fact that authorities gave me more responsibility. Likeeee it was so out of the blue and she then proceeded to project her resentment towards me and also attacked my reputation repeatedly but never on my faceeee💀💀🤚💀💀

Thats all for todayy you guysssssssss ill be back with more observations and tarot readings 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🧿💗💗

[feyascorner]

2 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. While seeing him leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you. You should hate him, truly.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. and he finally makes an appearance;,; ik the first two chapters are a bit slow but i think i can start picking up the pace now woohoo!! Reader/Tav’s feelings are supposed to be confusing on purpose but I may have overdone it a tad,,

He hadn’t had time to gather any of his belongings when he left. And while your other companions graciously rid of everything they could into a single box packed away in the corner of the basement, even they could not bring themselves to throw the handheld mirror away–whether because of the intricate designs framing its reflection that surely held value or because of your apprehension for throwing it out, you’re not sure. You haven’t used it yourself, too afraid of even touching its handle out of fear it may crumble away.

One of the orphan children that Cora’s harboring places a cup in front of you. You raise a brow at her, silently asking how Cora’s doing, and she only shakes her head solemnly before scurrying away.

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“They’ve already said numerous times where they were,” Lae’zel spits in the Flaming Fist’s direction. “Are all Fists this incompetent, or are you just a special case?”

You run a hand down your face while Gale attempts to calm Lae’zel. Shadowheart’s had her eyes trained on the cups perched around the table for quite some time now, occasionally glancing up to listen to the Fist’s interrogation. Unfortunately, the cups lack their usual alcohol, but you don’t complain about the water with how dry your throat is. You pat her shoulder, and she finally meets your eyes, nodding before resuming her focus on whatever the Fist is saying. You’re not sure yourself at this point.

“As Flaming Fists, we must put the guilty in their rightful place, regardless of whether they’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate or not,” he straightens his back, then narrows his brows at you. “And right now, all witnesses point here. You were seen leaving the tavern with a man reported as missing this morning. Care to explain that?”

You can hear Gale’s chair scrape against the floor. “You can’t be serious. They saved the entire city, for Mystra’s sake! If they wanted bloody murder, they would've been positively drenched in blood by now.”

However, all you feel is the searing stares of your other companions, who remain blissfully unaware of the encounters of your previous night. But you can tell they’re not accusing you, unlike the Fist—they never would—but rather demanding an explanation. You sigh deeply. “I didn’t go home with him. We spoke for almost two minutes before I left.”

“And what proof do you have of that?”

“Considering I woke up in the Blushing Mermaid, I’m sure you can do a little questioning there to find some witnesses,” you stand, the chairs of your leg scratching against the tiled floors. “Are we done here? I need to go speak with Cora, because her husband just died."

“Sit,” he hisses, his fingers reaching for his weapon. “I won’t repeat myself.”

The air becomes tense in mere seconds. It'd been uncomfortable moments ago, but not as much as this—not enough to make Lae’zel reach for her sword as she’s doing now. Your eyes narrow warningly into slits at the Fist, but his subordinates only step forward to stand on either side of him as if daring you to take another step. From the corner of your peripheral, you can see Shadowheart’s palm spark with light. The others occupying the Highberry household, even from outside on the patio, are talking in hushed whispers, all gazes trained on your very breath. And after a suffocating silence, you hear a chuckle from the door.

“Now, Yevir, we shouldn’t be treating our city’s most esteemed citizens with such hostility.”

Grand Duke Ravengard–Wyll’s father–steps into the home, shaking his head. The Fists, who were willing to go head to head with you mere seconds ago, are now turned and saluting the Duke, which makes Lae’zel scoff at your side. “You lot are dismissed under my name. Though I do have a word to exchange with the bard.”

Former bard, you want to correct him.

Your companions exchange an apprehensive glance at one another before you step forward. “And what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the Duke?”

“You jest. We are all allies here,” he smiles. “Come, we must speak privately.”

You grin wickedly at Yevir as Ravengard steps past you toward the office in one of the other rooms. Yevir only shoots knives with his eyes, and you return the sentiments by sticking out your tongue mockingly, which earns a snort from Shadowheart. Then you quickly follow after Ravengard, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you had any news from my son?” he asks, facing the window with two arms locked behind him.

“Karlach’s been sending a few letters. They’re limited, as you might expect, but they do come,” you say. “She says Wyll is doing alright. They both are.”

He lets out a breath that can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: relief. “Good. Now, as for what went down between you and Yevir in the other room, I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been too passionate for his own good. Righteousness is admirable, but not when it blinds your judgment.”

“A lot of things can blind judgment. I don’t blame him.”

He turns to you, and despite the questioning gaze in his eyes, he ignores it. “I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s been occurring in the city—you recently received a first-hand experience.”

“So has half the people on the block, apparently.”

“I’m not talking about Cora’s husband.”

He reaches behind his back, pulling out a slim file and holding it to you. “The number of victims is increasing every day now.”

Flipping through the pages in the file, each one is etched with the murder scene of each victim. There’s one with a man haphazardly buried half in the ground, another with a woman collapsed next to the alleyway in Wyrm’s crossing, another of a man bleeding out in the fields of Rivington. You flip the pages again and again until you arrive at one you would’ve preferred to forget.

“Colin Hedgins,” Ravengard says. “Though most of the Fist, including Yuvir, is unaware, his body was found this morning.”

His silvery hair is stained with what you can only assume is blood. His face, which is stretched in horror, makes you wonder if maybe slitting his throat yourself would have given him a more peaceful leave to the afterlife. Not that he really deserved it. You swallow hard, shutting the file away. “So you think I killed him too?”

“No. In fact, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Then why show me this? This is classified information, no?”

“Each one of these victims has one similarity aside from their brutal deaths,” he frowns. “The puncture wounds on their neck, and the fact that their bodies seem to be drained of blood.”

Your breath hitches. While you’d had your suspicions, surely not all of them could have been of vampires? With Orin and the Bhaal worshippers now defeated or retreated into the shadows, the city had gotten eons safer—this just felt like a slap to your face. One group of murderers after another, it seemed. Instead of replying, you stare at Ravengard with pursed lips, urging him to get to his point.

“Wyll has told me of your relations with the vampires,” he says, and it makes your teeth clench. “He was gone by the time I’d joined your camp, but Wyll tells me you had a vampire for a companion for most of your journey. Could he be involved in-”

“No.” The answer is fast. Almost instant. And while a part of you feels disgusted for defending him, even now, another part refuses to let you live while the city thinks of him as nothing but a bloodsucking monster. Even if everyone thought of him as one now. “He wouldn’t have.”

The worst part is that he fully could have, even if you don't want to believe it. Your mind flashes back to the way his hands had felt around your throat, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Ravengard’s expression softens, and you see it again. Pity. Gods, you’d do anything to never see that kind of face again. “I’m also aware that you two had an—-arrangement. One that involved more than just mere friendship. But you must know if we cannot catch the vampire spawns that are running rampant in our city, dozens if not hundreds of more people will die.”

You want to tell him that he should not search for sympathy in you. Because you were once a person willing to get rid of 7000 spawns for the sake of one lover, who only ended up trying to kill you. “He won’t talk to me anyway. I’m sure you also know he didn’t leave on good terms, seeing as you seem to know everything about my love life. I can’t help you.”

The words come out snappier than expected, but Ravengard doesn’t react like he expected this.

“I see,” he says. “Then perhaps you’ll at least be able to keep an eye out. And please, report to me.”

You don’t budge.

He takes it as a sign to leave and moves toward the door. “If you do change your mind, let me know.”

You want to tell him your future is not a matter of what you want. It’s what he wants, and he’s already chosen your fate.

“And is anyone else aware that an entire horde of vampire spawn is living under the city?” Shadowheart says in exasperation. “No wonder they think Astarion’s the one who did it. They think there aren’t any more vampires here anyway! With that many vampires, imagine what destruction they could bring if they miss a few meals!”

“Surely we can convince our sharp-toothed friends to lay low in the Underdark with the others for a while? We convinced half of them. I don’t see why we can’t convince the other,” Gale suggests.

“A warrior who seeks blood shall have blood,” Lae’zel hisses. “I see no reason for them to leave. If I’d been a spawn, I would stay behind a city full of cattle than return to a place of eternal darkness.”

Your head hurts. From continuously sleeping anywhere but the comforts of your bed or from what’s going on, you don’t know, and you don’t care. You just want a nice long bath to wash the dirt on your face and a hot meal to go along with it. Your companions continue arguing, and it’s times like these when you wish Wyll and Karlach were still traveling beside you—they were usually the diffusers of the group.

To an extent, you had been too. Not anymore, though. That was the least of your worries.

“Why must we fix Astarion’s mess in the first place?” Lae’zel adjusts the sword she’d been cleaning on her lap. “We are not dogs to do his bidding. And from what I recall, we have no longer relations with him.”

This finally urges you to speak, almost instinctively. “We have to help. That’s final.”

It's not often that you reinforce your power as the appointed "leader" of the group, preferring to incorporate their opinions rather than choosing all on your own. They all turn to you with a mixture of suspicion and mostly cringe from Lae’zel. Your face flares in response. “I’m just saying we can’t just let a bunch of innocent people die!”

“Of course,” Gale coughs.

You can feel yourself losing your composure, your palms feeling clammy. Still, you straighten your back. “Astarion has nothing to do with me either. I’m doing this for the city.”

“Right.”

You opt to just clear your throat. “I’ll talk to Petras. We’ll figure out a way for all of us to be happy.”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes, but Shadowheart only raises a brow. “And how exactly are you going to find Petras? It’s not like he has a mailbox or an address.”

“I’ll figure it out. Always do,” you smile, and her face softens. “In the meanwhile, I’ll have to rely on you guys to pick up my work for rebuilding the city so I can focus on tracking him down. I don’t think it’ll take too long—maybe a week or so.”

Gale’s face knits together in concern. “And you’re quite sure you won’t need any of us to accompany you?”

“They’re fully capable of taking care of themselves, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “Very well, then. We’ll await good news.”

Looking back on it, perhaps you did need the help.

Days upon days of searching, yet nothing. You’re sure you covered almost half the sewers at this point, and you’re not sure if you’re just insanely unlucky or the vampires just left while you’d been searching elsewhere.

But the number of deaths says otherwise. 

So you’d turned to a new approach. If you couldn’t find them, you’d let them find you.

The days stretch longer, with the city being in its summer season. And while you’re grateful, since it means vampires will have less time to hunt, you always despise the way this cloak is sticking to your skin and the hairs that seem glued to your cheeks with the hood stifling any hope of breathing freely. Still determined, you force your legs forward into the darkest alleyways you can find.

Though you’ve had a few fruitless days, pacing aimlessly throughout the city during the dead of night into early morning, a part of yourself keens at the moonlight draping over you tonight.

It had been on a night like this, one where the clouds make way for the moonglow to illuminate what lurks in the city during the night. Though at the time, instead of the comfortable bed in the house you and your companions managed to buy after scraping enough gold together, you were sleeping on a bedroll that did little to shield you from the rocks, doing nothing to even the ground below.

Back then, your companions were nothing but that—companions on a journey you hoped to end as quickly as possible to return to the taverns and bars of Baldur’s gate, where you would spend your nights singing the familiar tunes that your patrons enjoyed most. So after the camp celebration with the Tieflings, when Astarion led you to the forest clearing where you first felt skin other than your own, you realized this adventure of yours was more than just that. It was a new stepping stone in your life.

He’d held you close to him, offering you whispers of affection while his hands ran through your hair. He’d kissed you, his hands caressing either side of your cheek. He’d let you marvel at the scars on his back, his hands resting on your waist.

The same hands that wrapped around your throat months later. You can still feel them sometimes.

Despite your speech to Gale before Cora’s husband showed up dead, you weren’t sure how you would react if you ever saw your former lover again. On nights that weren’t plagued with nightmares, you stayed up, wondering if you’d cry. If you’d reach out for him, embracing him in a hug you never wanted to let go from. If you’d let him brush his knuckles on your cheeks, if you’d let him press a kiss to your forehead, if you’d let him love you again.

You weren’t sure. And a part of you—the part shoved deep inside the corners of your heart—wonders if never seeing him again was a blessing. That regardless of the ache in your heart now, never seeing him would save you from something worse.

So deeply lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the murky figure swinging a pipe at your head.

Nearly scathing the surface of a concussion, you dodge, but he’s too fast. Before you’ve even begun reaching for your knife, the figure swings you toward the wall, and you swear you can hear it crack as your back collides with it. Your vision only manages to straighten itself once the figure has you shoved onto the ground, either of their knees on the sides of your hip. 

Instinctively, your hand flies up to stab at their arm, but you’re no match. They twist your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade, and pins either of your arms to the ground. You can’t see anything but the glint of their fangs against the light.

You’d fought vampires before, and you had never seen one so fast. So aggressive. So primal. Astarion had entertained you with friendly spars, but you’d also fought Cazador to the death. Even he hadn’t been this fast.

“I just want to talk to Petras! I’m not going to hurt you, I–” Your pleas go deaf on their ears.

When you squint, you can finally see the blood staining their fangs, and you realize that they’ve already fed.

They’re fed, and they’re still hungry.

A fed vampire, is a strong one, you remember. And if you add their hunger on top of that...

Even as you try to yank yourself away, they only squeeze their grip harder, enough to cut off blood circulation. The color drains from your face, your expression almost fearful. No, it does scare you. It scares you that this is only a spawn, but they can still attack someone so ferociously. It scares you that Astarion could have done the exact same thing to you.

The spawn yanks your head to the side with a claw on your hair, allowing them access to your throat. You thrash and kick, but to no avail, forced to watch as they’re about to sink their teeth into you. You hate your mind because even at death’s door, all you can think about is him.

Is this what he would’ve done to you had your companions not been there to save you?

Is this what he wanted to do the day he first approached you, asking for your blood?

Anger burns in your chest, and with the last bit of your strength, you lift your head and bite them first. Your teeth sink into their throat, feeling the break of skin just before they rip you away, wailing in pain as you’re carelessly tossed to the ground. As they grasp at the wound on their neck, you take the opportunity to lunge for your knife.

You feel genuine rage for the first time in what feels like forever. No self-pity, no dejection, no sorrow for losing the man you’d given everything to, but rage for the state you were reduced to just because of him. And that while his leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you.

You thrust the blade into their chest, and they stop. It’s no stake, but it’ll do for now. And as their throat gurgles with blood, all you can hear is the desperate panting of your own breath when their body falls to the ground, face first. 

You pray they’re dead.

Then, your vision in one eye blurs with red. When you lift your hand to your forehead, you feel the warm blood trailing down, probably from when you collided with the wall. The little strength left in your legs vanishes as you reel forward, your knees crashing onto the mud beside the spawn.

Though you thankfully manage to collapse on your back rather than your poor counterpart who’s probably choking on the dirt and grim of the city grounds even in death, you can feel your head going light, even as your hands tighten around the knife laying on your chest. You greet the moon again, this time with a breathy laugh.

Seluné must be smiling back at you, surely.

You’re not sure who’s standing above you when you open your eyes again, being only seconds away from entirely blacking out. But you think it must be an angel, with his snow-white curls and how he revels under the veil of the moon. You want to reach out to him, but your shaky arm says otherwise.

He’s beautiful, you think, even if you can’t make out his face.

You hope the angel doesn’t pity you.

Apparently, heaven is at Elfsong Tavern. You’d imagined being greeted with the smell of roses and a fresh stream rather than the overwhelming stench of booze, but you suppose it’s fitting considering how you’d died in a puddle of what you assume to be a concoction of cat piss and your own blood.

No, that can’t be right.

Looking around frantically, you lurch forward, the sweat and mud sticking your hair to your skin. Multiple pairs of eyes bore into you. You’re slumped in the tavern's kitchen, several Fist soldiers peering at you curiously. And finally, you manage to make out Shadowheart, whose hands are hovering over you with a gentle glow.

“Lay back down, I’m almost done,” she frowns.

You ignore her request. “The spawn! I’m not sure if they’re dead–”

“Never mind that,” she snaps. “They found you blacked out on the ground next to a dead body and a broken wall. What in bloody hell happened last night? Do you know how much it scared us when the damn Fists were banging at our door at 4:30 in the morning?”

Your head spins, and you clutch at your head. “Got ambushed. I tried to talk to them, but apparently, they just wanted a midnight snack.”

“Heavens above,” she breathes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“No, I was so close, Shadowheart,” you shake your head frantically, smearing at the mud still plastered on your face. “I’ll be more prepared next time. If I manage to just capture one of the spawn alive, I could ask them where Petras is-”

There’s a loud yell from the hatch leading to the basement. Your head whips in its direction, then to Shadowheart, staring at her inquisitively.

She sighs, finally lowering her hands to her side. “Look, I need you to listen to me very closely. As your friend, I can’t have you losing your composure in front of the Duke downstairs. They’re in the hideout, but they’re also with–”

You hear Gale’s voice holler. “You’re the only one who knows them well enough, Astarion!”

Suddenly, your blood runs cold. While Shadowheart tries to keep you still, nothing can stop you as you yank the hatch open, sprinting downstairs. You run through the secret entrance to the hideout, your mind racing rapidly with words you can’t even decipher because they’re going by so fast. You want to hide away and barge into the room simultaneously, and the pounding of your head does nothing to help.

You're different now, you assure yourself. A part of you hates him for what he did, and you're willing to act on this hatred. You won't be passing out on the street, drunk on the pit of isolation he left behind, praying he'd appear from thin air and assure you things are fine. You're better now, and you did it all without his help.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

The room is cold–empty, except for three figures alongside two more guards standing at the door. Ravengard, standing at one end of the circular table, has his arms crossed, brows knitted together comprehensively. Gale, who had been pacing back and forth around the room, freezes instantly when he sees you. So does everyone else.

“Ah, and here comes the star of the show.” You haven’t heard his voice in so long. It almost feels foreign.

Standing between the other men on either side of the table, Astarion’s eyes bore into you, lips curled in a grin barely showing off his fanged teeth. When you lock eyes, yours grows wider as you take him in.

He looks almost the same. The same curly white hair, the same blood-red eyes, and the same smile that once brought you joy yet now only fueled the endless longing of your nightmares. While you expect yourself to feel anger, relief, or shock, all you feel is the rapid beating of your heart, your mind void of everything besides how uncomfortable the dried mud feels on your face. Your breath hitches as he lifts a finger to the side of his head. Only then do you also feel the warm liquid sliding down your cheek.

“You’re bleeding, darling.”

With the inevitable urge to barf up nothing from your empty stomach, you're back to being the same person as you were four months ago.

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova

[whoiseduardito]

Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.

Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.

I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.

HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.

so maybe you have a type.

older guys who have the humor of a rock.

...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.

maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.

you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!

for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.

so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?

"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"

the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.

it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.

your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.

"uhh-"

"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's

"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.

"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."

damn. "well?"

"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."

"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"

the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.

"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.

"why?" you whispered

he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"

oh, your mood had soured

"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have

"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."

"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."

you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you

"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."

his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."

you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.

he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.

the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.

he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'

"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."

"i am aware, mister magneto."

"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"

"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.

"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."

"but-"

"are you aware?"

"yes, but-"

"then why are you pampering them?"

ouch

"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"

"what?"

"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."

you're screwed

"your mutation, am i right?"

"sir-"

"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."

"...what?"

"you and me, are going to train them."

"uhm.... who?"

he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."

great! teaching with magneto.

"...you sure sir?"

"i am sure."

breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.

many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.

"teach'?"

"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"

"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."

"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.

"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree

"why?" they shrugged

"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction

"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"

"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed

"oh, stop lying." you snorted

"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"

"shut up!" you laughed

"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away

"wha?-"

"miss l/n?"

oh shit.

"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.

"mister lehnsherr!-"

"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"

[mintaikk]

Why Blitzø Likes Stolas

I've made jokes about Blitzø liking Stolas bcuz his type is tall, rich, powerful demons with musical talent, and that's probably kinda true, but I wanna talk about the real reasons Blitzø likes Stolas. Tldr at the end.

I think one of the major reasons Blitzø likes Stolas is how kind, sincere, and affectionate he is. Stolas is always making sure he is okay and is very passionate about litterally everything he does (dramatic little bitch, lol). And while he's ignorant ("my impish little plaything"???), he does mean well. Taking Octavia to Looloo Land to make her feel better, Going full demon mode to save IMP, his attentiveness to Blitzø during his mental breakdown in Seeing Stars, him absolutely adoring Octavia, him helping Ozzie when he gained no real benefit, etc, etc.

Also, expanding more on the affectionate part, Blitzø is shown to not get much affection or love in his life at all. His family situation was a giant mess (his dad literally sold him for 5 bucks and a condom Jesus Christ-), and Stolas is a very loving and affectionate person. Obviously, this is shown with Blitzø, but also with Octavia ('my precious little starfire', always staying patient with Via, even if he can be a bit dismissive, going full demon mode when Blitzø said he lost Via), and even his plants (he raised the flesh-eating plant since he was a kid, he pets the plant, on his insta he called a puprle rose "a handsome little rose"). And yeah, he's going to be affectione with Via, that's his daughter, but in Hell, (or maybe just from Blitzø's perspective, it'a hard to tell honestly) that's shown to be a rarity. So obviously, he's going to admire that about him.

And also, compare that to Blitzø's life. His dad saw him as less than, something happened that made his sister hate him, his mom seemed to be a good parent, but she's dead, his best friend and former crush hated his guts for 15 years, his daughter does care about him but she also mostly just shows anger and annoyance with him, and even Moxxie, who'd I'd argue is his best friend, gets annoyed with him constantly (I would too tbh but this isn't about that). Stolas just being his loving and affectionate self and being so happy to see him and always being so sweet to Blitzø is like a breath of fresh air to him.

Another thing is that Stolas shows clear interest in the things he likes. Take horses as example, bcuz we all know Blitzø is obsessed with them. Most of the time, his friends are pretty passive about it, but Stolas actually indulges him. Some of this is from their instas, but Stolas got him a horse Hoodie, he draws horses with him, and Stolas even got inspired to draw because of Blitzø.

(Also, plz note that in another post he commented that it smells like Stolas, and I want everyone to appreciate how happy he looks in this photo while smelling it again)

Blitzø probably admires Stolas's theatrics as well because despite growing up in a Circus where you were supposed to be dramatic and showy, he was still always taught to ignore or hide his true emotions (Cash ignoring that he didn't want to go to the Goetia Palace because "MONEY"). And while Stolas was raised the same way, he still wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve and is always showing them, whether it be positive or negative

And we all know thst Blitzø has major self hatred issues, but Stolas was genuinely interested in Blitzø as a person. Laughing at his jokes, asking how his day went, and with all of this, you can't help but wonder if Blitzø was figuring out that he did too. I think that's why he was so heartbroken about Ozzie's. Because to him, Stolas hiding his face was just proof that Stolas didn't care. That he was just a little plaything. But, Blitzø liked that Stolas liked him for who he was, and that he didn't have to pretend to be someone different.

Yes, ik Blitzø wasn't here for some of them, and he thinks that Stolas is just faking all of this. BUT, Blitzø can notice things subconsciously, and the stuff that Blitzø wasn't there for was to talk about Stolas's character as well. That's why I wanted to talk about this, to talk about what Blitzø sees in Stolas and his character.

Feel free to add anything if you want! I'd love to hear your guy's opinions, takes, and thoughts on the ship. I'm probably gonna a make a post on why Stolas likes Blitzø at some point, lol

Tldr; Blitzø likes Stolas because he's kind, sincere, loving, affectionate, passionate, caring, dramatic, and likes Blitzø for who he is.

[squigglewigglewoo]

Can I request for where Yandere dazai is down bad for reader/fem. That when reader finally allows him to have her, he rips multiple orgasms and keeps her panties for later use..

(✧) warnings: half of these warning depend on his you see the fic, perv behavior, slight noncon, possible drugging, intoxication, alcohol, mentions of stalking, mentions of violence, yandere behavior, manhandling, overstimulation, possible manipulation? Dazai not listening when you say no more, dacryphilia, slight blood play? sadistic dazai bc have you seen that man? he was literally in prison and has 138 counts of aggravated murder, no way he's not a sadistic fuck. mentions of masterbation, mentions of head (male receiving). fem bodied reader, pet names, degradation, praise, sugar coated degradation, Dazais a liar, mentions of chuuya, dazai literally covers his darling in marks, bruises, bites, hickeys, cuts, claw marks, hand prints. readers mentioned to wear a dress, I wrote this with my cunt and it's not proof read. lowercase writing, english is my first language but I suck at it(beware, shitty gramer), bare with me. ik ur reading this bestie, u a little freak but ily<3 NSFW below the cut, MDNI, ageless blogs will be blocked!

(✦) summary: oh, when you finally agree, although with a little bit of help from being under the influence, who is Dazai to say no? 519 words~

(✧) (a/n): I'm sorry I've been silent for so long! got a little too silly and almost got sent to a mental hospital, I'm back though!! exams are coming up so if there's radio silence again, I apologize!! this'll be short, it's 3:46 and my anemia is killing me.

(✦) pairing(s): yandere!Dazai x fem bodied!darling!reader

(✧) listening to~ Poison by Bell Biv DeVoe

the empty sake bottle forgotten on the ground, Dazais hand eagerly undressing you and near tearing your sundress off as he presses you onto the couch, your head thrown back against the armrest, head spinning from both Dazais lips on your neck and the affects of the alcohol. you usually don't get drunk this easily, nor does your head spin like this. what was going on?

"it's alright, pretty girl, I got you, I'll make you feel good." Dazai shushes you whimper and squirm, one hand firm on your hip, the other slides up your back, unclasping your bra and kneading at your breasts. his hands rest at your hips once more, pulling your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket, a little keepsake for later. he kisses you, his grasp tight on you as he bends and folds you, his belt falling to the floor before he rams into you, making you cry out from the sudden wave of both pain and pleasure.

your legs wrap around his waist, his lips swallowing your pained moans as he fucks you at a brutal pain, murmuring something about "god, you're taking me so well.. should've done this ages ago if you felt this good the whole time.." that your fuzzy, intoxicated brain can't understand. done what? what's he talking about? Dazais nails dig into the fat of your thighs, your pussy squeezing around him as he fucks your cervix, making your tummy twist and turn, your body flushing. cumming with a loud cry, you claw at his clothed back, the man having been to impatient undress himself, whining out for him to stop, that it hurts, and he only laughs, fucking you harder, and you feel another orgasm build up.

"c'mon, didn't you want this, why're you asking me to stop now? don't you wanna feel good?" he taunts, his nails drawing blood, his hold so tight it bruises your thighs. his eyes gleam at the sight of your tears and the small pearls of blood, kissing the tears away as they roll down your cheeks. he kisses you, pulling away and licking at your swollen, red lips, and he can't help out Imagine what they'd look like around his cock. he'd kill anyone else who even thought of you like this, he was sure of it, you where his, his belladonna and his alone.

what will chuuya think when he sees you with Dazai, covered in hickeys and bite marks that the brunette most definitely isn't going to let you hide, why would you, anyways? there's no need to hide if he's the only man your seeing, right? Dazai cums inside you as your second orgasm rushed over you just minutes after the first, Dazai slows, pulling out and watching his cum flow out of your abused hole before flipping you over, sliding right back into your cunt and grabbing the fat of your ass, squeezing as he leans over your figure, whispering in a hushed, near scolding tone. "oh, you didn't think we were done, did you? we still have the whole night left, sweetheart. get comfortable, your not getting a break any time soon."

masterlist!

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[smahell]

i miss otaku fm with all my heart and soul and i've been patiently waiting for satoshi kada (leviathan's va) to get back into the studio, and interview everyone all over again. i miss the live drama recordings, the stupidly funny plots, the realistic slip-ups and quirks from each of the cast members. i miss a toast in hell's kitchen and genuinely learning and listening about the talents behind the game, and people's amiable messages and questions towards them in Tell Me!

honestly i'm on my knees begging for a third season where maybe he interviews the vas for thirteen, mephisto and raphael since i haven't seen/heard much from them too in terms of personal messages to fans.

satoshi kada, with his radio, acting and tv experience is such a sweet and soothing personality who brings such warmth to every single project he works on, including obey me. i just wish solmare really really recognized how impactful these podcasts were, no matter long or short, and the abilities of this main cast because goddamit..in such a time where nightbringer is being scrutinized and obey me itself is falling in popularity, absolutely none of the voice actors have forgotten or even brushed aside obey me.

"oh it's because they're working for the game, they'd get fired if they criticized it"

//NB: ik this video is sort of old but i have plenty more proof that the vas still play the game, I thought this was just the best example.//

fuck, most (if not ALL) of the vas play the game??? they get the exact same experience as you and i!! and every boys in the house clip i see them happy to be there together, praising and celebrating the game and just having fun man. it's honestly so touching.

i miss the anime episodes: the ideas shared between the vas and the writers, and every episode seven with the va's analysing their performances and characters makes me laugh till my stomach hurts. you *should* consider how entertaining the anime is; it's obviously rather low budget but you can really tell ( even though this wasn't the obey me universe we know and love) it still kept people on their feet and entertained me like some twisted ao3 crackfic istg. you can tell that the anime was made with fans in mind, and that's where the writers for it really flourished. to this day I still see people talking and sharing screenshots from it..

basically.. let's try not focus on the fact that "obey me is getting worse", let's all look to a future and try and be positive about things, yeah? because behind this silly little demon dating sim are talented writers, artists, coders, ambassadors and fans that have kept the game alive for 5+ years.

i wish obm does flourish more in the future, and the devs focus on creating a game(s) and content that inspire, enlighten and make everyone smile.

please, as a ty, take my silly photos of my favs. I must spread the word..

[iiseult]

hey ik you have a lot of requests rn but could i get a King Baldwin NSFW alphabet at some point? thxx

Nsfw Alphabet: Baldwin iv x reader (drabble (?))

Note: I feel like writing smut about him is gonna get me sent to hell but fuck it we ball! Also I know everyone is about to be real mad at me for not focusing on high noon sunlight but I'm annoying so I need to write short drabbles and stuff like this first to help me flesh out his character

CWs → smut, leprosy, general cringe, AFAB reader, historical inaccuracies

A = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

• He would immediately fetch something to clean the two of you up. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and ready to turn in for the night, because you're not going anywhere now.

• He needs you to stay with him and talk, so he can be sure you are a real person really love him as much as he loves you. Finding someone like you, who's willing to love him both emotionally and physically, was hard enough. There's no way he'll ever let you go now.

• He likes falling asleep to the sound of you reading to him. Since he usually doesn't allow for much cuddling for fear of infecting you, it's enough to be lulled to sleep by your pretty voice.

• If he does break down and let you cuddle, he prefers to be the little spoon as the two of you fall asleep. He craves the feeling of your face pressed into the crook of his neck, your warm breath tickling his ear.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

• He doesn't have very high self esteem, and there aren't many parts of his body he'd say he "likes," per se, but the most tolerable to him is his chest. It's the largest part of his body unaffected by rash or sores.

• Since he is somewhat athletic, what with all the horseback riding and sword fighting, he is well-toned. His chest is sturdy and broad, perfect for resting your head on (or bite if you’re freaky like that 😛)

• His favorite part of your body is either your waist or your hips. He doesn't often get possessive (mostly because he doesn't feel worthy of possessing you), but holding you by your hips is the most intimate thing he can imagine. Feeling your curves with his own two hands and sliding his fingers over your supple skin until they come to rest around your waist is his subtle, gentle way of telling you who you belong to. And his hands are large enough that his fingertips almost touch when he holds you around the middle.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

• He's afraid of his cum touching you. He worries it will somehow infect you or render you infertile, since many people still believed leprosy to be an STD. Therefore, he always pulls out and does his best to clean you up, should you come into contact with it. To him, you are so pure that he simply can't risk soiling you. He doesn't mind pulling out even though it can be so tempting to release inside of you, because no earthly pleasure is worth compromising your health.

• On the other hand, he doesn't mind your cum at all. He found it fascinating the first few hundred times; proof that you were genuinely feeling pleasure by his own hand.

• He would admire the glossy shine dripping from his fingers and then taste it slowly, no matter how flustered it made you. He doesn't find it unsanitary at all, like some men do. Plus, you always taste so good.

D = dirty secret

• As much as he would like to deny it, Baldwin is just like any other man, and he experiences sexual urges from time to time. Since he's so young and has been repressing himself for so long, it doesn't take much to turn him on.

• All you have to do is look at him the right way. Or any way, really. Your eyes alone are enough.

• The smell of your perfume does it, too. It's almost like a pavlovian response. If you spray some on his pillow or his clothes while you’re away, he’ll go insane, plagued by incessant thoughts of you that can only be held at bay by finishing himself off.

• Also, he wishes he could get you pregnant so fucking bad even though he knows it can’t happen. But if he had one magic wish, he would ask to be able to raise a child with you for as long as he can.

E = experience (how much experience/skill they have)

• Literally zero. He’s never had any sexual experiences with anyone else, and what he’s done with you is already far more than he ever expected. Everything he knows, you learned together. On the bright side, that means you can teach him to do everything exactly the way you like it.

• After a bit of time together, he’ll develop the necessary skills and become a very generous, devoted partner. Granted, you’ll have to show him what to do at first, and how to make you feel good, but he’s a smart man, and he’ll catch on quickly. After a simple demonstration and a few questions, he’ll start acting of his own accord.

• What he wants above all else is to please you; his own pleasure is a secondary concern. This may stem partially from his physical insecurities, and the fact that he couldn’t imagine anyone else touching him for so long. But it’s also because he loves you.

F = favorite position

• Cowgirl. He prefers to be on the bottom because it’s not as strenuous, but rest assured, he still contributes plenty. His absolute favorite is when you sit on his lap so he can put his face in your chest and grab your ass while you ride him. Usually it becomes more him thrusting up into you as you get tired of bouncing.

• This position also allows him to look up into your beautiful eyes as he penetrates you, which is often the final nail in the coffin for him. As soon as you gaze down at him with your messy hair framing your face so nicely, he feels himself twitch and has to pull out quickly, releasing hot ropes of cum onto your ass.

G = goofy (are they more serious or silly in the moment)

• Serious. He’s very romantic, and every single time, he reminds you how much he loves you. His feelings for you are not something he takes lightly. Additionally, he believes sex is a somewhat sacred act you should only ever share with your wife or husband, so it’s special to him every single time.

H = hair (how well groomed they are)

• He has pubic hair, but it’s soft, blond, and not very noticeable. Of course he’s always very clean and freshly washed, and often he will plan to bathe and apply fresh bandages to his body before spending the night with you.

I = intimacy (what are they like romantically in the moment)

• It’s unsurprising that he’s extremely sweet and loving during sex, since he’s like that normally, but it becomes even more pronounced. He just wants to be close to you.

• His favorite feeling is when he completely bottoms out and can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He loves burying his cock as deep inside you as possible and then holding that position, as strenuous as it may be, letting you feel every tiny twitch and pulse.

J = jack off

• After so many years of pent up sexual energy, it’s hard to close the floodgates once you open them. On nights when you sleep in separate bedchambers or are not together for some reason, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll be fisting his cock for hours to the thought of you. Sometimes he’ll even practice using a pillow.

• Every single time he’ll feel guilty and embarrassed, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible, but it’s never enough. As soon as he felt you for the first time, felt himself sinking into you as your tight pussy stretched and squeezed him like nothing else ever had, it was the only thing he wanted for the rest of his life. The initial shock of pushing his swollen cock between your walls always draws a gasp from his lips, and it can’t be replicated, no matter how hard he tries.

K = kink

• Praise kink. Definitely. Especially when it’s about his appearance. He’d never heard a woman speak about being sexually attracted to him before you, and had always assumed they found him abhorrent. Actually, he’d grown accustomed to it and stopped being bothered by it at a certain point. So, every time you tell him what a pretty boy he is, it catches his off guard and makes his stomach erupt into butterflies.

• Complimenting his broad shoulders or tracing his abs with your delicate fingertips makes him blush so bad you can practically see steam coming from his ears. His eyes cloud over and he’s honestly one “good boy” away from actually drooling. ‘Cause he only really wants to make you feel good, and hearing the proof is the best reward.

• Hearing your moans also counts as part of this because it makes him feel strong and confident.

L = location (favorite place to do it)

• Bed, duh! Where else is fit for his queen?

M = motivation (what turns them on)

• Kisses. Even if they’re innocent. Even if you kiss him on the cheek because you’re in public and can’t do anything more. God forbid you kiss him anywhere else. Immediately, he gets hard.

• Kiss his neck and he’ll melt into jello in your hands.

• Kiss his collarbones and he’ll start getting a little desperate, grabbing you anywhere he can and rutting his hips into you.

• Kiss his hipbones and he’ll beg you to stop teasing and just touch him where he needs you, ‘cause it hurts too bad.

• Kiss his inner thighs and he might even whine. He’s used to getting whatever he wants, and teasing makes him so deliciously frustrated.

N = no (something they wouldn't do)

• He’s pretty vanilla, so most kinky things would probably be a no for him, but degradation is especially offensive, especially when it’s him degrading you. He hates the idea of speaking ill about you, his precious wife, the absolute love of his life, the woman he was head over heels for the second he met you. It wouldn’t make sense to whisper anything other than sweet nothings to you.

• He also wouldn’t enjoy being degraded. Even if he logically knows it’s all an act, it would get to him. He doubts himself and his sexual skills a lot since he doesn’t have the same physical abilities as other men, and hearing anything that might confirm his doubts, serious or not, turns him off. It makes him wilt like a sad flower. ☹️ Don’t you love him?

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

• He prefers giving! He thinks you taste like candy and loves hearing your desperate moans as he laps at your clit. He doesn’t mind at all when you start squirming and basically fucking his face. Anything for his princes, or, more accurately, his queen.

• He loves it when you finally cum and drench his entire face and chin. He’ll make you watch as he licks his lips.

P = pace (fast or slow? gentle or rough?)

• Slow and gentle, but deep and effective. He takes his sweet time with you, closing his eyes and allowing his body to do what comes natural.

• His touch is so soft and feather-light when he caresses your chest and thighs. He always treats you like glass.

• Every stroke is an intentional, fluid motion, never choppy or rushed.

• He kisses you softly the entire time, pressing his pillowy lips all over your bare chest and neck. And to your own lips, of course.

• Sometimes he holds your hand.

Q = quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

• He doesn’t know what that is, nor would he ever participate in one. Sex is meant to be fully enjoyed in private, in his opinion.

• Every time you sleep together, he pulls out all the stops, setting the entire evening aside to prepare. He makes sure the bed is clean and decorated with plenty of plush pillows and blankets, lights extra candles, draws the curtains, sends away the servants, and messes with his hair in front of the mirror until it looks satisfactory.

R = risk (do they experiment?)

• To an extent. He has definite boundaries that he will not cross, but if something sounds like it aligns with them, he’ll be eager to give it a try. It wasn’t so long ago he was being taught how to fuck, which was somewhat of an experiment itself.

S = stamina

• He doesn’t get overstimulated very easily and can go for pretty much as many rounds as you want. He barely even needs to stop between them, his refractory period is super short. Basically, as long as you’re in front of him, he’s hard. It’s literally so cute how much he loves you and your body.

T = toys

• It’s literally the dark ages baby we ZONT have that

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

• Sometimes when he’s eating you out he likes to hold your hips flush to the mattress with his hands, not letting you buck against his face and effectively edging you. He thinks it’s cute to watch you get frustrated and whine his name. If you do, he’ll raise and eyebrow and ask what you want, pretending like he was born yesterday and doesn’t know good and well that you want his warm tongue back on your throbbing pussy.

• The teasing can’t last too long, though, because he’s a big softie and can’t stand being anything other than completely gentle with you for long periods of time. <3

V = volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make)

• Not too loud volume-wise. Lots of soft, quiet grunts in that smooth voice of his. If something you do catches him by surprise, he lets out a little yelp, which is more high-pitched and breathy. When he cums, it draws a long, rumbling moan from deep within his chest, and leaves him breathing heavily. While he fucks you, he lets out little puffs of air.

• If you tease him enough, he’ll get desperate and whine a little, but it’s pretty rare.

W = wild card (random hc)

• He’d be an ass man for sure. Not that he doesn’t enjoy your tits, too. He just has a weak spot for a nice ass. Yours just fills up his hands so perfectly that he can’t help but cup it in his palms and massage gently. If you’re laying on your stomach, he plays with it sometimes, fascinated by the way it jiggles when he nudges it.

X = x-ray (what's going on under their clothes)

• It’s big. Like, 8 inches and just girthy enough that your fingers can touch when you wrap your hand around it. He doesn’t know what to do with all that, honestly. He knows it’s kind of big and it actually embarasses him.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive)

• Oh baby it’s bad. He wants you. You’re the only one he wants. Every time he sees you he gets little hearts in his eyes and has to bite his lip to stop the impure thoughts that are plaguing his mind from taking over.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

• Not too fast, usually you have to read to him or rub his back for awhile before he sleeps. Even though his body is physically very relaxed after releasing all that tension, his mind is still going a mile a minute. He has a lot to worry about as king, and putting those thoughts to bed is sometimes easier said than done. Thankfully he has you to help him out.

[boydepartment]

quiet nights- hwang hyunjin x reader

a/n: i am sorry this was completely self indulgent :( ik i have requests rn but like… i finished all my work and im just laying down next to my mom watching hyunjins vlogs on the tv so this is FOR ME :(( your girl has been a little tired lately and mentally stressed i usually don’t even write or take requests for skz anymore but……………. omg what’s that behind you???!!!?

warnings- none, fluff, they just talk in the hotel room. not proof read.

wc- 400-500

MASTERLIST

curling up beside your cool hotel pillows was the standard while traveling. you didn’t expect your boyfriend to get back to the hotel room until later tonight. hyunjin was a busy man and his errands for this trip were later than your errands. your errands finished when his started, so needless to say you really missed him.

you fumbled around trying to get comfortable in the dim hotel room, you had all the lights off and you could see the city lights from the open curtains.

since the room was so high up you felt comfortable leaving them open, there was no balcony or any openings so you could enjoy truly enjoy the view of the bustling city.

you sat up and took a seat by the window, taking the throw blanket you and hyunjin bought from your last trip with you.

it was amazing to you that there was so many people living so many different lives, so many lights to signify different things. before you knew it you had grabbed the sketchbook and charcoal out of your bag. hyunjin had bought you and him art supplies while you were out earlier.

you started to sketch out the city in front of you, so focused on the scene. you wanted to challenge yourself to not try and erase or clean up your lines unless it was with the medium.

your brows furrowed and you started to get in your head, not even realizing your boyfriend was back in the hotel room. hyunjin thought you were asleep so he set down the bags of surprises quietly. when he walked further into the hotel room he saw you sitting by the window with the sketchpad in front of you. smiling to himself he watched you for a bit, changing from his outdoor clothes to indoor.

once he was done he went up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, the thin piece of charcoal snapped and you looked up at him.

“you scared me.” you felt yourself laugh a little before smiling up at him. hyunjin looked down at you, his smile never leaving his face.

“i’m sorry, my intended…” he mumbled and leaned down to kiss you.

you smiled into the kiss and set the art stuff down on the small table.

“let’s get your hands cleaned up and then we can head to bed alright? it’s late…” hyunjin caressed your face and kissed your forehead. you nodded and you both walked to the bathroom.

he helped you wash the charcoal off your hands as he told you about his day, “then this lady complimented my jewelry and i found out she was some like high political power that i didn’t even know!” hyunjin whispered through giggles.

“when did you find out?” you asked, giggling aswell, your boyfriend always found himself in weird positions like this.

hyunjin started laughing again, “literally four people came up to me and were like, ‘do you know who that is?’ and obviously i was like ‘nooooo what?’”

that sounded like something he would do and you could so clearly imagine it, “how does this keep happening to you?”

he dried off your hands and kissed your palms, “i don’t know my love! people just talk to me i guess. i don’t even know what they’re saying half the time.”

you started to giggle again and you guys walked over to the bed and got in. it was finally comfortable to you with your boyfriend next to you.

“so tell me about your day?” he laid on his side facing you, tracing your hands with his fingertips, “i had to leave when you got back so i didn’t get to ask…”

“it was busy, i had to talk to a lot of people too, not political powers though.” you teased him, he threw his head back and laughed.

“but it was good, i walked around a bit when you left, picked up a couple things for us too. there’s leftovers in the small fridge.” you spoke softly. hyunjin nodded and scooted closer to you, you could tell he was getting tired. sleep finally knocking on his door.

“i found… i found a nice cafe…” he yawned and pulled you closer to him, “healthy food… nice breakfast…” hyunjin started to shut his eyes.

you relaxed in his arms and started to place with the ends of his hair, “want to go there for breakfast tomorrow?”

he nodded, “then a museum…”

“then a museum…” you repeated and smiled to yourself, sleep starting to come for you too, “we better get rest then…”

hyunjin nodded into your neck, “mhm….” humming.

“i love you..” you whispered, your hand moving back and forth on his back.

“i love you most..”