#it has bright colours and is about a toy

[flickerofembers]

I didn’t realise until I went to the cinema that some parents seem to think Barbie is a film for children.

It isn’t.

It’s not that it’s inappropriate, but it’s just not made for the attention span or minds of children. For example, would you expect a seven year old to sit through, let’s say, Pride and Prejudice, pay attention the whole time and understand everything that’s going on? No? Well, the stereotypical P&P target audience is the same as Barbie’s. Don’t go into the film expecting your young child to have an amazing time when the film was not made for them.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[hexjulia]

waugh just came back and my bird was sitting before the window waiting for me (sad/cute, she has toys and i wish she would also accept a bird friend) ...the window. Which was wide open. 😬

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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[princessbrunette]

HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡

♪ the little dippers — forever ♪

WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!

pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡

synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.

cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡

��Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”

Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.

Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.

Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.

The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.

It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.

Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.

Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.

Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.

At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.

You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.

The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.

You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.

He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.

He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.

Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.

So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.

“Jesus.”

This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.

With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.

“Does anyone know I’m in here?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”

He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.

“…Hi?”

“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?

“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.

You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.

He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.

“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”

You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.

“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.

“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.

He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.

You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.

He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.

“Do you have a name, mister?”

He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”

You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.

“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”

“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”

You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.

“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.

“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.

As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.

He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.

He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.

“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.

“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”

He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.

Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.

“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.

“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.

“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”

He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.

The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.

John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.

“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.

“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.

You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.

“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.

“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.

You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.

“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.

Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.

“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.

“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.

“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.

You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”

“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.

When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”

The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.

“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.

You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.

You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”

“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.

His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.

You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.

He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”

You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.

John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.

The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.

Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.

“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”

You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.

“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.

He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.

“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.

“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.

“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.

When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.

He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.

“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.

“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.

As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.

He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.

He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.

“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.

“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”

He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.

“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, good.”

His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.

“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.

“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.

“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.

“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.

He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.

This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.

“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.

His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.

He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.

“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”

“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.

Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”

You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.

“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.

“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.

As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.

“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”

You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.

“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”

“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”

He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.

“Uh-huh.”

When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.

He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.

There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.

“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.

“Feel okay, gorgeous?”

You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.

As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.

You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?

Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.

“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.

There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.

“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.

“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.

“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”

You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.

He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.

“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.

“Mhm!”

“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.

“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.

He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.

Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.

Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.

“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.

His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.

“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.

“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.

[minhosimthings]

The Fallen One || 18+

Synopsis: For the final day of the pact, you find yourself intoxicated by the man you've yearned for, forever.

Pairings: detective!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, fingering, cock riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not for you), reader has like three orgasms?, Jay's just really obsessed, Fluffy in the end, swearing, mention of food and alcohol, final fuck you to Heeseung yay

A/N: I haven't been able to carry out with my og plot in this fic because I, like an idiot, forgot I included bondage and i just wrote everything and now I neither have the heart nor the energy to write anything else, so to all my babies who wanted bondage, there's a fic in my wips for y'all. Anywho I had fun working on this series! Thank you for all the support that got me through writing everything and I hope next time my brain remembers to write WHAT WAS INTENDED IN THE FIRST PLACE-

Series Masterlist

Jay's calloused fingers nudged a mauve hued record back into its place, near and tidy on an oak shelf slightly shorter than him. His eyes travelled to another section of the shelf, where his hands picked up an olive green record, silently sitting at the back, overshadowed by the bright blues that surrounded it.

His mouth stretched into a thin quiet smile as he gently took the vinyl out, admiring its sleek look in the faint light of his bedroom, before he set it to it's position on his record player. Picking up his glass of dark red wine, Jay toyed with the sharp needle of the nostalgia emitting record player, before setting it onto the spinning vinyl.

The sound of stiff bones cracking was heard as he plopped down on his armchair near the warm fireplace, wine in hand, with hypnotising music playing in the background. Sipping his wine, he stared at the fire place, watching as every flame danced to the music, some did the tango, while some did the ballet.

Don't think about her, he thought to himself, anything but her.

Jay sighed heavily to himself as he twirled the last remnants of the wine in his glass, he had no idea how fast he had drunk it. He could hear rain pattering away mercilessly outside whilst the hours ticked away as he waited for tomorrow to come and whisk him away.

The second sigh of the evening dropped seethingly from his mouth as his eyes fluttered over to the picture frames on the wall. He smiled as he ran his eyes over the memories of old, forever remembered in hues and colours, lest they ever leave his mind.

A picture of him and his parents stood proud next to a ridiculous picture of him, Sunghoon and Jake standing next to a lake. He laughed as he recalled how they had fell into the murky water that day, pushing each other in, until everything ended in dirty clothes and raucous laughter. Another picture stood rather drab next to the bright coloured photos of Jay with his boss, recieving an award. The picture was dusty, as if it has been avoided by Jay when he was cleaning it.

Jay's eyes paused at the dust spiders on the picture and he walked near it, peering to see the picture that was held inside the carved frame.

Him, a woman and Heeseung, with smiles imprinted on your faces, against a backdrop of what looked like a school building. Jay gently took the picture of of the wall, it slid easily off the wallpaper, and set it down on the table. If anyone had asked him later on for how long he had stared at it with confused thoughts, he'd have responded with a confused look.

If only she had chosen me, he thought, if only....

The third exhausted sigh came as Jay realised he should probably sleeping, glancing at the clock to notice that it was 3 am in the morning already. He'd only get a few hours of sleep, but something was better was nothing, and for him, three hours of sleep was more than enough. And if it was on his beloved armchair next to a cozy fire? He might as well have announced Christmas dinner.

Jay plopped onto his armchair once more, now folding up his legs to snuggle into the seat, all warm next to the crackling fire, with the sound of rain making him drift off to sleep.

He made sure, by whatever ill will, to glance at the dusty picture he set on the table once more, peer at the intoxicating smile of the woman, and the man next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively. Jay thought his face looked rather sour in the picture, the memories of it were even sourer but dawn was no time to think of them.

And so he went off to sleep at last, fighting off troubled thoughts and an uneasy heart.

If only she had chosen me.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Where did you say Y/N was staying again?" Sunghoon looked up from his pile of paperwork to answer the questioning voice.

"Baker's Street." He answered in his usual condescending voice, "Why do you ask?"

Jay shrugged in response to his friend's question, quickly pretending to be interested in his own pile of paperwork, though Sunghoon was quick to notice the tiny smile dancing on his lips. "Jongsoeng don't tell me you're going to do anything stupid."

"You're telling that to me?" Jay laughed, which came out more like a scoff, "I'll be fine."

"Don't buy her cake like I did." Jake commented from the other side, a pen stuck behind his ear, "Unless you want Mr Fuck Up over there to intervene." He lowered his voice with the last words, glaring towards Heeseung, who was working on the other side of the office.

Jay hadn't exactly been careful all day around Heeseung, treating him normally, though he did make sure to amplify his voice when speaking your name. Such as now, when he had asked Sunghoon where you were staying. He had no intention to make Heeseung jealous or anything. No, he had a firm desire to make Heeseung jealous and angry.

"Jay can I talk to you for a second?"

Speak of the devil.

Jay looked up from his paperwork (quick to change his expression from annoyed to normal) to see Heeseung staring at him with a weird look.

"I need to talk to you." Heeseung repeated, causing Jay to internally cringe. "What about?" Jay asked, to which Heeseung looked around before grabbing Jay's arms and dragging him (against his will) to the empty break room.

"I need to talk about—" Heeseung paused, taking a breath, "—about Y/N."

"What about her?" Jay asked, voice remaining calm, though his knuckles were certainly gripping the edge of the table he leant on, very tightly, "She's doing well, if you wanted to ask."

"Jay come on." Heeseung sighed, "I know about this little pact between you guys and Y/N and–" he fiddled with his fingers, "I know I've had some downs, but I really need to apologise to Y/N. I've ditched Yeo-Hee anyway, and–" he chuckled, "–can we not let bygones be bygones?"

"Bygones be bygones?" Jay let out a cold laugh, the expression on his face was terrifying and though Heeseung wouldn't have admitted it, he was scared, "Since when have you been using that phrase? Since high school I reckon?" Jay laughed again, "Ahh fuck I don't even understand why she even kept up with your cheating ass for so long. Tell me Heeseung," he leaned forward to look Heeseung menacingly in the eye, "Did you ever really love her?"

"Love her?" Heeseung responded, "Of course I love her, she's my wif-"

"Then will you tell her about Ji-ah from the other section or should I?"

"You wouldn't." Heeseung stared Jay down, though he was taller and older than him, he felt as if a hurricane was interrogating him, "Jay you can't. You know she'll never forgive me."

"She shouldn't." Jay laced his words with venom, "She should never forgive a fucking bastard like you."

"Ok fine." Heeseung sighed, "Can you atleast tell her I'm sorry?"

"Tell her yourself, coward." Jay quipped, which perhaps was a mistake, when he looked at Heeseung's angry expression.

"Coward?" Heeseung laughed, "Wouldn't that be more fitting for you, Jongsoeng?" He stepped forward, "If you hadn't been a coward with poor heartbroken 16 year old Y/N, we probably wouldn't be here and I'd be thankful I hadn't ever dated that bitch."

Heeseung couldn't comprehend what has happened in the next few moments. All he could recall if you had asked him now what happened, was a loud thud, his back against a wall, Jay's cat like eyes becoming deadly and Jake and Sunghoon's shocked faces.

"Don't you call her that, you insipid jackass." Jay snarled at the older man, with his hands gripping the collar of Heeseung's shirt tightly, whilst pressing him to the wall, "Don't you ever call her anything less than what you fucking are. A coward, and a cheat." Jay released his grip on Heeseung's shirt with a guffaw, before stepping out of the room, leaving behind an air of tension and fear.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Your eyes scanned the room nervously, as you eased into the maroon hued armchair. The anxiety you held within you at the moment, was easily captured by the way you were fiddling with your fingers and biting your bottom lip until you tasted iron in your mouth.

It's just Jay, you reminded yourself, the man you've had a crush on since forever, it's just him.

"Keep biting that lip of yours and you're going to lose it." Jay chuckled, walking in with mugs of tea in his hand, "Still haven't lost that habit have you doll?"

"Well with you no longer there to remind me–" you graciously accepted the mug, noting carefully how his fingers brushed against yours, "–its become an addiction."

"Well, I'll make sure to write to you everyday not to bite your lip." He joked, making you laugh. God he looked heavenly, you thought, figure clad in his loose white button up, the one he wore to work, combined with a blue trouser which framed his thighs perfectly.

"You-you look good." You said, in a timid fashion, making Jay look up from his mug and smile at you.

"As do you, doll." He grinned. The cocoons in your stomach erupted into a thousand butterflies at the nickname. It was what he used to call you in high school, mainly to tease you, and partly (or rather secretly) to compliment your beauty.

"Heeseung asked me to apologise to you." Jay chuckled coldly, interrupting your train of thoughts, "Bastard came up to me at work and just bombarded me with requests." He looked up at you before continuing, "He wants you to know that he's broken up with the other girl, Yeo-Hee or whoever."

"Oh." You responded, not exactly knowing what a good response would be, "Well—good, I guess." You said, not adding anything until a few minutes of silence passed, "Does the idiot really think he can get me back with a simple apology?"

"He does." Jay set his mug down on the table, easing into his chair, "If it were me, I'd have written a thousand pages of poetry for you."

"You wouldn't have ever done what he did."

"Wouldn't I?" Jay's eyes perked up at you, shadowed with a kind of darkness you've never seen before.

"No you wouldn't." You responded, "I know you wouldn't, you're too...perfect for that."

"Perfect?" Jay laughed mockingly, "Y/N if I were perfect, we wouldn't be in this situation–" he didn't know where his words were coming from, "–and you'd have never married that fucker!"

Jay's sudden amplified voice made you flinch, you had heard that voice on only one occasion before and it was not a pretty thing to hear at all.

"Jay....."

"I'm sorry." Jay sighed, running his hand through his hair, "This is a mistake–I'll drop you off at home if you don't want this anymore-"

"Oh my God, you're an idiot." You said, stopping Jay's rambling and causing him to look up at you with confused eyes, "Do you really think I'll skip this just because you raised your voice?"

"No I meant–" Jay sighed again, getting up from his armchair suddenly and packing around the room, a habit he had from childhood, "–I know things aren't really sunshine and rainbows between us, and you probably don't feel comfy fucking someone who's been with you since high school so–fuck I'm rambling." He mumbled the last part under his breath, taking a deep breath, before continuing, "Y/N, what I want to say is–I'm sorry." He looked at you again, "I'm sorry for not being good enough for you, but please–" he knelt down in front of you, so you could be at eye level, "–forgive me, if you still can."

"Oh my god you idiotic dunce." You laughed at him, causing his expression to change to one of confusion.

Jay didn't have time to register what happened next, the only feeling his mind knew was the touch of your soft, familiar lips on his, the mere atoms that existed between you, now faded away as you ravaged each other, each attempt to get closer, an attempt of love and confusion.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

"Fuck it." He finally said, grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you towards him for yet another kiss.

He kissed you like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled your flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup your face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have you closer. Jay opened his mouth, causing you to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your mouth moved with his as if it was known to you; As if this was a dance you had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of your lips was a song that Jay had mastered just for you. 

"Jay I-" you hesitated for a moment, what if he didn't say it back?, "I love you." His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a tired smile.

"Oh sweetheart," Jay's hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear that."

His mouth hesitantly chased yours until you brushed your fingers through his hair and pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips again. His touch was gentle, almost like he wanted to be careful with you. Yet, you wanted to breathe him in—lustfully addicted to the taste of his lips.

His palms laid flat against the curvature of your back whilst your hands grabbed at his collar, pulling him flush against you—the throbbing between your legs did anything but lessen with the close proximity.

Jay had never before tasted something sweeter; your saccharine lips fit so perfectly against his—he was convinced that they were made for him to kiss and caress. His cock stirred in his pants for he could only wonder how divine your cunt would taste on his tongue. Jay needed it all. he trailed his fingers up your front, pinning the fabric of his shirt over your tits. His fingertips dance across your skin as he detached his lips from yours.

"Wait Y/N–" Jay pulled away, leaving you chasing after him, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes," You breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips, "Fuck yes I want this."

Jay needed no more words from you as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as you kissed him back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Wait a minute love." Jay mumbled into your ear. Slipping his arms beneath you, he lifted you into his arms, his hands squeezing your ass as you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms round his neck for support. Jay led you to the adjacent room, presumably his bedroom, setting you down with care on his bed.

As soon as you were settled on the mattress, Jay's senses ravaged on you. His hands grabbed your face, pulling your lips against his in a passionate kiss. You could taste the bitterness in his mouth, perhaps from an afternoon shot of bourbon, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your senses. Jay's hands moved down your body, tracing the curves of your hips as he pulled you closer. As Jay's hands continued to explore your body, you couldn't help but sigh. "fuck Jay."

"Shh doll." Jay shushed you, "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Your clothes quickly fell to a pile on the floor, and Jay's lips found your neck, leaving a trail of sweet but rough kisses. His touch was urgent and passionate, a release of the pent-up energy that had been building up all day.

Soon, he was pushing your underwear to the side, revealing your slick folds to him. The warm atmosphere of the room kissed your cunt with a breeze, eliciting a shallow gasp from you.

"Wet for me already, doll?" Jay smirked, his eyes travelling up and down your body, as if he was a saint worshiping his patron goddess. His low chuckle vibrated throughout your entire being, sending you into that same state you were in when you drank the aphrodisiac at Sunghoon's house. It was pathetic on your part that Jay had managed to get you like this without so much as sticking his fingers in you.

"Jay stop teasing-“ the words die on your tongue and you gasp for air, fingers pulling at his soft locks as he prods his fingers at your entrance. Your cunt sucked him in with ease—his long fingers fucking deep into your pussy. Your hand swiftly gripped the edge of the bedsheet until he placed his hand over yours—gently intertwining your fingers while you arch your back in pleasure.

Jay leaves one final kiss to your lips before leaning back and forcing your knee down with his left hand. He was locked in a trance, watching the way your pussy would gush every time his fingers would pump inside of you. His fingers rapidly disappeared past your folds as you cried out.

Your hands frailly clawed at his wrist, only to be swatted away while he kept his pace—eyes trained on your precious cunt.

With parted lips, you brought your gaze down to glance his fingers as they were buried knuckle-deep inside of you, you couldn’t even hint for him to stop, not that you wanted him to anyway. How could you? With the way he was beginning to curl his fingers forward, pushing against your slick walls, it was nearly impossible to push him away. The feeling alone forced a chain of whimpers from your mouth, only encouraging him to do more.

He continued to fuck you with his fingers, pushing and pulling them out of you with a growing sense of urgency. Eventually, he was leaning down to connect his lips with your nipple before beginning to suck on the sensitive bud with haste.

"Jay—ahhh." You draw out a raspy moan, feeling his tongue circle around your nipple, "Jay I—"

But before you could even finish your sentence, your larynx was screaming out his name like it was gospel, as you came messily all over his fingers. Jay smirked, as he gazed at your beautiful, fucked out face, his dick positively bursting from how much he wanted to absolutely ruin you.

"Eyes on me, doll." Jay commanded, you moved your pupils to face him. He looked absolutely breathtaking, towering above you. You winced as his fingers dug deep into your waist, he lifted you up with ease and propped you on top of him. Your positions were now switched, and you had no idea what to do.

"Go ahead and take my pants off." He told you. You happily obliged, your fingers were practically scrambling to unzip his pants, as you tore them off of his legs, revealing the cause of his earlier bulge. You hum at the sight of his cock, licking your lips as you swipe a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it, causing Jay to let out an almost inaudible moan.

"Now—" Jay sighed, hard enough from the feeling of your fingers on his length, "Be a good girl and ride my cock."

Your eyes widened at his words. You were delighted, of course, at the mere prospect of having his dick to yourself. Unfortunately for you, you had no idea how to tell him you didn't know how to do what he wanted you to do.

"I can't." You mumbled underneath your breath, causing Jay to chuckle.

"Speak up sweetheart, I can't hear you."

"I don't know to do it!" You said, more agressively than you had intended to say it. But Jay just laughed again, this time it was more of a mocking one than amused.

"Oh sweetheart." He extended a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek, his hand was warmer than your face so you melted into his touch, "Want me to help you?"

You did nothing but simply nod, feeling slightly ashamed and slightly insecure about the fact that your brain was telling you, you've disappointed him.

"What's going on in that brain of yours hmm?" Jay grabbed your hips pulling you down onto his stomach, "Scared, doll?"

"No—no!" You panicked, "It's just that—what if I don't...do it correct?"

"Doll, do you really think I'd be mad at that?" Jay raised a brow at you, which quickly turned into a expression of concern, "Did Heeseung ever do that to you?"

"Sometimes." You mumbled underneath your breath, "He'd get mad at me if I didn't know."

"Fucking bastard." Jay said, his hands gripped your hips tighter, as his eyes wandered all over your body. He couldn't bring himself to even comprehend how Heeseung could have behaved like that with you.

"I-I do know some things." You started, adjusting your body on Jay's stomach, "I know how to—" you paused, "—get on."

You felt your cheeks heat up rapidly as you internally slapped your forehead. Jay chuckled at your embarrassed expression, hands still digging into your hip.

"Alright then." Jay said, freeing his hands from your body, "Go on."

Sighing, Jay lies back down, hips going still. You shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. Jay lets out a whimper at the teasing sensation.

"Fuck doll—don't tease..." Jay sighs in pleasure, as you lift yourself up, hands on either of his shoulders. Both of you let out a collective, satisfied moan as you slowly sink down on his length, feeling it stretch open your cunt slow and steady. Jay groaned again as you gripped him tighter to balance yourself. His hands found their way back to your hips.

"shhh." Jay's big hands continued to roam around your body, one landing on the small of your back and the other massaging and cupping your tits. He used his hand on your back to push you down further.

"breathe, love, i'll help you." when you finally sank all the way down onto his cock, when Jay was finally buried balls-deep in your pretty little pussy, it felt so amazing because you were so so full.

No one had ever been so deep inside you. His cock was kissing your cervix, and it had your pussy clenching down on him so tightly that you thought it might be a little hard to move.

“Fuck.” You lift your hips, and slowly ease yourself down again. Lustful whimpers and moans escaped you as you slowly repeated your motions, feeling almost dizzy at the way his big cock was stretching you out. His dick felt so fucking good; hot and throbbing and aching to burst inside you.

Throwing whatever scrap of inhibition you have left, you raise your lower body before roughly slamming your ass back down. The harsh movement makes you cry out in pleasure. You start to move eagerly, not holding back any of your movements.

Once you got started, you couldn't stop the rhythm — up and down up and down up and down — until your vision began to blur from how fucking good it felt. His cock hits deep inside you, stretching out your tight little hole with every bounce.

Jay's view from below you was incredible. tits bouncing, head flung back, and moans pornographic — it was all enough to drive a man mad. he couldn't keep his hands off of you. whether they were gripping at your thighs to keep you warm on his dick, or gripping and pinching at your nipples, or running them over your back hard enough to leave scratch marks, they were constantly in motion — worshipping your beautiful body.

"You're so—fuck—pretty." Jay cooed at you, ignoring the sharp pain on his shoulders with how you were digging your nails into his skin, "be a good doll for me now."

You were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. He had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. You felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

"Fuck doll—" Jay moaned, he was loving the way you were using him for you own pleasure, "G-Good girl, you're a good girl for me aren't you?"

You couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding in for a long time, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. You felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew Jay's shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. You felt one of Jay's hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

A pathetic whimper escaped your lips as you felt a familiar fire burn in your core, edging ever closer as you drove yourself to the end of the tunnel. It didn't help that Jay perked his hips up, practically slamming his tip into the deepest crevices of your pussy and driving you insane as you finally came down.

Your moans grow louder, echoing on the walls as you feel the impending climax. "I'm cumming! Oh god, don't stop!" Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath and a quivering sensation throughout your body. Your pussy gripped tightly around him, milking his cock with every thrust. Your legs tremble and your body shivers, wracked with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. "Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Gazing at your drunken being, Jay took the opportunity to harshly grab your hips, and bring you down underneath him. Your back hit the mattress roughly, as you felt nothing but his cum still in your walls.

You were awoken out of your cock-drunk stupor by the harmonious taste of Jay's lips, as he kissed you, his hands circling your breasts

His neck muscles strained as he deepened the kiss. You broke the kiss as you looked down at him, your breathing uneven. The low lighting making him look absolutely ravishing. Freshly kissed lips made them redder as his eyes droopy from the lust behind them, looking at you.

"Jay please..." You trailed off, feeling exhausted from the expert riding lesson.

"Please what doll?" Jay chuckles into your neck, his tip teasing your labia. "Jay–need—your cock." You throat out. The room felt like it was spinning at a fast rate as Jay chuckled again. His cologne was like poison to you, wrapping you in tight corridors of pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you're such a dumb doll for me aren't you?” he prompts, moving closer. He spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. You whimper as his tip touches your labia, he wasn't giving you what you wanted anytime soon, and you were getting impatient.

"Jay—" you say his name like a prayer your tongue had memorised, "—Jay, please..."

"Dumb fucking doll." Jay muttered under his breath, gripping your chin with his two fingers. He went in for a filthy, messy kiss, before you were cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad.

Taking his dick between one hand, Jay slapped your ass in the other as he rubbed out the red imprint beginning to spread beneath his fingers. You vulnerably flinched at the feeling, letting a low moan out as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Rubbing his sensitive tip against your pussy, he hissed through his teeth at the feeling before lining himself up with your entrance. Holding your hips in his hands, he gripped his fingers on your skin as he pushed himself inside of you between your folds, equally pulling your hips back on his cock, your warmth instantly wrapping around him as your lips parted at the feeling, letting a moan out into the bed.

Waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. He’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. He shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. The other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.

"Jay–ah-ahh" You moaned loudly, holding onto his biceps and burying your face into the crook of his neck. His hand slid in between your bodies, reaching down to your clit and rubbing rough circles, increasing the immense amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

Jay’s thrusting became faster, harder, like a man starved. His grasp on your chin returned to your hips. As Jay rolled back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brought your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. You look beautiful like this, he thought.

Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin, he had been a fool not to have claimed you as his before. His wife, he thought, his and his only. "Ohh fuck!" You whined, feeling Jay's cock drill into you, hitting that perfect spot in your tight cunt. You were powerless underneath him, his balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust, his hands snaking around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist as he pounded into you. He groaned in pleasure, leaning down and softly nibbling your earlobe,

"god, you're fucking amazing." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he picked up the pace, his cock slamming into you with increasing intensity. He was merciless, taking what he wanted, dominating your body perfectly.

Jay's fingers dig deeper into my skin as he pounds into you, his dick was slamming against your most sensitive spot with every thrust. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls my head back

"you're gonna look so pretty when you're all full of me, doll," he moans out and grabs your hips tightly with his rough hands, holding you in place as he slams into you.

Jay's hand slides from your hip to your clit, his fingers rubbing against it in slow, deliberate circles. You moan, your body trembling beneath him as he continues to thrust into you, his thick cock filling you completely.

His fingers move faster, his touch becoming more insistent as he rubs your clit, his movements matching the rhythm of his hips.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with every touch, every thrust. Jay's breath is hot against your ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin.

You came hard and threw your eyes back, twisting your body and separating yourself from Jay's mouth in a desperate search for air. His chest was heaving, his skin was flushed and sweaty, your sex was still eagerly sucking the other's length that kept burying itself to the bottom in you, and then leaving and entering again as if it were predestined for that.

"Fuck, you're so hot." Jay moaned loudly, as he felt your pussy suffocate his length, "Fuck—you want my cum sweetheart?"

"Jay—oh fuck!" You gasped loudly, "N-Need your cum–please."

Jay groaned, you saw his Adam's apple protrude in his throat and you gasped, feeling him move slightly in your pussy.

"that's it doll, cum for me, fuck—just like that." He drawled out in a lazy whisper.

Jay rested his forehead on your collarbone and let out several low moans before cumming inside you. After recovering from the orgasm, he stood up again between your legs with a sigh, looked at your union dripping with fluids and came out of you, putting the semen that flowed from your entrance back inside with his fingers, making sure that everything stayed trapped inside you.

A painful emptiness was left in you when Jay slowly pulled out, with a train of curses escaping from his mouth, as he lay down next to you. You both lay in silence, with the only sound being the sound of your laboured breathing.

"So—" Jay broke the silence, "—what now?"

"What now?" You asked the same question back, with a slight chuckle as Jay smiled at you, "Do you want to get up or do you want to stay here for some more time?"

"I'd prefer the latter." He answered, scooting himself closer to you, "Unless you want to take a bath?"

You hummed in response, taking the invite to wrap yourself in his arms. Evidently, neither of you were interested in leaving the bedroom.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too doll."

Taglist: @diorsyun @jaeyunluvr @hoondrop @mxxninthesky @alvojake @wondipity @blurryriki @lilyuwon @heeliopheelia @pshazez @heeslomll @seunghancore @shiningnono @deobitifull @luvitria @nyfwyeonjun @hwa-0403 @bubblegyu00 @sunpov @heeheeswifey @chartrucewhore @slut4hee @heesangs-blog @rikiwaify-blog @hirablackcat @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @kirinaa08 @heeshlove @seokseokjinkim @brownsugarbaybee @yzzyhee @anittamaxwynnn @kgneptun @penny44224 @ribbioniki @strxwbloody @immelissaaa @nshmrarki @yawnzzhoon @sousydive @yunhoswrldddd @whateverhoon @cloud-lyy @missychief1404 @ensaz008 @sunsunl0ver @binniesbabe @oneheart-break @skzenhalove

[azzo0]

Happy Mama Day

Summary: Touya and the kids surprise you for Mother's Day.

Contains: soft Touya, fluff, kids n sappy stuff

Pairing: Touya x f!reader

wc: 2.1k

Based on this idea.

Touya buried his face under a blanket when little hands slapped his cheek. A little girl's voice screamed at him excitedly to wake up. He opened his eyes slightly, sighing into the pillow when both his kids started jumping on the bed, singing, "Wake up! Wake up!"

"Daddy, Daddy, Keiko said it's Mama day today!" His son yelled, pulling the blanket off him.

"It's called Mother's Day, not Mama Day, Takeo." His daughter sassed, crossing her arms as if she knew some great secret her younger brother didn't.

"Stop jumping, Takeo. I'm up." Touya sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his snowy hair, disheveled from sleep. Takeo jumped into Touya's lap, making him let out an 'oomph.'

"Daddy, Keiko told me-" the three-year-old began. Sometimes, Toya was surprised by how fluently the child could speak since most three-year-old's he knew yapped in baby language. He talked to Rei about it, and she told him he used to be the same.

"Keiko-Nee." He corrected, his gaze shifting to his eldest. She excitedly crawled to him and sat on her knees excitedly. He ruffled her bright red hair and looked down at Takeo, "What did she tell you?"

"Keiko-Nee told me that her teacher told her it's Mama Day!" The boy exclaimed.

"Is it?" He hummed.

"Can we do something special for Mama when she gets back from work?" Keiko asked. "My teacher told me you can show your thanks to your mothers today! Let's do something special!"

"How do we show our thanks?" Takeo asked, tilting his head.

"We can make her cards and make her favorite food or buy her gifts!"

Takeo gasped and looked up at Touya with wide eyes, the same colour as yours, "Does that mean we can cook a cake?"

"Bake a cake," Touya threw the child over his shoulder and got off the bed, holding a hand out for Keiko. She took his hand and jumped off the bed, "Sure we can, but first you two need to eat breakfast, clean up your rooms, get ready for the day, do your homework and then we'll bake Mama a cake, okay?"

"It's not fair that I have homework and Takeo doesn't!" Keiko lamented, puffing her cheeks out.

"He does have homework. He has a colouring book to fill. Isn't that right, Taki?"

The three year old nodded his head even though he wasn't sure what 'homework' was. Touya took the kids downstairs and made them sit at the dining table. He went into the kitchen and put on the apron. He took out a few eggs and beat them up with milk and sugar. He dipped slices of bread inside the eggs and then fried them, keeping them a little soft because that's the way his babies liked it.

He took the plates out in the dining room, setting them in front of the kids, "Eat up."

"Thank you," the two chimed.

He sat across from Keiko and Takeo. He sighed when Takeo began breaking the bread into bits without putting them in his mouth. Touya quickly finished his breakfast and helped Takeo with his. After breakfast, the kids followed him upstairs so they could clean their bedrooms. Keiko was six, old enough to make her bed and tidy her room, but Takeo still needed help, given he was only three.

He folded Takeo's blanket and kept it in the crib while Takeo picked up the toys littered on the floor and dumped them in the toybox. Once Touya was done with Takeo's room, he went to Keiko's room, watching his daughter huff and puff as she folded her giant blanket all by herself. She turned to him after she was done, flexing her arms, "I did it by myself!"

"You did great, Keiko." He lowered his back with Takeo on his hip and kissed Keiko's hair. He took her hand and led the kids to the bathroom.

He put Takeo down, took Keiko's unicorn toothbrush, put a small amount of toothpaste on it and handed it to her. He then proceeded to put toothpaste on Takeo's smaller shark toothbrush. He gave him the toothbrush and watched him look up at his sister and try to imitate her. Touya smiled to himself and took his toothbrush hanging beside yours. He brushed his teeth along with his kids and then helped them wash their faces, making them giggle when he patted them dry.

"Cake time!" Keiko squealed, stomping downstairs with Takeo chanting 'cake' behind her.

"Homework first, you two." Touya reminded sternly.

"But I don't have school tomorrow. I can do it later!" Keiko whined, "And Taki's homework isn't even real homework! You just make him sit down and colour a bunch'a pages so you can watch soccer on the TV!"

Toya raised his eyebrows amusedly as Keiko tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. He let out a chuckle and turned to the kitchen, "Alright, alright. Just don't make a mess, okay?"

"Yes!!" She exclaimed, taking Takeo's hand and following after her father.

Touya helped Keiko and Takeo into little aprons and rummaged through the cabinets, looking for the cake mix he bought ages ago. It's not that he didn't know how to bake a cake from scratch, but with two kids involved, the kitchen was bound to get chaotic. He found a vanilla cake mix and took out a bowl and a hand beater, setting everything on the counter. He opened the flaps of the cake mix as the kids watched him excitedly. He took out a white coloured packet and cut it open with a pair of scissors.

"Can I put it in the bowl?" Keiko asked.

"Sure ya can. Come closer." He handed her the packet, and she carefully put the mix into the bowl. Keiko snatched the cake mix box and read the instructions, squinting her eyes as she tried to read the sentences.

"It says to... mix water, oil, 'n eggs with a mixer on... meedum...?"

"Medium," Toya corrected, encouraging her to go on.

"...speed or beat by hand for two minutes." She finished with a grin. Touya patted her hair and measured out the water and oil, which Takeo insisted he wanted to pour. Touya picked up Takeo so he could reach for the cups he had measured. He watched Takeo pick up the cup of oil in his chubby hands and empty it into the cake mix, followed by the water.

"You want to crack the egg?" Toya asked Keiko, smiling when she nodded excitedly. He showed her how to crack an egg and then handed her another one. She managed to crack the egg and let its contents fall into a bowl.

"Do we beat with an electric mixer or hand?" Keiko asked.

"Hand beater," Toya replied. He mixed the ingredients and then let Keiko take over for a little bit. Of course, Takeo didn't want to be left out and had to take a turn whipping the batter.

"And then we pop it in the oven," Touya transferred the batter into a cake pan and put it in the oven that had been preheating for some time.

"Daddy, while we wait, let's make Mama a birthday card!" Keiko exclaimed, pulling on his hand.

"I've got some cleaning up to do, Kei. You make one with your brother-"

"No! Don't you gotta wish Mom Happy Mother's Day too?" Keiko put her foot down and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, let's make a mama card," Takeo added.

"Fine," Touya sighed, "Let's go make a mama card."

He sat on the floor in the living room with the kids. Keiko handed him and Takeo A4-size papers and let them use her sketch pens and colour pencils. She told him how to make a card, speaking as if she was giving away the world's darkest secret, "So, basically, you fold it in half like this, and then you write 'Happy Mother's Day' in fancy handwriting. You can make a drawing if you wanna, and then on the inside, you thank Mama for all she's done. Any questions?"

"No, ma'am, thank you." Dabi picked up a blue sketch pen and nudged Takeo, "Say thanks to your sister, Taki."

"Fanks."

Touya had never made cards for anyone before. Sure, he'd received plenty of sweet ones from you, but he never gave you one in return. He folded the paper in half and tried mustering up his fanciest handwriting, which turned out looking like a doctor's note. He picked up a red sketch pen and threw in a couple of hearts and smiley faces.

He moved on to the inside of the card, and that's where he got stuck. The green sketch pen hovered over the paper as he thought of what to put inside. He had so much he wanted to thank you for. Your love, your support and your kindness. The list went on and on. He glanced up from the paper to see Keiko beautifully decorating the card while Takeo went on a scribbling spree. He smiled softly at the kids and looked down at the paper. He knew just what to write.

You knocked on the door and yawned, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. It had been a long day at work, but you couldn't wait to greet your husband and kids and then spend some time together on the couch after dinner. You heard a few excited cries, and the door was thrown open.

"HAPPY MAMA DAY!!" Takeo screamed, hugging your leg.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Keiko exclaimed with a grin, hopping from foot to foot.

"Oh, my babies." You smiled and stepped inside, pulling them both in a hug. You kissed their cheeks and made them giggle. "Thank you so much."

"No, thank you for all you do, Mama! You're so cool!" Keiko beamed.

"So cool!" Takeo agreed.

"Okay, okay, let ya mama breathe." You looked up when you heard Touya's voice. His lips tugged up on the side in a smirk, "Hey. Happy Mama Day."

"Thank you," you laughed, kissing his cheek.

"We baked you a cake, and Papa made your favorite dinner!" Keiko exclaimed, "We also made you cards!"

"Mhm?" You took the card from Keiko and read through it with a stupid grin. You kissed her nose, "Aww, thank you, Kei. You're so sweet."

"Here is my mama card." Takeo waved his drawing in front of your face. You took it from him and gushed over the stick figures of him and you holding hands.

"It's lovely, thank you, Taki." You squished his cheeks together lovingly.

"Papa, where's your card?" Keiko asked.

"I didn't make any. What are you talking about?" Touya shrugged.

"Lies!"

Touya sheepishly revealed the hand in which he held the card. You got up from the floor and took the card, giggling at his messy handwriting adorned with hearts, flowers and smiley faces. It was so unlike him. You flipped it open and read it.

Happy Mama Day, wifey.

There's a lot I wish I could say to you more often, but putting it here feels easier. Thank you for all that you've done for me and our kids. Thank you for being by my side when nobody was and for holding my hand on sleepless nights and shooing away my nightmares. Thanks for dragging me out of my depressive episodes and taking me on ice cream dates. I'll never forget them. The ice cream was delicious, by the way.  

Thank you for birthing our beautiful children. I'm so lucky to have you by my side to raise our kids. You're my definition of a blessing in human form.

With love,

Your handsome husband,

Touya

(P.S. You have a nice butt)

Your hands quivered as you read the note. Your eyes blurred with hot tears. They fell onto the card, and he pulled you into him and kissed your temple. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your nose in his chest, feeling his warmth seep into your skin, "Thank you, Touya."

"My words hit ya that deep? Maybe I should be a poet." He chuckled, combing your hair with his fingers.

"There's nothin' poetic about it." You muffled into his chest. You pulled away and pressed a kiss on his lips. His hand went to rest on your lower back as he leaned into you.

You were aware of the kids watching, so you pulled away and glanced back to see Keiko pretending to be very interested in the door handle while Takeo tugged at his sister's sleeve. You chuckled and held an arm open, "Come here, Keiko, Takeo."

You scooped up Takeo while Touya picked up Keiko. You let your head rest against Touya's shoulder, your heart brimming with joy and contentment, "I love my little family."

[tojisun]

i agree with the prev anon about shiu 😭 i just can't get bimbo reader x shiu out of my mind after that

OH MY GODD that made me froth :< // prev; alt !! f!reader; daddy kink; shiu's big horny always teehee // divider by @/plutism!!

shiu loves you so much; he loves spoiling you lots.

you're a sight for sore eyes, round and sweet, but that's not what only gets him going—you're kind to a fault, looking up at him all starry-eyed like he's not a bad man. like he's not broken and angry, and all mangled from within until it has him toying with people's moralities.

his empire stands firm from the shadows as proof of that.

you curl in his arms, so giggly and bright, almost like you're unknowing of what he does, of what he's capable of, but you've always known better than anyone else. after all, shiu trusts no one more than he trusts you.

you are so, so lovely; stoking his desires, filling him up with this miasmic need that burns from within. he aches every time, so desperate to feel you. to touch you. to have one more taste because you've turned shiu insatiable, his hunger constant, burrowing deep in the yawning of his stomach.

he wants more from you. he will always want more.

.

"daddy?" you call, pattering out of your room with a little pout. shiu's quick to drop the call, not bothering to say any goodbyes to toji, and turns all of his attention to you.

he gulps, feeling himself chub up underneath his slacks. you've got your neon green tube top on, the fabric taut as it clings to your skin. there's a little slip of cut by the front of it, and all that's keeping the fabric twined together are the little straps that converge in an 'X', framing your pretty tits in a way that has his throat constricting, his thirst palpable as it rolls off him in waves.

you don't notice of course, eyes turned to the baby blue slip of a dress you're carrying.

"hi, sweet'art," he croaks out, pulling your attention back to him, almost pleading.

you look up, blinking like you've forgotten he was there or that you were even asking for him, before a smile dances on your lips, tugging that kissable pout away.

"shiu!" you say, giddy, bouncing in your place and it—

jesus, it makes your tits wobble, your tight tube top not really doing anything to hide the fact that you don't got a bra on.

you tryna kill him or somethin', doll?

"c'mere," he grunts, patting at his lap.

you fall on top of him with a squeal, all your tender parts dimpling as you nuzzle close, humming in delight when shiu brushes his lips on your forehead. he adjusts himself on the seat, arm curling around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer.

"so what's got you into a tizzy?" shiu asks, rubbing his hand atop your belly, his cock chubbing up even more at the softness of your pudge.

"oh," you murmur, breathless, your eyes tracking his caresses. "was jus' wonderin' if i should wear this top or the blue dress, s'all."

"yeah?" shiu begins peppering kisses along the shell of your ear, huffing when you squeak, body jolting at the ticklish feeling that his stubble makes. "and y'wanted daddy's thoughts, s'that it?"

"mhmm." you sound distant. distracted.

shiu trembles, just as dizzy with his need. he wonders if he can coax you out of that outing you were planning with your friends. he wonders if he can ask you to stay because there's something else he'd rather do than pretend he can stand toji.

(maybe he'll have you kiss his cock and have you smear that lipgloss all over the leaking slit; or have you sit on his face since it's been a while since he's got a taste, and shiu is parched.

or maybe he'll have you ride him, give him a view of those pretty tits bouncing, your nipples hard and in need of being sucked on. maybe he'll make a mess out of that top, yeah? lick you through it, watch it go damp and see-through, until the green of your top is muddled with the colour of your areolas.

or maybe he'll breed you, huh darlin'? you'd want that, wouldn't you? have him fulfill his promises—make a mom out of you?)

"well, baby," shiu begins, his voice gruff as he pulls himself out of his imaginations. he kisses the slope of your neck, and breathes in the smell of your body wash. "i do love that green top—shows more of y'r girls, doesn't it?"

you giggle, almost a touch shy, before nodding. shiu's heart swells, the aching need in the pit of his stomach peaking, bloating. he can't help himself—his darling love is warm on top of him, beautiful and soft. a lesser man would've crumbled faster; pawing at your body, hand rough as it fondles your tit—

really, shiu deserves a goddamn award for how saintly he's acting; holding back like he's not leaking in his boxers.

but he remembers how excited you've been about this night out and shiu would rather fuck his fist than ever be the cause of your disappointment, so he takes a ragged breath in, leashing his desires back in the pit of his stomach, weaving it beneath his blood, and taps your hip to send you off.

you climb out of his lap with a huff before you twirl, bending forward and planting a sloppy kiss on his lip. they go away sticky, marked by your lipgloss.

"see you later, daddy," you trill, waving, before you run back to the room. shiu can only grunt, unable to trust his weakened voice.

.

driven by his deprivation, shiu fishes a lingerie out of your hamper and pockets it. he'll need it for later—the night is young.

-

john’s version

[j2hoes]

Foreign Exchanges. (Anthony Vaughn x Reader.)

Summary: Moving school in the middle of the year is never easy. Let alone from an entirely different country. Despite Y/N trying to garner the least amount of attention possible, she still manages to catch the eye of a certain brunette.

Word Count: 1.5k

Gif Not Mine . Requests are open!

Warnings: Mature language.

A/N: My first Ant fic and I’m debating making this a series but you’ll have to let me know what you think! Anyway just a short one to start us off but there’ll be more soon. Don’t forget requests are open!

“I’d like you all to offer a warm welcome to our new student Y/N Y/L/N, she’s moved here all the way from the UK! So let’s show her some of that Hartley spirit.” The teacher, who introduced herself as Jojo, announces to the class. All of them staring at me with blank stares. “Go ahead and say a few words.”

She nudges my shoulder gently before I can decline the offer. Encouraging smile on her face. There are no smiles from my classmates however, only bored faces who couldn’t be less interested in my arrival. For which I’m grateful. I’d seen this school on the news prior to my enrolment, I know these students are brutal. I mean, a sex map? Dad wasn’t too happy about sending me here though he didn’t really have a choice, no other schools were admitting students this late into the term.

“Um hi, I’m Y/N. It’s good to be here I guess.”

“Does anybody have any questions for Y/N?” Jojo offers, attempting to find a way for the class to get to me.

Numerous hands raise and I let out a groan internally. It’s bad enough that I’m stood at the front of the classroom like a new shiny toy but to now be subject to whatever ridiculous questions these teens can come up with is a new form of torture. One that I am really not looking forward to.

Jojo points to her first student, allowing them to be the first to ask. “Why don’t you have a proper British accent?” The girl seems genuinely curious, eyes focused on me as she combs her fingers through her orange hair. Stickers adorn her face along with colourful eyeshadow to match her bright outfit. She has a gentle aura surrounding her, which makes me relieved as I realise her question wasn’t meant in malice and more so pure interest. Maybe these kids won’t be so bad?

“Um, I think the accent you’re think of is the Queen’s English. There isn’t many people that talk like that really, maybe a few down south but I grew up in the North East. None of us talk posh.” I tell her, watching as she seems to take notes as I speak.

“Thank you Quinni, Spider what about you?” Jojo asks, pointing to the tall blonde that is hunched over at the back of the class.

His eyes flicker up to me, giving me the once over though he doesn’t seem too impressed by my presence.

“Yeah, what is it with you and all the other poms having bad teeth?” The boy pipes up, I notice the two boys next to him laugh. Though the one in the baggy outfit makes eye contact with me and a flash of guilt appears on his face.

“I don’t have bad teeth actually. Nobody I know does and to be perfectly honest, that stereotype is deeply rooted in classism and while the UK faces a major cost of living and wealth gap crisis, I don’t think it’s funny to joke about things like that. Do you?” I retort, causing h the pink haired girl and her friend to applaud my mini speech. Both offering cheers.

“Okay any more questions that aren’t going to cause arguments?” Jojo asks, a few hands lowering as they don’t want to get in trouble. “Yes, Amerie?”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, yeah I really miss it.” I start, thinking of everything that I had to leave behind. I know this was the best decision for my family, but I do hold a slight resentment towards being here. “Don’t get me wrong, Sydney’s great and all, but I miss my friends, my house, my pets, I even miss the shitty pub from down the street.”

“Thank you Y/N, I feel like we’ve got to know you a little bit more now, so feel free to take a seat and we’ll get started.”

The only open seat is next to the girl that Jojo called Amerie. Smiling as I take my place, I open my notebook and begin to doodle swirls and other patterns across the page. Focusing on that rather than the subject being taught. It’s some form of sex education by the sounds of it. However, it seems very outdated and heteronormative. Nothing worth listening to anyway.

Upon hearing the bell ring, I begin to pack away my things and watch as a few students mutter things towards Amerie. “Map bitch.” “Cunt.” and “Crazy bitch.” Just to name a few. I realise that may be the reason she had nobody sat next to her and figure it may be best to avoid her if I want to stay under everybody’s radar.

Finding my locker, I begin to turn the lock with great difficulty. Back home, the numbers simply connect and the door clicks open, that doesn’t seem to be the case here though. Fiddling with the dial, I hear the bell signal the beginning of the next class and I huff, annoyed that I’m having this much trouble with a stupid locker.

As the hallways clears out, I continue to twist and pull at the lock. Bag dumped on the floor as I try with all my strength to pry the door open. With no such luck, I throw a quick kick to the locker beneath mine, leaving a dent in the door slightly. Slumping with my back again the metal, I find myself face to face with the boy in the baggy outfit.

Not previously noticing how cute he was, dark hair hidden beneath a beanie, a couple of curls escaping. Boyish grin plastered across his face and piercing brown eyes staring directly at me. I won’t even try to deny that Australia has one up on the Uk in terms of boys, they’re just so much cuter over here.

“What did the locker do to you?” He jokes, taking the slip of paper with the locker code out of my hand.

“Bloody thing won’t open.” I mumble, stepping out of the way as he demonstrates how to open it with ease. My cheeks tinged pink as I fear my outburst may have been unnecessary.

“I thought you Brits were supposed to be good at containing your emotions anyway.” He leans against the locker beside mine, watching me as I stuff countless books into the small space. Normally this would make me uncomfortable, yet there’s there’s something about him that makes me feel warm and calm.

“Nah we love our fair share of violence.” I tell him, smiling as I do so, remembering the amount of fights that used to take place on my estate daily. Providing free entertainment for all the neighbours. “We’re polite, but piss us off and we’ll knock you into next week.”

He laughs, folding his arms across his chest as I close the locker door. His eyes gaze over me as I turn to face him properly. Noticing the small cross necklace hanging from his neck, I can’t help but imagine what it would look like against his bare skin.

“You religious?” I ask, nodding towards the chain.

“Nah, I’m Ant.” He brushes off my question and tucks the necklace beneath his shirt. Clearly a touchy subject that perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up. So instead I attempt to lighten the mood.

“Ant?” The word escapes my mouth as a slight giggle, unable to hide the amusement his name brings. “And your mate’s called Spider?”

“Yeah, stupid right?” He chuckles, playing with the straps of his bag. Almost as if he’s nervous. “We’ve been best mates our entire lives. My real name’s Anthony but nobody calls me that. Same with Spider, his name’s Spencer. Kids started to call us Ant and Spider when we were like six, guess it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.”

Picking up my bag, I throw it over my shoulder. Figuring I should probably head to my next class despite being extremely late already.

“Hey, about Spider.” Ant reaches for my arm, clearly sensing that I’m about to leave. “I just wanted to apologise, he can be a bit of a dick but he’s a nice guy deep down.”

My arm tingles where he’s touching it, feeling the slightest of move of his fingers. As though my nerves are on fire. Suddenly hypersensitive to any little movement he makes. I know I shouldn’t be feeling things this intensely, hell, I’ve just met the guy. Yet he sparks an excitement in me that I haven’t felt in a while.

“Honestly it’s sound. You don’t need to apologise.” I assure him, offering a smile, I see his shoulders relax. “I can handle a prick like him any day.”

“Yeah you certainly shot him down quick.”

As he removes his hand from my arm, I’m quick to begin walking away. Cheesy grin on my face as I recall the interaction in my head despite it only happening seconds ago. I feel dizzy with excitement, my feet feel like they’re walking on clouds and I almost miss the shout from behind me as I go to turn the corner.

“Hey, do you wanna get high?”

[emperor-kumquat]

My COMPLETE Ripclaw design for Transformers: Mercy (a Transformers Prime choose your own adventure story for YouTube).

The Prowl png is for size reference and was not made by me, but by ROAR (a past artist of the project). Misfire was created by Mynametia! Predacons with the most stunning, bright colours are venomous. Ripclaw's tail with a retractable needle can cause temporary paralysis to those she stabs. On top of that, Ripclaw is a difficult Predacon to fight because of her many spikes. Other Predacons may just stab themselves trying to fight this cactus of a Predacon! Her long red wings are great for gliding, so flight is easier for her compared to her brethren with metal feathers. It is the same fabric-like substance as Predaking and can stretch and shrink in transformation.

Ripclaw has large yellow nostrils and is the best sniffer of all Predacons in Mercy. This makes her a stellar police officer! Personality-wise, Ripclaw has a strong sense of justice. If Ripclaw feels wronged, she will react strongly. If given positive morals early on, she becomes a fierce defender of the law and protects all. If taught violent ways, she will lash out at the world and only protect other Predacons. She can be cheeky and playful, and is overall a passionate individual. She shares Predaking's values on the importance of preserving Predaconkind whereas Skylynx and Darksteel aren't as concerned about the fate of their species.

This design is based on Ripclaw's Transformers Prime toy and what we saw in Predacons Rising

[cor-lapis]

I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)

Tighnari:

My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!

There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).

Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.

Collei:

COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.

Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.

Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.

Cyno:

Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6

I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.

I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.

Conclusion

I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process

[live-love-be-unique]

Crossing All The Lines

Summary: Callsign: Tink. Brought into the taskforce as a hacker/ intel specialist, you butt heads with your captain.

#47. Reader is a hacker or intel specialist for @glitterypirateduck O,Captain! challenge

Also, inspiration for a chubby reader and the death of a certain Austrian from @391780, Early I hope I did you proud.

Parings: Price x chubby f reader

Warnings: Idiots in love, female reader, smut with some plot, oral (f!receiving), vaginal sex 18+ Minors DNI

“It’s your eye in the sky, so to speak” you said, holding the small drone you had been tinkering with before he had walked into your office. You animatedly showed off the newest toy you had been tinkering with, pointing out the features you had added “it has the capability to record and store six hours of audio and video. I’m working on the signal range to extend…”

Price reached over the desk and turned off the screaming you called music that was blasting through your computer speakers “I’m not taking some flying toy into a war zone” he said with finality. Laswell’s recommendation be damned, he didn’t need some little dolly bird tottering around the base in ridiculous shoes telling him how to run his taskforce.

“Oh ok, so will you be letting Gaz know you’re planning on pitching him out the side of a helicopter again to run surveillance or am I?” you say, casting him a smirk over your shoulder as you place the drone on the shelf behind you. Price groaned and rolled his eyes away from you.

You were the newest addition to the taskforce, at Laswell’s insistence, she claimed you were the best intel operative she had encountered in years. She had pulled a few strings and called in some favours with the higher ups that Price could only fantasize about knowing to get you after you had saved their arses with some quite impressive hacking skills.

To say you weren’t what Price had been expecting was a massive understatement. The day you were introduced to the team, you were all bright colours and sparkles in a sea of soldiers. Hardly military issue, as you arrived on base, you had poured your soft, rounded curves into that dress. A wiggle-dress his mother used to call them, and ridiculously high heels. The sight of you made his mouth water and his hands itched to feel your soft skin and overflowing curves. Soap and Gaz took to you instantly, bestowing you with the callsign Tink because of your love for tinkering with random projects or Tinkerbell according to Soap, Ghost took a little longer but your preference for a proper cup of tea and non-judgmental attitude towards his unwillingness to show his face quietly won him over.

The only one you hadn’t bonded with was Price. You butted heads and frustrated each other. Trading snide comments and jabs. Price did appreciate the fact that you kept a jar of sweets on your desk that you made an effort to keep stocked with his and the lads favorite treats and he had to admit that, Laswell was correct, your hacking skills were second to none.

Price watched as you spent the first three weeks of your time on base bringing in new trinkets for your small office. Candles, figurines and a small cactus that Soap didn’t notice until he sat on one day. You admonished him for weeks until he brought you in another, non-spiky one. “I’m sorry, Tinkerbell, forgive me?” he’d pouted, holding out the small succulent towards you. Your office was an explosion of colour like you, and there was always music playing, you’d even created a playlist with Soap and Gaz.

But…on more than one occasion not that he would admit it, Price found himself in his office late at night surrounded by the cloying scent of artificial strawberries from the candles you preferred to decorate your office with that seemed to follow you around, with his hand furiously fisting his cock. Your bratiness was like catnip to him. Every cheeky little sass you threw his way made him harder than ever.

You yourself, never thought you would be one to enjoy it when a man yelled at you but with Price’s gravely, low voice and the sheer broadness of him…damn...you couldn’t count the nights you spent with the absolutely non military issue neon pink vibrator between your legs imagining it was Price instead, his booming voice echoing in your ears as you came. Your embarrassing crush on the captain had stopped you from dating, all bar a handful of dates with that very tall Austrian colonel from Kortac, you thought he had ghosted you after your dates but came to find out that he had died from ingesting strychnine poison in a Romanian brothel after sleeping with a married woman.

“Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pulled Price back to the present.

“There’s nothing to hear, we’re not taking that thing” he pointed towards the shelf.

“It’s already been cleared. You just have to control everything don’t you?”

“I’m the captain for a reason” he muttered, stubbornly.

You scoffed “god, I bet you couldn’t last one day without controlling everything”

Price leaned forward, open palms resting on the desk in front of him, staring down at you “try me”

“What?”

“You heard me…try me, doll”

You can’t tell who made the first move as your hair was wrapped tightly in Price’s hands as he pulled you against his lips in a heated kiss. He groans deeply as your teeth nip sharply at his bottom lip.

“That dress looks divine on you” he smirks, pulling away from your lips breathing heavily.

“Thank you-”

“How easy is it to take off?”

You smirked, turning your back towards Price, moving your hair over your shoulder and glancing over your shoulder at him.

Price licked his lips as his hands slid slowly from your waist up your back. His hands made quick work of the zipper as he slid the dress down over your shoulders, placing a gentle almost loving kiss between your shoulder blades.

You turned to face him as you dropped your dress to the floor. You felt exposed as Price’s eyes raked over your near naked form.

Price couldn’t take his eyes away from you. The lacy navy coloured lingerie hugged your soft, rounded curves perfectly. Your eyes locked with his as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Tell me you want this” his eyes bore into yours as his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear “tell me you want me”

“Price…”

“John, call me John…please” he whimpered.

“Please, John”

“Fuck” he uttered as he dragged the lace over your hips and down your legs. You shuddered as the cool air met your soaking core.

He pushes your legs apart, pressing little kisses on your inner thighs, before nuzzling his cheek against you, breathing in your scent as he lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

He looks up at you, eyes blown out with desire. Before you had a chance to think of a witty retort, he dives in, tongue sliding through your folds. You fall back against the desk with a soft groan as your hands find his hair, gripping tight as he laps at you like a man starved. “Fuck,” he moans against you. “You taste so fucking good.” He spreads you apart, adding a finger into the mix, he thrusts it in and out of your eager hole as his tongue laps at you. You moan softly, hand still tangled in his hair as you arched your back, body chasing his tongue against your heated skin.

“Stop wriggling” he gritted out, his voice strained as his calloused hands gripped the plush of your thighs.

“Make me”

Price chuckled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you, you squealed and wrapped your legs around his hips as he sat you on your desk “just once, will you do as you're told?” His hands on either side of your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, locking your ankles behind his back and pulling him closer.

Price grunts, gripping your thighs against his waist as he leans forward and leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own.

“You have no idea how much I want you”

“Oh I think I get the idea” your smirk as his lips continued their path towards your chest. You ground against him and chuckled as you felt the rumble of a moan in his chest.

“I want to ruin you”

“Please…do it”

That was all the encouragement he needed as he hurried to undo his belt and shove his pants to his ankles.

“Your hand feels so much better than my own” he rasped as you wrapped your hands around him, lining his cock up with your pussy. You moaned against each other's lips as he sinks into you. The stretch to accommodate him is nothing short of delicious. Your grind against him as he bottoms out.

Your eyes meet as he pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you, filling you so completely that it steals the air from your lungs.

Your hands grip anywhere you can as Price rolls his hips up into you, the way you squeeze him spurs him on as you writhe and keen underneath him. Your nails leave crescent shapes in the skin of his back as he looms over you, his arms caging you against his broad chest.

Price couldn’t stop himself, he kissed at the skin of your bare shoulder, bared his teeth and bit, hard, you yelped. Oh shit, he thought, have I gone too far?

He stopped and looked into your eyes, searching for any type of distress.

“More” you purred. You’d be the fucking death of him.

He smirks as he can feel your body tightening around him, you’re getting closer and he isn’t far behind as he slams into you with one final snap of his hips. His lips find yours as you moan into his mouth, tongue and lips clashing together as you come.

Your door swung open “about time” Ghost muttered as he closed the door again.

“So…that was…” Price stumbled out as he pulled out of you, picking up your dress that laid crumpled on the floor. He gently pulled it over your spent body. Resisting the urge to drop kisses to any sliver of skin he could see.

“Great, it was great” you smile, pausing slightly before standing up on your toes to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, chasing your lips as you shared a soft kiss.

“Yeah, it was great” he smiled, suddenly bashful.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖: 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬/𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Hongjoong couldn't decide what gift to buy you while he was travelling. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.11k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Pure Smut

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Idol!Hongjoong x F.Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Edging. Fingering. Dirty talk. Use of a dildo. Making out. Pet names. Swearing. Neck kisses.

Thank you, my darling, @nateezfics, for requesting Hongjoong for this day. I hope you enjoy, baby. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

You don’t know how you ended up in such a predicament. But here you were, sitting on several blankets on the floor with your back against the end of your bed frame with pillows supporting you. Hongjoong had gone on a shopping spree while he was in Paris, and at first, you thought he simply bought you a nice outfit or even some French snacks. But no, this was Hongjoong you were thinking about. The man who secretly has a dark spot. A dirty side and of course he had bought you an array of toys. Especially.. but plugs.

“I didn’t know which one would suit you, so I bought them all.” that was his excuse for the ten or so plugs lying hiding in a giant bag… among other things. He told you that about an hour ago now. Having set up a little spot for you to lay while he worked on you. He first took some attentiveness in stretching you. Lube was all over the blankets by the time he was done and you were shaking like a leaf at this point. His fingers switching between your pussy to your ass was making your head spin in the best way and the more he worked on you the more nervous you got with the idea of the new toys. He wouldn’t tell you what else was in the bag other than ‘it’s a surprise’ making your nerves even more on edge.

He sat behind you, letting you lay on your lower back, holding yourself with your elbows. He sat you in front of your large full-length mirror, letting you see exactly what the gems looked like when they were pushed into your puckered hole. First, it was a red gem, ruby, it was cute, simple and he always said red was your colour. But he kept going, pulling the toy out he pushed another one in. One after the other and at this point you didn’t care what the gem colour was, all that mattered was the feeling of it going in and out over and over again. He was edging you without even realizing and it made you all hot and bothered.

“J-Joong.” at this point he needed him to fuck you before you explode but he just chuckled putting the new on, a purple gem deep inside your ass. He twisted it slowly, pretending to make remarks such as ‘Such a pretty colour’, ‘You should wear purple more often’, ‘It’s got a bright shine than the other gems’ as if he was talking about clothing or some accessory, rather then a butt plug. He pulled it out still satisfied with it. No, there was a perfect one in here, he just needed to find it. Your hazy eyes looked around the room while he dug in the bag, you saw all the plugs lying randomly on the floor, lube dripping off all of them, some most likely smeared with your own juices, given you were practically leaking for Hongjoong to touch you.

“Ahh!” You suddenly look back at yourself in the mirror, seeing he placed a much thicker plug inside this time, but instead of a gem, it was a tail…. a bright red fox tail with a snow-white tip. It sat so beautifully on the floor making you shiver. His fingers rubbed against the fur, patting it while he groaned. This was the perfect piece. A tail that made you look like what he thought of you as…. Just a sweet little fox in a big bad wolfs trap.

“My pretty little fox…” He whispered in your ear making you whimper at his words. He picked up another object from the bag letting you see he got a tentacle dildo. A deep purple one. The one you saw online the other night. You thought you were alone while browsing for sex toys but Hongjoong must have noticed the cheeky shit. He held the toy in front of you giving you a good view of it. You bucked your hips, wiggling in anticipation while he spilled some lube on the object. “You want to be fucked by a tentacle baby? Dirty girl.”

“P-please Joongie.” You cried, feeling him rub the dildo up and down lightly pushing the tip of the tentacle against your clit and it started vibrating. “ffffuuucckk!!” You screamed out, trying to back away from the vibration but Hongjoong’s body caged you, his thighs either side of you. He played with the tail with his free hand, stroking the fur while lightly tugging on it. Everything was so sensitive and you felt like you were going to explode. He slipt the dildo inside your puffy cunt, fucking you harshly with it. Your eyes were glued to the mirror, watching the toy go in and out. In and out…

“Fuck, look at you. You’re enjoying this my little fox. Being fucked stupid on some toys.” His voice rang in your ears. Your head was spinning and your body was jerking in rhythm of his thrusts. You could feel you were close to your high but it felt different. Felt… faster, more intense.

“Hongjoong I-” Before you could say another word your body shook like crazy. Legs locking, hands gripping tight on Hongjoong’s thighs. You squirted all over the blankets, some of it managed to splatter across the mirror, making your lover chuckle in amusement. Once you slowly came down from your high, Joong switched off the toy before discarding it somewhere on the floor. His hand snaked along your wet body, squeezing your tit before gripping your chin, pulling your face upwards so his lips could capture yours.

“Hmm my baby.” he kissed you again “My pretty baby.” he kissed the corner of your mouth, "You enjoying yourself darling?” he licked your neck, sucking your skin. You just humped in response, feeling tired from the orgasm you had just felt. But Hongjoong didn’t give you time to relax in your bliss as he softly pushed you forward, making you fall onto your tummy, keeping your legs bent and ass in the air. Your face was smooshed against the mirror making you keep eye contact with yourself. But Hongjoong had the perfect view. Your ass wiggling in his face with a perfect tail swaying with it.

“You ready for around two…” He tugged harshly on your tail making your eyebrows knit tight together. “I have so many other toys to try on you.”

[fourmoony]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟐)

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.4k

Summary: James, Sirius, and Remus are bested by Hope.

part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the middle of the chaos surrounding your living room.

You’re just short of thirty seconds through the front door – the majority of which you spent kicking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack – and already, you miss the inside of the potion’s lab. You’ve been there all day, daydreaming about being at home. But now. Now, you wish you’d stayed behind with Lily. She’s high maintenance, sure. She’s bossy and full on about it because she’s currently heading the Order’s potion’s labs all over the country – she’s stressed. But Lily Evans is nowhere near as high maintenance as your boyfriend and his friends.

This, you should have known.

Remus and Sirius are bickering loudly over the sound of Hope’s high-pitched screaming. Remus is holding Hope, arms outstretched and a concerned look on his face, like he’s hesitant to have her near her in her current state. He looks panicked. Sirius is trying to strong arm your daughter into a nappy, but she’s kicking her legs so violently that you know he has no hope. He mutters something at Remus, but his voice is cheery and soothing – you suppose in attempt to keep Hope from getting any more violent. Remus huffs and tries lifting your screaming baby up, then down, as if bouncing her. She only cries more.

There are crumpled nappies scattered across the floor and a small bag of what you assume is used wipes – you’re thankful that at least those have been disposed of in a clean way. The fire is roaring, covered by the grate, and the room is far too warm – even for the middle of January. There are bright coloured toys on every surface and a kid’s broom taking up space on the single armchair nearest the kitchen. There’re half drunken milk bottles on the coffee table and half a jar of mashed potato and gravy puree, the spoon of which is sitting on a coaster, still covered in mush.

James’ eyes snap up the minute he nears your shaky intake of breath, and everything stops. His hands are full of a mix of crumpled nappies and baby toys, and his eyes are wide. His hair is messier than usual, a clear sign that he’s been running his hands through it in a fit of stress.

“Hey,” James breathes.

Remus and Sirius have frozen like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. You bypass your boyfriend, eyes narrowed at Remus, who turns from Sirius and thrusts Hope toward you. You take her and immediately, she quiets. You hold her to your chest, hand gently rubbing the back of her head. Remus and Sirius physically release, both letting out a deep breath. James closes his eyes, enjoys the silence for a moment.

“James, pick up the nappies. Outside bin,” You point at James, and he springs into action, nodding enthusiastically, “Remus, toys in the box,” You point to the pink box Sirius made Hope that rests to the right of the fireplace, “Sirius, wash the bottles, and bin the puree.”

The three men spring into action around you while you mentally thank Lily for being so bossy and rubbing off on you. Hope is making quiet noises against your collar bone, and you melt. She’s ten months now, crawling and babbling non-stop It’s been challenging, balancing your work in the potion’s lab with James’ order missions whilst still being able to spend time with Hope together. James is absolutely positive she’s defying nature and biology and growing too fast. But you don’t mind. You’re in constant awe of your daughter and all the milestones she makes. You’d never admit it, but you cried the first time she crawled.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You mumble, lips pressed to Hope’s head.

Her hair is growing fast and dark. There’s enough to put in pigtails, now. She doesn’t have any in today. Simply because James cannot comprehend the idea of a hair tie. Hope tilts her head, bright blue eyes no longer filled with tears, but with wonder. It’s been seven months of being her mum, and your breath still hitches every time she looks at you with that babied wonderment, with that unwavering love and trust. She’s so beautiful, a gift you wonder every day what you ever did to deserve.

“She’s been a moody little witch, today,” Remus comments, launching crinkle books and teddy bears into the pink trunk as he walks around the room.

“She’s teething, I think.” You tell him.

You shift hope in your arms and reach for her nappy bag that’s been abandoned by the doorway into the living room. She wriggles a little when you set her down onto the changing table under the window – the changing table James has said he’ll take upstairs a million times and never has – but settles when you start to hum softly. With a clean nappy and a fresh set of pyjamas, Hope is a different baby. She’s calm and quiet, pliant in your arms when you lift her again to cradle her. Her eyes blink slowly, tiny lips pouted.

James and Sirius return at the same time, the latter wiping down a fresh bottle with a tea towel, collecting any spillage. He turns it over, dropping a bit on his wrist before passing it over, “Perfect temperature.”

“Thanks,” You sit on the suite – now void of any and all toys – and hold the bottle to Hope’s lips.

She takes it greedily and you smile. James presses a kiss to your head before taking a seat beside you both. His hand rests on your thigh, his attention taken by your little girl. Sirius takes a seat on the floor in front of you both, a gentle finger running up and down the bottom of Hope’s foot. She wriggles, gives his hand a little kick and he laughs. Sirius has been obsessed with Hope since the minute he saw her. He’s the best uncle. He spoils Hope beyond belief and loves her as fiercely as you and James do.

Remus required a little convincing. He loves Hope. It’s obvious in the way he reads to her, in the soft voice he uses when he talks to her. But he’s hesitant. Sirius reckons it’s because he’s scared of hurting her with his heavy hands and lanky limbs. You know he never could. He’s sitting across the room, twirling the toy broom in his hands while he sits in the armchair.

“You better not have put her on that broom, Sirius.” You warn the boy at your feet.

He makes grabby hands for Hope now that she’s settled, and you pass her over gently before relaxing against James. Sirius stands slowly, carefully, and makes his way over to Remus, sitting down at his feet instead. They enter their own world, softly cooing at Hope and watching her as she drinks the milk. Remus runs a gentle hand over the top of her head, and another hand across Sirius’ shoulders. You smile.

“Today was hard,” James speaks quietly, fingers playing with yours on your lap.

“I can tell.” You tease.

James huffs a laugh, “I swear it wasn’t even that bad until like, twenty minutes before you got home.”

You know very well James would have tried to keep the house as tidy and calm as possible for as long as possible. He’s a good dad. He’s got a good touch with Hope. She settles with him every time. But he also gets overwhelmed easily.

You eye Sirius and Remus. They’re so calm. So, content.

“I hope they have this, one day.” You whisper, eyes looking up at James.

He’s as beautiful as the day you met him. But he’s older now. There’s stubble on his jaw, a result of his busy schedule. His eyes are a honey hazel that makes you melt, and he turns to look at you with so much love and adoration that you can’t do anything but lean forward and kiss him. His answer is delayed by the wide smile he gives you. But it comes with a faraway look that you assume is a yearning for Sirius and Remus to have everything they could ever dream of.

His fingertips brush up your arm, his warmth encompasses you. You feel content, willing to forget how horrible the world outside your home is.

“I hope so, too, baby.” He mumbles, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

Sirius laughs when Remus flinches because Hope grabs his index finger and hangs on for dear life. They share a smile a second later, and Sirius rests his head on Remus knee, both of them staring down at the beautiful little girl in Sirius’ arms.

“Love you.” You tell James.

He squeezes you, “Love you, too.”

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

🐇 Deuce Spade Easter Headcanons 🐇

In light of it being Easter Sunday, I decided to compile a list of Easter themed headcanons for our local baby chick boy

Also, quick word of warning - I’ve never celebrated Easter before so I deeply apologise if any of this is offensive. I just thought that the whole aesthetic of chicks, eggs and bunnies would go really well with Deuce and wanted to write about that

Reader is female

Masterlist

Since Spring has sprung, you decided to tell Deuce about a holiday from your world and him being the sweetheart he is, wanted to recreate it with you here in Twisted Wonderland

🐣 Imagine decorating Easter eggs with him, just having a blast in Ramshackle, with old newspapers covering the surface of the dining table and a bunch of paints spread out. Deuce takes this very seriously, scrunching his nose up in concentration as a shaky hand carefully applies paint to each egg. You did have a wonderful time coming up with different designs but then Ace got wind of your little date and whined about you playing favourites (“Of course, she’s playing favourites - I’m her boyfriend!”) so the next day your entire first year squad (+ Ortho) all decided to decorate Easter eggs so you ended up with a range of colourful mismatched eggs that were worth their weight in gold.

🐣 MATCHING EASTER THEMED OUTFITS. Like obviously you’d have chick themed outfits but imagine also bunny themed outfits as well with him. Of course, you have to deal with Leona’s teasing about how you look even more like a herbivore now but you kind of predicted that. Also, you send every single picture that you take of you and Deuce to his mother (that you are having constant conversations with) and whilst Deuce is so unbelievably happy that his two favourite people are getting along so well, he could do with a little less gushing about him.

🐣 Speaking of Easter outfits, imagine making Easter bonnets together, using a hot glue gun to stick on little bits and bobs like tiny chicks, bunnies and fake flowers

🐣 You handmake him homemade chocolates that are shaped like little baby chicks and bunnies. He loves them so much that he doesn’t even want to eat them, only to get slapped on the head by Ace for being a whipped idiot

🐣 You, Deuce and the rest of the first (minus Jack) totally don’t get food comas from eating too many chocolate eggs at once, by the way

🐣 You already have a habit of making him cute bento boxes or adorable looking omurice dishes, but you decided to go the extra mile and put little chick figurines inside each one. Deuce feels like he’s going to cry - he loves you so much.

🐣 You get him a bunch of those wind up chick toys - the bright eyed smile on his face outshined the sun

🐣 You organise an Easter egg hunt inside Ramshackle, consisting of chocolate eggs, the eggs you decorated and plastic eggs with little toys inside and let the first years go wild

🐣 The two of you go on dates to petting zoos so that you could hang around with actual chicks and bunnies in a safe environment and also go on picnics in the park where you feed nearby ducks (not bread. Bread is not a safe food for ducks to eat.)

[milkyhoneybee]

Harpy girlfriend who doesn't have human hands and she can't get her wings into the right position to play with her tits, absolutely losing it and trilling loudly when you suck on her nipples and grope/pinch them

Fitting a pair of snakebite nipple suckers onto her and watching as she becomes more desperate, clawed feet coming up to try and pull them off but they're too narrow for her to get a good grip on

Laughing and cooing at her as her feathers fluff out and she gets frustrated as the constant pressure turns to oversensitive pain

Eventually you tell her they'll come off if she bounces enough, and you set up a suction toy on the floor for her, watching her bob up and down erratically as she tries to get the suckers to pop off

Her cloaca dripping wet, stretched around a toy that's just a little too big for her, eyes dark and face flushed, sharp teeth worrying her plump lip

Eventually you take pity on her and yank the nipple suckers off roughly, making her cum hard and let out an avian screech as her nipples are finally exposed. Throbbing, thick, bright red from their abuse

Of course, you don't waste time getting them in your mouth

Next time, you go for clover clamps with weights attached and send her out flying, watching her have to readjust her wings every time the weights make her flinch or tense

You joke about getting her heavy silicone implants and how she wouldn't need to fly then, she'd be your pretty songbird on display, perfect tits to show off how successful she is, not needing to hunt or migrate when she has you to care for her, even if the implants would make her look like a ridiculous, sexualised ornament instead of the regal predator she is in her own mind

If you got them big enough, she'd be able to reach them and press them together with her wings

You could get her some pretty gold chains to hang between nipple piercings, put all sorts of colourful hanging jewels on them to show how much her mate cares for her

Or, even though she's more avian than human, you wonder if you could get her to lactate, especially when she occasionally lays an unfertilised egg or three, always getting broody and needy around then, how cute she'd look begging you to drink from her tits to relieve their fullness, maybe get her a wearable set of pumps modified to fit over her wings like a harness, so she can get her teats sucked while she hops around your home