#it's fine he was just feeling a little silly

[quarterlifekitty]

So I saw this lovely post and was like hey. I am a non confrontational bitch. What if reader was really looking forward to a Valentine’s Day with Simon, and was gutted that he forgot, but tried to suck it up?

Like, I imagine he would notice that you seemed a little bit blue for a bit, but again, he’s new to relationships— he doesn’t want to press on something you’re not ready to share. That’s how he would want to be treated, he hates being prodded, so he keeps his distance, because he doesn’t know what kind of love you need yet. You’re speaking different languages.

It’s not till weeks later— Gaz mentions using a couples spa voucher over his next leave that he got for his girl for valentines. Hey, Ghost, you met yours in December, right? What did you get her for Valentine’s Day?

The stunned silence speaks volumes.

He connects the dots to your low mood at that time. He tries really desperately to think of something to make up for it. Something he can get. But they’re all quick and dirty solutions. He doesn’t want to lie— and it’d be obvious he was only getting something because he felt bad. So he decides to just talk, loathe as he is to do so.

“I missed Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes, you did. But it’s just another day, I guess.” Spoken like someone convincing themselves, not their conversation partner.

“And that’s why you seemed… down.”

“I won’t lie. It made me a little sad… But really, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if it upset you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, if it wasn’t a day that mattered to you… I didn’t want to seem childish. I didn’t want to force you to play along with all of the cards and hearts and things. I was silly to get upset, I know—“

Feeling provoked by the prospect of being high maintenance, you shove down your feelings and needs until they barely take up any space at all. That’s how it goes.

“S’not silly. If it’s important to you, s’important to me. Don’t want you to change jus’ cause you think it’ll make my life easier. When I told you I wanted you, I meant I wanted the whole lot.”

He knows he can’t buy back the 14th. But what’s the thing a girl who loves you wants most in the world? As a child, he found out from discarded magazines that it was something everyone claimed to have the answer to, but didn’t.

She wants a piece of you that no one else in the world has.

He gives you that in the form of his first set of dog tags. The pieces of tin on ball chain that changed his life and how he saw the world forever. His full legal name punched clear, before he’d learned to hide it along with his face. One of the last relics of a Simon that stopped existing before he turned 20.

You keep them wrapped in your fist like a rosary while you sleep every time he goes on leave.

[aurorawritestoescape]

NAUGHTY THOUGHTS

Professor Joel Miller x f!reader || 1,3k

Summary: you’re failing Prof. Miller’s class and he finds a punishment for you.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, lil bit of fluff, big legal age gap (reader’s in college), power imbalance but reader is an initiator, f!oral, edging, pussy pronouns, just the tip, unprotected piv, creampie, professor kink. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description but she wears a skirt.

A/n: huge thank you to @megangovier for this ask and for the idea. Megan, you keep inspiring me with your requests and I’m so grateful! ILY!💞 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and workshopping the story with me😘 And thanks to the Fantastic 4 trailer for ‘the horny’ and for the hot professor image. I hope you will like this story. Love you all!❤️ dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more professor kink

“Another F. Are you happy with it, miss?”

You are standing in front of Professor Miller in his classroom without a trace of guilt on your face. He’s leaning against his desk, scolding you like you’re a silly little girl. Whatever.

“What’s the problem? I’ve given you extra time to revise for the test, helped you with the material and you’re still failing my class.”

You bite your lip, hands clasped in front of you, staring up at him with your Bambi eyes. Your head is empty and your pussy is on fire. You barely hear him. Who could think about grades when there are men like Professor Joel Miller in this world?! Ugh!

“I’m very disappointed. You’re a clever girl but you just don’t seem to care.” He makes a pause and then orders, “You're staying here. Think hard about what makes you fail and then write that you won’t do it again. Until you fill the whole board.”

“Are you making me write lines? It’s not an elementary school, Professor,” you laugh with your brows raised. He walks to his chair, glares up at you and gruffs,

“I don’t care. Go ahead.”

You shrug and saunter to the blackboard. You take a piece of chalk and write in beautiful cursive —

I won’t dream about Prof. Miller’s cock in my pussy anymore.

“Fuck!” You hear him curse before he bolts from his seat and wipes the sentence off with his palm.

“The hell you thinking about? What if anyone sees it?” He’s looming over you, so big and broad and your clit twitches. Your voice sensual and soft, you reply,

“You told me to write the reason I’m failing your class. And it’s the fact that I want you to fuck me, Professor.”

“Stop it,” he hisses, staring daggers at you. While he’s close, you use the opportunity to glide your hand over the expanse of his strong chest covered by a crispy white dress shirt.

“I’m sure you want it too, Professor. You already know what she tastes like, why not feel her too?”

He’s glaring down at you, seething heat coming off his body, his heart booming under your palm. He looks like he’s about to slap or kiss you. You’ll be fine with both options.

Pushing him further, you gently take his big hand, bring it under your skirt and press it to your lacy panties.

“See how soaked I am?” Your whisper makes him shudder. “This is the reason why I don’t hear a thing you say during the lessons.”

He mumbles a ‘fuck’ as you rub his fingers against the lace and moan at the sensation.

In a second his face softens and he falls on his knees in front of you.

“I hate you— I hate you— I hate you—,” he chunts under his breath, pulling your skirt up and you gasp when he presses his face to your covered pussy. He pushes his nose right against your puffy clit and breathes you in. You smile, your fingers running through his curls.

“More,” you moan, bucking your hips into his face and Professor Miller orders with steel in his tone, “Get on my desk, you menace.”

He gets up and you see a huge bulge tenting his black pants. He yanks your panties down your legs and you step out of them with a smirk, then perch your naked ass on the edge of his desk.

He’s standing in front of you, palming his big hard-on, as you lift your feet and plant them on the surface and then spread your folds with your fingers, showing him your crying hole.

His eyes pitch black, his lips wet, he swallows loudly, watching you trace your soft entrance with a pad of your finger, inviting him inside.

“Please, fuck me,” you purr.

He shakes his head.

“No. I can’t. I won’t.”

You sigh deeply and your eyes well up with tears.

“Why? Am I not pretty enough, Professor?”

You see a glimpse of sympathy in his expression but it vanishes as fast as it appears.

“Don’t play with me. I see what you’re doing. I’m not putting it inside you.”

You scoff with annoyance and wipe your tears off with your hand.

“Fine. Make me come, then.”

He shakes his head, angry at you or himself but probably both and bends over to your blooming pussy.

He’s not wasting his time, his lips latch straight to the source of your waterfall - your sopping hole, and he laps at it with his hot tongue, drinking your essence, growling and moaning against your cunt.

“Oh, Professor—so good— don’t stop,” you whimper, tugging at his curls, pushing his mouth closer to your buzzing pussy.

His tongue is dancing over your clit and you arch your back in pleasure, but the moment you feel the heat rise up in your core, he rips the climax out of your hands. He moves his lips to your mound and gently bites your flesh. Your pussy is aching, hungry for a release, but he does everything except makes you come— he peppers kisses along your inner thighs, traces your entrance with the tip of his tongue, kisses your folds all over. He’s torturing you, punishing you for your brattiness and the edging soon makes you whine.

”Professor, I wanna come. Can I come?”

”I don’t know. Can you?” He mocks as his eyes snap up at you, before he continues kissing your folds.

“May I come, sir?” you correct yourself with a shaky voice. You feel his smile twist his face and spread your pussy lips. Professor pulls away to sting you with his smirk but his face falls when he sees your glossy eyes and flushed face.

“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles before his mouth flies to your poor clit and he begins rubbing it with a flat of his tongue, finally giving you the pressure and the sensation you’ve been craving so much.

After the edging, an orgasm hits you like a wave, your back drops on the desk and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cutting down a loud moan that’s rising from from deep inside you. While you’re shaking and jerking under the caress of ecstasy, Professor keeps licking your pulsating pussy, thirsty for your cum, generously flowing into his mouth.

You’re panting heavily, still lying down, smiling in a haze of an afterglow, when you see him hastily get up, his hand wrapped around the base of his stiff cock, leaking and engorged.

“Put it in, Professor,” you murmur, massaging your puffy pussy. “She’s so wet and warm. Just for you to use.”

He grunts and, breaking his own rule, pushes his cock into your cunt but only to the tip. He drops his head down and moans, his chest rising and falling fast. You give his fat head a squeeze with your walls and he immediately starts spilling his hot cum inside you.

“Yes,” you purr triumphantly, “Give me all of it, fill me full. Let’s hope no one notices your cum sliding down my thighs later.”

He growls but doesn’t tear his eyes from his thick member twitching in his hand, pumping his sperm into your cunt, rope after rope.

When your core is stuffed with his load, he pulls out slowly, trying not to hurt you. With half-lidded eyes, he watches a pearly globe of his seed slide out of your hole, then scoops it up and pushes it back inside you.

You slowly sit up, drunk on the cock and the orgasm and give your professor a satisfied smile.

He looks pleased himself and leans in to kiss you. His lips gently caress yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Love tasting myself on your lips,” you mumble, pulling away, and he sighs.

“I bet. Bad girl.”

He helps you to slide off his desk and fixes your clothes.

When you both look decent except for your flushed faces, you hug him and whisper in his ear,

“I’ll see you Tuesday, Professor Miller.”

He curses and you giggle, walking to the door. You unlock it, send him an air kiss and leave the classroom.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💞

MASTERLIST || more Professor kink

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

[moonstruckme]

Hello! I find myself unable to stop thinking about fae Sirius, so here's another drabble about him as sort of a continuation to the first :)

cw: brief, vague allusion to sex

fae!Sirius x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

You’re scanning the earth for small, white flowers when there’s a rustle in the bushes nearby. You turn, expecting the orange streak of a fox vanishing into the brush or a bird taking flight, but you see nothing. The forest is quieter today, as it has been for you lately. Stiller. The sort of place with secrets. 

You draw in a breath as arms snake around your middle, catching you in their snare. 

“Hello, my little naïf,” says a familiar voice, smooth and lovely as the rock in your pocket. “What are you doing wandering about by yourself?”

You turn in Sirius’ arms. He grins down at you, and you press your smiles together in a gentle kiss hello as your own arms wind around his middle. He likes spending a lot of time pressed close together like this; you didn’t know you’d enjoy it so much until you did. 

“I’m looking for chickweed,” you answer him. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. Like most of him, they’re beautiful, finely shaped things; you reach up to trace your finger underneath one. Sirius very dignifiedly does not preen over it. “You’re not looking for me?” 

You shake your head, though you both know it’s a lie. You’ve always enjoyed this particular forest, but you visit twice as often since you met him. You’re never not thinking about Sirius, finding things for him, wishing to see him. It’d be embarrassing if he weren’t the same. 

“I was looking for you,” you confide to appease him. 

He tuts softly, a smile curving one side of his mouth. Sirius loves when you’re plain about your feelings for him. He doesn't always return the courtesy, but that’s alright; you can tell that they’re there whether he does or not. He wouldn’t have given you his name otherwise. 

“And what have you brought for me today, lovely thing?” 

“Do I always need to bring you something?” you ask, teasing. “Am I not enough by myself? You never give me anything.” 

Sirius’ eyes flicker with amusement, because this too is a lie. Sirius has given you many, many things. He’s taught you how to listen to the moods of the wind and shown you how to entice butterflies to rest in your palm and brought you unimaginable pleasure one long afternoon by the creek. Not least of all, he’s given you his devotion, proven in a thousand tiny ways. 

You’re unable to conceal your smile as you reach into your pocket, pulling out the rock you picked up this morning. It’s oval, worn to perfect smoothness by the rushing waters of the river you found it near, and a grayish blue that reminds you of Sirius’ eyes (when they stay still for a while, that is). 

Sirius takes the rock from you, studying it. He rubs his thumb across the top. “This is pretty.” 

“It is,” you agree, basking in your own private pleasure. You think he’d still say the same thing even if he did know why you chose it for him, but you enjoy keeping this to yourself. Sirius’ eyes slide to yours like he can tell you’re keeping secrets, but he doesn’t push. 

“Not,” he says, “as pretty as you, however.” His hold tightens without warning, drawing a surprised giggle from you as your bodies come flush together. “You’re more than enough of a gift.” 

You hear the sincerity in his tone and repay it in kind, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I know.” 

Sirius’ eyes squint the way they tend to do when you particularly delight him. Just before he calls you strange or silly or my lovely little oddity. He doesn’t say any of those things now; only, “You won’t find chickweed around here, you know.” 

You frown. “If I knew, why would I be looking?” 

Sirius heaves a great sigh and presses his lips to your temple before loosening his hold on you. He guides you away from your little patch of bushes by your hand, moving with otherworldly grace. “There’s chickweed by the meadow. We’ll find it for you there. Do you use it for something?” 

You nod. “Pesto.” 

His brow furrows. 

“It’s food. I’ll bring some for you to try.” You give him a sweet look. “Thank you for showing me where to find it.” 

A low hum. “What would you do without me?” 

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll never have to find out.” 

“No,” he agrees, fingers winding between yours like vines, “you won’t.” 

[manyu-ten]

Calé here! My specific community does consider Gypsy a slur (moreso with younger generations) but other communities have reclaimed the term—it is what it is. Some are okay with it, some aren't. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't singing God Help the Outcasts or Hellfire with the term involved (bad rep aside—it was also the only rep I had as a little kid watching Disney movies 😭).

DC Rebirth is pushing the idea that Mary is Dick's Romani parent and that she is from France. Given this, I think its okay to assume she was probably Manouche or Calé! I like to think she was Calé, of course and for that reason, when I write or make headcanons for Dick, I always like to think that'd he'd be a very passionate Flamenco dancer 😌.

As for languages, I think many of us like to think that Dick wasn't actually born in the USA and eventually immigrated here as a performer with Haly's Circus. Obviously, there are many parts of DC's convoluted canon that objects to this—but it's not as though DC has done a good job with Romani representation, historically.

If we go with him being American—then yeah, he was probably speaking American-English just fine. If he was born somewhere in Europe, it would be alright to assume his first language was something else, though he would probably be taught from a very young age not to speak Romani with outsiders.

He would understand Jason intrinsically and it is odd to me that it is at all debated that he wouldn't understand the banes of classism and racism. When I was a kid, I never told anyone I met I was Romani. It was safer for me to identify solely by another part of my ethnic identity, because I was more comfortable dealing with that type of racism (its silly now, but was a really real fear I had growing up).

Also, the thing about learning to defend yourself from payos—yeah, I feel you on that one 100% 😭😭. Learned that the hard way. Payos of my own family will happily call me a thief or accuse me of 'black magic'. I remember once when I was younger and had told an older woman I was Calé, she had assumed one of my parents must have stolen my sibling because they are much lighter and less "exotic" looking than me.

Let my guy Dick sing Naci en Alamo (NOT THE LEVY VERSION, MIND Y'ALL) passionately! Let him make hearty stews! Let him make all the cabbage and meat dishes available to him. Let him Flamenco till his shoes are worn out. Let him be Roma, please.

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[comatosebunny09]

— cw: fluff, silliness, highly suggestive, reader implied to be femme, overuse of terms of endearment (sweetie, sweetheart), mdni to be safe — notes: @leighsartworks216 this is your doing. *affectionately shakes fist*

“Sylus,” you begin one day on a whim, mindlessly scrolling through your socials.

“Yes, sweetie?” he purrs, enthralled by the deckled pages of a book, languidly massaging your foot in his lap.

“Are you ticklish?”

He chuckles something murky behind you. “Not that I am aware of.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You don’t have to look back to sense the deadpanned look on his face. “I’ve lived in this skin for a long time, sweetheart. I think I would know if I were ticklish.”

You briskly sit up, maneuvering until you’re facing him. You lean closer with curious eyes, perched on the couch of his study like a feline.

“I don’t believe you.”

Sylus scoffs. Quietly sets his book down on the coffee table, a challenge tugging one corner of his mouth upwards. He holds his hands up, uncrossing his legs, something of mischief shining in his eyes as he sits back in an easy slouch.

“You’re welcome to see for yourself, sweetie.”

You don’t like how that sounds. How he drawled out the term of endearment. Still, you’re incredibly persistent. You’ve been exclusive for some months now, yet he’s still an enigma.

Your lips twisting with determination, you begin your examination. First, you start with the obvious places that would typically make people squeal—near his collarbones, in his armpits, down his sides, drag your nails inwards across his stomach. You peer up at his face. If he feels anything, he doesn’t reveal it, still wearing that insufferably smug look as he observes you.

You don’t find any sensitive zones on his torso. Just defined planes of muscle that make your pulse quicken and cause you to swallow past the dry film of your throat.

You proceed with your impromptu frisking, raking your nails down the sides of his devastating quads. Glance up. Nothing. Hmm.

You swivel your hands inwards, tracing over the inward trajectory of his thighs. He parts them for you, and it becomes evident he’s enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with the catastrophic shape of his body. Like he knows you know he feels good.

You cast him a pensive look. He feigns innocence with a shrug, signaling you to continue your investigation with the flit of his eyes.

So you do, creeping your fingers down the inner parts of his knees. Outwards. Pluck yourself from the sticky leather of the settee and sit between his legs on the floor, tracing over his calves and ankle bones.

You glance up. He still radiates complacency, yet his eyes hold something heavier than their usual, teasing weight. It’s something unmistakable, but you ignore it, instead testing the socked soles of his feet for any signs of vulnerability. Any minute twitches, any jolts or hitched breaths. No dice.

You relent with a sigh, crawling onto his lap. His heavy hands clasp around where thigh meets hip, keeping you steady, your thighs framing his.

“Guess you’re not ticklish,” you say with a solemn smile, twining your arms about his neck.

Why you thought the big, bad wolf of Onychinus would have any sensitive zones in the first place is beyond you. Maybe it was just an excuse to feel him up.

“I told you,” he husks affectionately. Voice crackles in that way that makes your belly swoop, and he closes a tender hand around your nape to draw you in for a kiss.

Your mouths part with a sticky click. And you’re dizzy and laughing something light as your foreheads press together, pheromones and fondness filling what little space lies between your bodies.

“Kudos for trying, sweetheart.”

You don’t enjoy being proven wrong, but you suppose it’s fine if you lose to him. Leaning back, you study his pretty features, the delicate sweep of his lashes as his eyes slip shut.

You thread your fingers through his hair, grazing one particularly vulnerable spot at the top of his cranium, and you don’t miss how he tenses beneath you. How he winces, releasing a sound so far-off and delicate, you’re not sure if you heard it in the first place.

Curious, you try for the spot again, evoking the same reaction, and Sylus’ hold around your waist tightens the slightest bit.

With a troublesome smile, you test the opposite side, garnering a similar response and—

Oh.

Oh, this.

Like the devilish little fiend you are, you scratch these newly revealed spots simultaneously, reveling in his response. How his carefully constructed composure begins to crumble beneath you.

He twitches and fidgets under your care, lips parting, a low, guttural sound dredged from his throat. He unconsciously bunts his head against your hands, leaning into your touch. You watch as a pretty, peachy flush creeps into his cheeks, staining the tips of his ears, and his brows scrunch in something of anguish.

Had you not known any better, you’d think you were scratching behind the ears of a feline. Had Sylus been a cat in a past life? You giggle mischievously at the notion before something very hot and prominent prods at the inner cut of your thigh.

Before you can investigate, Sylus ensnares your wrists in his hand, and he’s panting, glaring at you with those pretty, scarlet eyes to match the beautiful flush taking possession of his face.

His voice is hoarse. Smoky. Dangerous. You feel the buzz of it pooling warm in the lower reaches of your belly, leaking down between your thighs.

“You keep doing that, and I might have to retaliate, sweetheart.”

You swallow, your throat thickening, your mouth slightly open. Your pulse thrums a war cadence in your ears, and your breaths are short as desire spumes through you.

“You won’t do it,” you challenge, your tone husky. Shaky.

“Is that a challenge?” Sylus returns, his grip on your wrists slackening until he releases them.

He tugs you impossibly closer on his lap via the globes of your ass, and his weighted girth slides deliciously over the center of your thighs, eliciting a bitten-off sound from your mouth. You rest your hands on the defined planes of his chest to maintain a modicum of space, though it’s fruitless.

He draws your head down until your breaths intermingle, long, spindly fingers sneaking beneath your chin to moor you to the spot. He grazes your mouth with his, and a pleasant thrill ripples through you, your fingers pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“Why don’t I show you what happens to naughty girls who test my patience?”

[cod-indulgences]

Simon Riley x female!reader, drinking, drunk sex, blowjobs, silly and sweet

Part 1

Part 2

Simon didn't let you give him road head, sadly, but he does set you down on the couch all sweet and bring you water. He's so good to you even when you're embarrassing him.

And why's he embarrassed anyway? Guy should be happy he's got a girlfriend who likes sucking him off. Which you still want, Simon, it's fine- you're calmed down a bit, had some water, and now you want something else to swallow.

"Jesus christ," he says and he's got his mask off so you can see his mouth twitch like he's trying not to smile. "No, baby, you need to sleep it off."

Really? He's sure? He doesn't want your mouth kissing his thighs, licking wet stripes up that so-soft skin, nuzzling into the base of his cock as he chubs up? He doesn't want to feel your tongue flicking over the head, drawing out little sips of precome, delicious, every inch of Simon is worth worshipping.

He sits down heavily, swearing, and you fall off slide off gracefully move between his knees, pulling at the button of his pants until he takes care of it for you. You push in before he can get his cock out, rubbing your face against his hard-on and inhaling that special soap-skin-sweat-musk smell that you love, the scent of your man getting turned on for you, and Simon swears again when you put just the softest, sweetest kiss where the head of his cock pushes on his boxers.

You don't want to tease him too much, he might say no again. So you pull him out through the front of his boxers and lick up the side of his cock, rubbing that soft, soft skin, drooling to wet him down as you get the head in your mouth properly.

It's a bolt of desire in your belly to hear him moan your name, the way his breath hitches and his thighs jump, as you slowly work down his cock, taking more into your mouth each time. Fuck, he gets you so wet, the way he gets hard and thick for you, calm and collected everywhere else but he can't hold back here. Every time his cock jumps you reward him with a little moan, when his hand settles in your hair, cupping your head, you look up at him through your lashes as you bob down on his cock. He's breathing hard, watching you like you're something special.

Fucking hell you are going to marry this man.

You moan and push down more, trying to get all of him- it's a stretch, he's thick around and bumping into your throat, but you want it, you need his cock in you, taking you, just as much as you take him apart-

Simon pulls you off, and you gasp, sticking your tongue out and trying to get back onto him.

"Fuck, baby, you really want it that bad huh?" His voice is so deep and dark, it makes you gush a little each time. He lets you come a little closer, lick the head, and when you whine he lets you go. You dive back into his groin, sucking his cock with wet, sloppy bobs of your head, drool in the corners of your mouth where you don't bother to wipe it away. One of your hands gets between his thighs and worms down to cup his balls, playing with them as you lave over the head of his cock with your tongue.

His hips are thrusting up and you let him take control a little, using his rhythm, and stick your other hand down your pants and into your panties. You're so fucking wet, clit already begging as you rub your fingers across it, and you moan as Simon fucks up into your face. Everything is sensations, the taste of his dick drooling into your mouth, the hot silky feel of it, his big thighs trembling around your head, your fingers on your clit and dipping down to your hole.

Simon is thrusting harder, faster, and you hear him gasp "look at me baby" as you whimper around him, so close already, wanting his come.

You look up at him, seeing his pink cheeks and open mouth and eyes so dark, Simon holds your head and fucks hard into you, bumping his cock at your throat, and your eyes roll back as he floods your mouth with come. Your fingers blur over your clit, and you clench your pussy on an orgasm, feeling your body go limp for a moment, held up around Simon's cock where he spills the last of his come over your tongue. You rub yourself through it, shuddering on an aftershock when the mess of drool and come spills over your lips, smeared by Simon's cock over your cheeks and chin. Fuck, so good, covered by his come, smelling like him and fingers wet with your own. Your brain is reeling under all the pleasure, still half-drunk, and when Simon lifts you up to his lap you go easily.

You flop into his neck, limp against him, and shudder when he takes your wet hand and licks it clean, fuck. You're properly out of it now, but still let Simon lick your mouth as well, soft and open as he cleans up his mess. A little kiss on your nose signals he's done, and you blink blearily at him, smiling. He's smiling too, nuzzling your faces together. So sweet. So cute. Your precious love, giving you his cock and his come and his heart.

Oh you want to marry him so bad. So much, gonna get on one knee next time instead of both.

Simon stills under you. "Uh...love? What was that?"

Hmm?? Oh, you don't know, you're tired now. Time to sleep, Simon.

"Baby- baby, no, come on, what was that last bit?"

You let yourself drift off on Simon's shoulder, smug in your victory. You did get to suck his dick.

~

Soap's phone buzzes and he pauses his goodbyes to Gaz and Price to check it.

Ghostie: Johnny

Soap: so did u get ur dick sucked lol

Ghostie: Johnny I think I got proposed to

Ghostie: Johnny what do I do she's asleep now. Do I ask about it? Ignore it??

Ghostie: Johnnny answer.me I'm fucking losing it

Soap can't answer, he's face down on the table wheezing with laughter, Gaz and Price staring big eyed at the texts on the phone.

Ghostie: Johnny I mean it i need help I have the ring in my drawer but do I still give it to her??

[bithcisweartogod]

it’s not that cheng xiaoshi doesn’t trust lu guang. he does, probably more than anyone. him and qiao ling are the closest people he has. hell, he willingly trusts lu guang with his life on a daily, blindly allowing the guy to lead him in every dive, never once doubting that with lu guang in charge everything will be fine. 

yet sometimes he can’t help but wish he would tell him more. not that cheng xiaoshi feels like he’s hiding something. he just wants to know more about lu guang. cheng xiaoshi himself has never been a particularly secretive person. he likes to share bits and pieces of himself with others, but only those that hover on the surface, not allowing too deep of a look into his mind. sure, he also doesn’t tell people everything. why would he? but lu guang barely shares anything at all.

those little crumbles of him that cheng xiaoshi managed to gather over the years either came as a result of pure observation or accidents. sometimes, if cheng xiaoshi asked, lu guang would tell him about the books he reads, or show him movies he likes, share songs he listens to. but that’s about it. cheng xiaoshi’s grateful for what he can get, but is it so wrong to want to know more about your partner? 

and yeah, maybe lu guang’s lack of desire to share stuff about himself comes from the fact that cheng xiaoshi can and will tease him about it but come on. that’s what friends are for! something, he has to share something! like, childhood memories, for instance. it doesn’t even have to be something deep or anything, cheng xiaoshi doesn’t expect lu guang to get into the heavy stuff like he’s in a therapy session. something light and funny though, maybe a little silly, that should be fine, right? everyone has these kind of stories! yet whenever cheng xiaoshi and qiao ling dive into this topic lu guang just observes them quietly, all small smiles and stifled laughter. 

qiao ling brought an old photo album one day. she found it during a major cleaning up session at her parents’ house. despite being her family’s photo album, it had lots of pictures of cheng xiaoshi, so she knew she had to bring it to the photo studio.

and there they were, the three of them seated on the sofa, looking through the photos. the pictures were really wholesome. little qiao ling holding little cheng xiaoshi’s hand at an amusement park, both of them smiling widely. she cooed at the image, and then, in the same sweet voice as before, she said: “remember how you threw up after that one ride that we told you not to take?”, leaving cheng xiaoshi frozen and lu guang laughing up his sleeve.

so that’s how it went. whenever cheng xiaoshi appeared in a photo qiao ling would add some details about its backstory, making embarrassing ones even more so. like, here’s a picture of cheng xiaoshi with mustache drawn on his face in black marker. he’s showing off, posing like a character from a movie.

“a few seconds after that he showed us the marker he draw those with and mom told him it’s permanent” qiao ling deadpans.

“and i took it very well” boasts cheng xiaoshi, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you cried like a baby” 

“did not” 

“i think you did”, intervenes lu guang, who had already turned the page, discovering a follow-up photo, that, although smudgy, showed a wailing cheng xiaoshi. so no, he did not, in fact, take it well. cheng xiaoshi’s ears turned red.

“you took a picture? i was standing there crying and you just took a picture?” he exclaims.

“sorry, sorry” says qiao ling, laughing. “it was too funny”.

cheng xiaoshi, of course, saw that as a challenge. he flipped through the pages of the photo album and then stopped, smiling in that manner of his that meant he’s up to no good. 

“look who we have here” he said melodically.

qiao ling scoffed. 

“it can’t be that bad, let me see— oh god”.

the picture showed little qiao ling, up close, definitely an attempt of hers to take a selfie on her parents’ camera. but the angle wasn’t the worst part. the makeup. what was going on. bright splotches of blue eyeshadow covered her eyes, her eyebrows looked like she got inspired by cheng xiaoshi’s mustache and drew them with a sharpie, her lips were over-lined with pink lipstick, and, as a cherry on top, glitter. it was everywhere. but little qiao ling seemed proud of herself, while the current one looked like she was holding back tears. she’ll definitely ask who and why decided that it would be a good idea to put this picture in the album when she comes home. 

meanwhile, cheng xiaoshi was laughing uncontrollably, less from looking at the photo and more from seeing qiao ling’s reaction. lu guang was covering his mouth, trying to hide a smile. 

“don’t worry, qiao ling-jie, your skills definitely improved” he tried to placate her. 

“i sure hope they did!” screamed distressed qiao ling, looking as flabbergasted as she was before.

she turned the page to try and change the subject. suddenly, a blurred something caught cheng xiaoshi’s attention. 

“what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the photo. 

and now it was qiao ling’s turn to laugh. 

“idiot, that’s your butt!” 

cheng xiaoshi looked at her, bewildered, then back at the photo and then the recognition finally sank in. 

“what the hell is it doing in your family’s photo album?” he tried to snatch the album away but qiao ling grabbed it first, quickly passing it to lu guang. with the way his palm covered his mouth it was hard to tell whether he’s laughing or genuinely concerned. 

“why— who even decided to develop it?” cheng xiaoshi looked over lu guang’s shoulder, not trying to hide the photo anymore now that he’s already seen it. instead, he buried his face into the fabric of lu guang’s shirt, mortified. 

“actually, you did” answers qiao ling, smiling from ear to ear. 

“what?!” 

“yeah! you were the one who brought it to us! you thought that the scar you got was super cool, so you decided to take a picture of it, and then asked aunt shao to develop it. and she did”. 

memories were coming back to cheng xiaoshi, the way his mom laughed and immediately agreed to his request. she sure had an interesting sense of humor. he looked at the photo again, more intently this time. 

“but you gotta admit…it does look cool. like a lightning…”

“wanna put it in a frame?” lu guang suggested, earning a loud snicker from qiao ling and a death glare from cheng xiaoshi.

they bickered over the photos, competing in who can make the other more embarrassed, but despite all the noise they made over this album, it felt good to revisit those memories. to look back on their past and laugh. to share it with lu guang. 

later that day, when cheng xiaoshi and lu guang were already in their beds, slowly dozing off, cheng xiaoshi decided to ask something. 

“lu guang? you asleep?” 

after a short period of time a muffled answer comes out 

“no”

a beat. cheng xiaoshi hesitates. 

“it’s just…you never showed us any pictures from when you were a kid. or any pictures of your parents” or any pictures at all. for some reason he felt unsure. like he’s stepping into a territory not yet open for him. “i wouldn’t be too surprised to find out you were born an adult” a quiet laugh. an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. 

“i can just see you saying ‘thank you for carrying me all those nine months, mother’ and bowing to the doctors” he blabbers, trying to continue the joke, which earns a low stifled laugh from lu guang. 

“you’re ridiculous” he says, and cheng xiaoshi can hear him smiling. warmth spreads in his chest. after remaining silent for some time, lu guang speaks again.

“it’s nothing special, really. my parents just never liked to take photos. i don’t have anything to show, that’s it” 

it made cheng xiaoshi sad, the fact that he’d never get to see lu guang little. was his hair always white? was his attitude always so quiet and stoic? did he ever do any of the embarrassing things he and qiao ling were up to when they were kids? 

“you’re disappointed?” lu guang asks suddenly. damn, he’s uncannily good at reading his mind.

“don’t be silly” comes out cheng xiaoshi’s immediate response. then, turning to the side, he ads, “i have you here now. that’s all that matters”.

and that’s true. whatever past lu guang had, whatever things he’s purposefully hiding away from him…he’s here, with cheng xiaoshi. and, as lu guang himself said, he’s not going anywhere.

next day qiao ling comes into the photo studio again. in her hands there’s…a book? she places it on the counter, smiling happily. a book turns out to be a photo album. a brand new one, all pages empty, waiting to be filled. 

“it just hit me suddenly, after i left yesterday. it’s so stupid. we don’t have a photo album of our own! at the photo studio! absurd”.

and just like that, they started piling up a history of their own, capturing time in the pages of the album. a picture of lu guang on the sofa, fallen asleep in the middle of reading a book. sunlight dances on his skin. he scrunches his nose in his sleep. a picture of qiao ling pulling cheng xiaoshi into a hug. he tries to look annoyed but his smile betrays him. cheng xiaoshi with a braid. it looks a little messed up since his hair’s not long enough, but pretty nonetheless. lu guang patting a stray cat near the photo studio. qiao ling and xu shanshan hitting cheng xiaoshi with pillows. qiao ling smiling brightly as cheng xiaoshi scrubs the floor behind her. he lost a bet and was supposed to clean up for a month. lu guang eventually agreed to help him (he always does) and ended up taking the majority of cheng xiaoshi’s cleaning duties upon himself. lu guang with a pissed off expression, huge coffee spot on his shirt. he accidentally spilled it and cheng xiaoshi had to capture the moment as evidence that lu guang does in fact fuck up sometimes. lu guang smiling. lu guang posing with an awkward peace sign. lots of lu guang, actually. because cheng xiaoshi, unlike lu guang’s parents, likes taking photos. especially photos of lu guang. 

it’s not that cheng xiaoshi doesn’t trust lu guang. he does, probably more than anyone. so he knows that lu guang would tell him more when he’s ready. there’s no rush. he likes it even more like that - getting to know him, gradually, bit by bit. 

[sammylkcho]

Hiii I love ur platonic and possessive Astro with younger!reader and that got me thinking..How about platonic and possessive Sprout with a Baby girl!reader as his sibling?? And it feels a bit silly.. but I’m allowed to be silly and you too :D!!

-✨

I like the idea, and I'd also love to get creative by imagining that baby!reader would have an appearance similar to a seed, with just one or two leaves that look like hair due to the way strawberries grow

And I took my own creative liberties when writing about Sprout, btw

Warnings/Notes: Babygirl!reader, possesive Sprout (platonic), pronuns she/her with Y/N [Reader], a bit OOC

Gardenview had never been this busy on a holiday weekend—unless there was some kind of event or pending task to be done. But this time, it was just a normal day.

Not to mention that the Toons’ Handlers rarely showed up unless it was under strict orders from Delilah or Arthur. So, naturally, all the Toons were trying to figure out what was going on or what was keeping the staff running back and forth without stopping.

Even the Mains weren’t getting any attention! And considering they were usually the Handlers' top priority, everyone was equally surprised.

"Dandy, are you sure Devan didn’t mention anything?" Poppy asked, resting her face in the palm of her hands, clearly curious and anxious to know what was happening outside.

"Ah… Poppy, I’m going to give you the same answer I gave you the last ten times: no." Dandy replied, flipping through drawings that various kids had made during their visits to Gardenview and left behind.

"Nothing bad happened, right? Delilah rarely meets with our Handlers…"

"Stop worrying that music box of yours, Boxten! I already told you everything’s going to be fine!"

Poppy tried to reassure Boxten, hoping to keep him from spiraling into an anxious, worry-filled state.

The atmosphere was starting to grow tense as everyone began coming up with their own theories and speculations about what could be happening. The fact that no one knew anything, and that it was all so sudden—even for the Mains—was far too strange.

"Uuuuh… What dumb designs, looks like a radish."

"Yeah, a really ugly and dumb radish."

"Oh man, they look so ridiculous with those little flowers around them!"

Suddenly, not-so-discreet murmurs and laughter from Gigi and Connie started echoing louder through the room, causing all the Toons to go silent just to hear what they were talking about. Not only did it spark curiosity about their conversation, but also about whatever it was they were laughing at.

Vee, who had been standing with Shelly and Sprout just moments ago, walked over to the two Toons with a deep frown, filled with suspicion over whatever they were scheming.

"Ahem. Do you two plan on showing us what you’ve got?" Vee demanded, crossing her arms as her gaze flicked between Gigi and Connie.

A brief silence settled between them as they exchanged glances, before Connie sighed and Gigi pouted slightly, reluctantly revealing the papers they had been holding.

"Let’s just say I took a little stroll through Delilah’s office while they were busy and found… this." Connie explained with a teasing lilt, barely holding back a laugh at Vee’s deepening frown upon realizing she had been snooping around in Delilah’s office.

Vee immediately started scolding Connie, yelling at her about how she shouldn’t be digging through the founders’ (their creators’) belongings, since it was strictly forbidden. Not to mention—it was also stealing. She also blamed Gigi, accusing her of plotting to rummage through Delilah and Arthur’s things while all of this was going on.

While that whole scene was unfolding, Sprout noticed a sheet of paper that Connie had set aside while reluctantly enduring Vee’s scolding. Curious, he moved closer, picking it up to examine it in more detail.

The details on the page left him completely stunned—no, more than stunned.

In the upper left corner, the name Y/N Seedly was written. Meanwhile, the center of the page was filled with designs of this Y/N, depicting a rather childlike appearance. The design closely resembled a growing plant, with its greenish tones and the tiny leaves that barely looked like hair. Below that, Delilah and Arthur’s signatures were present, along with a couple of extra notes marked as "to be added" or simply labeled as "notes" about Y/N.

“She doesn’t look any older than Toodles… She actually seems smaller than that ‘Y/N.’ I’d even say the kids who visit Gardenview are older than this one, and Gardenview accepts kids as young as five…”

Rodger’s sudden voice snapped Sprout out of his thoughts, making him aware of the growing warmth he was feeling—and the countless eyes now locked onto the paper he was holding.

“Wha- WHY ARE YOU ALL STANDING BEHIND ME?” Sprout exclaimed sharply, only just realizing the sheer number of curious Toons gathered behind and beside him, all trying to get a look at what he had in his hands.

Rodger continued mumbling possible conclusions based on the most logical explanations, but Sprout wasn’t paying attention anymore. His focus was entirely on the name written on the page.

Why did they have his last name? Were they supposed to be related in some way, or was it just a coincidence—?

“Alright, that’s enough chattering, everyone. We’ve got a new friend! But hush, okay?”

A new voice—one that was very well-known among them—rang out, immediately quieting all the murmurs and scattered conversations as the Toons turned their attention toward Devan.

Sam entered the room, cradling a small bundle wrapped in a soft red blanket with white polka dots. From the gentle rise and fall of the bundle, it was clear that he was holding someone.

Sprout was the first to step forward, moving toward his Handler to get a closer look at what he was keeping so carefully hidden. He already had a slight suspicion about what—or who—it was.

Sam knelt down to Sprout’s height, gently bringing the tiny figure closer. Nestled within the soft cotton blanket was a small being, peacefully asleep.

“Hey, looks like you finally have a family of your own,” Sam murmured, offering Sprout a soft smile. “Meet Y/N Seedly—your new sister.”

He spoke the last part in a quieter voice, knowing that Sprout didn’t like hearing his last name spoken aloud, especially in front of everyone.

“Uh… Am I holding her right?” Sprout asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he carefully adjusted his grip, unsure of how to properly carry his new little sister.

“Perfect. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

Sam stood up, ready to share the news with the rest of the Toons. Meanwhile, the Mains gathered around Sprout, peeking curiously from the sides but careful not to disrupt the little moment he was having.

Sprout’s tail began wagging from side to side as he gazed down at his new sister, like something straight out of a fairy tale. That settled it—he would take very good care of her. Nothing was going to happen to her, not on his watch. He was going to be the best big brother in the entire world.

Slowly, he reached out and gently touched the tiny leaves sprouting from her head—soft, pale green, not yet fully grown. The same went for the small tail she had, barely visible and still too underdeveloped for any properly sized leaves to form.

Carefully, he pulled her closer to his chest, making sure not to wake her and disturb her dreams. That protective feeling inside him only grew stronger. He had to keep her safe. Nothing—not even the smallest harm—was going to touch his little sister.

[arcadecoconut]

sadly the finale was about what I expected. some nice character beats, some cool theatrical moments, but it all loses a lot of its shine when you stop to think about the plot because it's thematically and logically just nonsense. Like, teeth gritting, arms thrown up 'sure, I guess' levels of silly. A tragic lack of ... Follow through? Impact? Meaning?

And this is not me trying to be a hater! Bells hells weren't my favourite party, but I still liked them! I wouldn't have invested so many hours into the campaign if I didn't enjoy them! But the utter lack of consequences renders their own journey a little pointless, no?

Like, what was the point in agonising over the risk of Imogen and Fearne becoming vessels if becoming a vessel was super easy and bore no risks? Why spend so long debating what should happen to the gods if the gods apparently have no bearing on the state of divine magic in exandria? (divine magic and even divine intervention still works fine even without the gods in place? Come ON.)

Divine magic is fine, nothing has changed except the gods are now mortal, but predathos isn't going after any of the divine champions or other sources of divine, he only likes the specific god-flavour of divine apparently?

The main villain of the campaign is totally fine! Ludinus is living out his cottage core fantasies sipping tea and the main party of the campaign don't even bother to inquire about him in their own epilogues? they don't even care enough to follow up on the escaped villain of their own story?

It just feels like it renders all of bells hells achievements and big swings kinda flat if there was no real risk of anything negative happening anyway. Some nice moments for the shippers I guess, but personally I just felt like it lacked substance.

[waterdeepwife]

Hey! I love your writing!!!!! Could I request Gale getting fantasy equivalent of anesthesia and when Tav (his wife) tries to get him home/flirt with him he's like 'not interested I have a wife!!'. And idk just fluff and him being amazed that his partner is so hot lol.

My Wife?

Pairing: Gale x Fem! Reader

Warnings: kinda NSFW? drunk! Gale, Gale gets a turned on but no sex, takes place after events of the game, Reader/Tav is married to Gale, light hearted silliness in Waterdeep, typos, I think that’s it?

Summary: Gale had too much to drink and getting him back to the tower is proving a challenge.

A/n: I couldn’t think of the anesthesia equivalent, so I just made Gale drunk.

It had been a fun night at the Yawning Portal. Gale’s friends adored you and you all swapped stories of your adventures, you even heard some gossip about some of the students at Blackstaff. Unfortunately your husband had one too many glasses of wine, resulting in him becoming VERY drunk. You never seen like this before, normally the mage could handle his liquor fine. Now he slouched overall the bar, face red as he mumbled protested as his friends helped him to his feet.

You giggled and approached him, taking in his drunken state. Once you were close enough, you cupped his cheek to feel just how warm his face was. Gale’s eyes widen as you touched him, he flinched away putting up a dramatic hand in the air. Trying to stop you from touching him, then he wagged a finger at you, which made you and his friends laugh loudly.

“Nu-uh, I AM a married man! My wife… She will get upset if she sees you touching me like that...”

One of his coworkers wrapped an arm around Gale’s back to support him, but the wizard tried to wiggle away. Holding up his left hand and pointed to the golden band around his ring finger, a proud smile on his lips.

“See this? Taken! Sorry ladies AND GENTLEMEN!!”

The wizard yelled a little too loudly, causing other patrons to turn their attention to your small group. You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at the sudden attention on you. Your cheeks flush a bit as you quickly covered your husband’s mouth, to which he then tried to scream. The wizard’s friends continued to hold him up as they laughed, they couldn’t wait to make fun of him when he was sober.

“Gale! I am your wife!”

You whisper shouted as the wizard turned his attention to you, his brown eyes looked to the golden ring on your left hand, then began raking down your body. Admiring what he saw standing before he looked back into your eyes. You could have swore you saw him go even redder, a soft moan escaped his lips but was muffled by your hand.

You recognized the look in Gale’s eyes, and immediately glanced down noticing the obvious tent in his pants. Your eyes met again, your cheeks burning with blush as your husband gazed at you with a lovesick, yet lustful expression. You slowly removed your hand from his mouth, revealing a goofy smile. Gale wiggled free from his friends and threw his arms around you. He hugged you tight as he drunkly purred out;

“My wifeeee…”

You could only sigh and shake your head fondly, slowly guiding Gale out of the Yawning Portal as he mumbled incoherent declarations of love and desire. During the walk his hand trying to wander down to grab your ass a few times, whispering about you pretty you are. Which you would smack his hand away and cause the wizard to gasp and pout, until you got home.

Once inside you guided him to the couch in the sitting room, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get him up the stairs. Once he was lying down and covered with a blanket, Gale instantly rolled onto his belly and fell asleep. You laughed and crawled on top of him, snuggling into his back as you slowly began to drift asleep as well.

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he��

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[skyward-floored]

*crashes through the window*

HIII PEGGY

What was your favorite part of the update?? Favorite panel? And do you have any thoughts or predictions about Twilight’s fate?

Can I say all of it?? It was all so funny, I loved it sdhvdbdhdbsjg

Highlights that stood out to me though:

Legend being worried about Twilight, but having it come out as snippy comments towards Sky was *chefs kiss* And Twilight not appreciating it, and Legend immediately backing down was such an interesting view of the three of them!

Also Hyrule’s little remark basically implying he’s the only one who can handle Legend’s snark LOL

I appreciated the callback to the Bully comic too, with Twilight asking if Sky’s okay and everything, and Sky’s just like “oh yeah lol he’s fine”. And the RABBIT JOKE SDHDBDBDHDH

Sky’s expressions all over here are just brilliant I love them

Time’s little pep talk for Wild was nice, hopefully it’ll be encouraging for Wild 😬 Anyone else think it was kind of telling Warriors only said like one line the entire update? Anyone?

yeah.

Anyway it looks like Wild is feeling pretty upbeat (that or he’s nervous and hiding it by goofing off 🤔) since he’s being all silly. He could just be matching Twilight’s energy, but I guess time will tell. I bet he would’ve been perfectly fine if Twi had actually wanted to switch though XD

and I have to mention this whole bit SO FUNNY HAHAHBDHDGSBD I LOVE SEEING THEM GOOF OFF!!!

And... Time. Worrying. Still.

My man is so stressed :(

But honestly... I’m not all that worried about Twilight. I could see him perhaps pushing himself a little too hard and getting worn out, but he’s got Sky and the Master Sword, I really think he’ll be okay.

I’m more worried about the other groups, SOMEONE is going to get hurt. For sure. For certain. My bet is on either Wild and/or Warriors, or someone in Time’s group. That’s what I think.

[foreignjaykay]

company (a jungkook fic)

part one - "you wish i'd miss you,"

company - a jungkook fic

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about��to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, mean boss - yeah no she sucks, flirty!jk, dense af!jk, shy!oc, ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, yeah i guess thats it...for now hehe

notes: hello everyone!!! hehe its my first fic on tumblr and my first ever jk fic so i really hope you guys like it. im writing after so mant years so please ignore some mistakes. its kinda based on my experiences so yeah. its intentional whatever you are reading hauahahah, things will only get interesting as well progress.. lots of characters will come in the next chapter, this is just the base. It picks up from the second chapter!! anywho lets get into it!! <3

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

The first thing you saw when you unlocked your phone this morning was a text from Jungkook. That in itself was weird—he wasn’t the type to be up this early, let alone texting people.

jaykay (work) [8:50am]: hi :)

you [8:50am]: oh my god. what did you forget?

jaykay (work)  [8:51am]: have some faith in me. i was texting for something entirely different. 😒

you[8:51am]: are you sick? held hostage? blink twice if you need help.

jaykay (work) [8:52am]: how da hell are u so dramatic in the morning

you [8:52am]: come to the point jungkook

jaykay [8:52am]: fine. 🙄 don’t bring lunch today

you [8:53am]: why?

jaykay (work) [8:53am]: lunch is on me. taking you, shane and mingyu out for ramen

you [8:53am]: 🤨🤨🤨

jaykay (work) [8:54am]: see you in office🥰

You squinted at the screen, trying to process the words through your morning haze. This man barely made it to work before noon on most days, always breezing in with an iced americano and a sheepish grin. And yet here he was, awake and making lunch plans at 9 AM? Suspicious. Very suspicious.

It’s fixed, you know? Him being late to work, getting sarcastic remarks from the bosses - Natasha, the reporting manager (god did she love micromanaging the team) and Kim Song, the director of your company.

But whatever, free ramen was free ramen and, on that note, you finally woke up and went to get ready for the weird day that was ahead of you.

By the time you got to the office, the usual chaos had already begun. Natasha, wasn’t physically present today, thank the lord for that, you thought, but her presence loomed over Zoom calls like a dark cloud. You had barely set down her bag before her laptop screen lit up with an incoming call. Does this woman ever chill?

“Good morning, team,” Natasha’s clipped voice rang out as the screen loaded. “Let’s go over the deliverables for today.” Her screen was hidden and she was on a holiday like she had very explicitly mentioned the week before she left.

You suppressed a groan as you saw Jungkook and Mingyu joining the call too. Shane, their CS intern, looked half-asleep. Jungkook, though, was oddly quiet, his usual playful banter nowhere to be seen. His leg bounced under the desk, fingers drumming against the tabletop.

You shot him a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

Okay that was weird, wasn’t it?

You looked towards Mingyu and Shane to see if they noticed Jungkook being a little off today but to your surprise they were engrossed on what Natasha was instructing on the upcoming event which was the luxurious Cartier dinner.

Classic Natasha, putting her work on us while she sips on pina coladas on the beach after this 10-minute meeting. You wanted to be as carefree as her sometimes, how easily she just threw her tasks on others.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jungkook which thankfully he didn’t notice.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Jungkook knew you. He knew how curious you got sometimes and he also knew currently the wheels were turning in your head wondering why he was being so awkward. He smiled internally, thinking how much you knew him and how much he was going to miss you.

If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to crack. He just hoped you wouldn’t figure it out before he told you himself.

Once the meeting was over, you quickly went towards the design studio in the office, greeting Yuna and So-hee who seemed like had just come to office with the way they were switching on their systems for the day.

“I really need the final design renders for the stage setup and the seating plan for Cartier, Yuna,” You said worried knowing that if you don’t get these renders in next half an hour then the costing would delay and then Natasha…yeah no.

Its as if Jungkook got a sign, he entered the design studio greeting Yuna, So-hee, and Dae and standing next to you as if to ease the tension you had going on.

“Babe, give me 10 minutes, the renders are ready. I’ll email it to you, Natasha and Namjoon,” Yuna said as she started working on her system. You nodded your head and gave her a worried smile.

“Mark me in the email too,” Jungkook said instantly and you gave him a pointed look. Yuna seemed to mirror your thoughts and raised her eyebrows towards him.

Seeing that you both were confused, Jungkook chuckles and says, “__, you should be happy that I am willingly asking to be marked on emails,” which makes you roll your eyes playfully and smirk.

“Also, I don’t have nothing big going on currently, project wise, so I’ll follow up for the costings and Natasha will stay away from my ass,” Jungkook continues and laughs with Yuna, So-hee and Dae.

You looked at him as he was sort of back in his carefree self but something still felt off. You just couldn’t put your finger on what this feeling was.

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second Natasha’s second call for the day wrapped up the call, you shut your laptop and turned towards Jungkook who along with Mingyu and Shane was joking and was waiting for you to get done.

“Okay, spill. What’s with the mystery since today morning?” You immediately asked him and he couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

Mingyu slung an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, dude. You’re making me nervous.”

Shane, ever the observer, just raised a brow. “Is this about work? God I can’t wait to dig into some good ramen after hearing Natasha ramble since past 15 mins. 15 mins with her feel like 2 hours,” Shane continued rambling earning laughs from the three of you.

Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get to lunch first.”

That didn’t help your growing suspicion, but you let it slide—at least until the 4 of you reached the ramen place.

The aroma of rich broth and sizzling garlic filled the tiny ramen shop. Shane and Mingyu were already practically vibrating with hunger, menus discarded, ready to order. You, however, were still scanning the options, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. Just as you were about to decide, you and Jungkook spoke in unison: “Japchae.”

A surprised laugh bubbled up. “You wanna have japchae too?” you asked, a little thrill of connection sparking despite the weirdness of the morning. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, and ordered for both of you.

Minutes later, steaming bowls of ramen and the shared plate of japchae arrived. The savory scent made your mouth water. You took a tentative bite of the japchae, the noodles perfectly chewy, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. It was delicious. But Jungkook just sat there, chopsticks hovering over his bowl. He had a strange expression—not quite annoyed, but… something. You knew that look. It was his tell when food was exceptionally good. That’s just his weird trait.

You took the second bite yourself to see if it was and it was really good.

“I got another job.”

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

Then, Mingyu blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, avoiding their gazes. “I got an offer from an event company. They handle production for A-list musicians—concerts, world tours, all of it.” But you could see how proud he was. This was his dream.

“Oh, shit, that’s huge,” Shane said, eyes wide and dramatically keeping his chopsticks on the side.

Jungkook looked at you trying to gauge for your reaction.

You swallowed, gripping your chopsticks a little tighter. “Wow. That’s… incredible, Jungkook.” You said genuinely but why did it feel so off? Why did it feel like you were losing everything? People leave jobs all the time and this is no different, so why was it feeling all to different suddenly?

When you congratulated him, you meant it. You really did. He deserved this. But there was a weird, hollow feeling in your chest. Something tight that you couldn’t quite name.

Jungkook was watching you and asked, “You okay?”

You forced a smile but to everyone it looked genuine. “Of course. This is a big deal. I am so happy for you, Jungkook!” Mingyu and Shane mirrored your smile and congratulated him to which Jungkook threw an honest smile.

His eyes still lingered for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to his food. But you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.

Mingyu and Shane immediately started asking him the questions about his new company and the new job and Jungkook excitedly answered them all and you were interested too to know all the details.

Once the 4 of you were done with the lunch, you asked him, “So when are you telling Natasha?”

“Next week, and then 2 weeks’ notice,” He said looking at you as if he was trying to find an emotion out of you.

“Damn bro, you are leaving us so soon.” Shane said and you looked at Jungkook.

“Now at least I will have some proper desk space at the office,” You tried to joke which earned you a playful eye roll from Jungkook.

“Oh my god, I have to plan a farewell party for you now,” Mingyu joked and you laughed. For the whole lunch, this is the first time Jungkook noticed you genuinely smiling and it was all thanks to Mingyu’s dramatic nature.

The rest of the workday felt strangely off-balance. Even though nothing had technically changed yet, you felt the weight of the upcoming shift pressing down on you. The knowledge that soon, Jungkook wouldn’t be here anymore—wouldn’t be there to roll his eyes at Natasha’s ridiculous demands, wouldn’t be crashing at her desk with an iced coffee and a new piece of gossip, wouldn’t be around to share those unspoken glances when things got too absurd.

You had started hating how much that realization unsettled you.

It was Jungkook who got you out of your dazed thoughts when he said, “___, I have asked Namjoon hyung for the Cartier costing and he is working on it,”

You threw a sincere smile towards him and nodded while he went back on his desk and worked on some small projects he had going on.

gyu (work) [3pm]: are you okay?

Once you read the text, you immediately looked at him but he acted to be so engrossed in his work and you couldn’t help but look back into your phone and text back

you [3:01pm]: yeah, why?

gyu (work) [3:01pm]: you sure about that? ever since jk dropped that bomb, you have been quiet and so has he.

That got your attention. Were you that obvious?

you [3:02pm]: no nothing like that. im happy that he got this. he deserves it!! also when is the blue label bottle engraving costing going to the client? natasha has been on my ass about it since morning. send it asap please <33

gyu [3:03pm]: girl i gotta give it to you, nice attempt to change the convo but we aren’t done yet. ugh why are you my senior? im sending it in 5

By the time the day ended and finally the costings for Cartier had gone out (thanks to Jungkook and Joon), you had convinced yourself you were just being dramatic. People left jobs all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Mingyu and Shane had already left for the day and the design studio was also empty leaving only you and Jungkook in the client servicing department. For a Monday, people had left earlier than usual, you thought to yourself.

You looked at the clock and saw it was 7pm already.

While you packed your bags, like routine, Jungkook waited for you. He dropped you home everyday given that you both lived nearby and your apartment came on the way to his.

However, the silence between the two of you felt heavier than usual.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said as the two of you entered the elevator.

You forced a laugh and adjusted your purse, trying to look anywhere but at him. “So are you.”

The two of you exited the elevator and sat in his car, he started the engine. For the first time ever, the silence between the two of you was uncomfortable.

Jungkook sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the familiar route and said, “Are you really happy for me?”

You immediately turned to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Yes, I am. Why would you think I am not?”

His smile was small, a little sad. “Alright. You and I haven’t spoken much since lunch,”

You didn’t know why, but something in your chest ached at that. But you ignored it,  and looking towards and giving him a smile and said, “Jungkook, I am so happy for you. I am. I know you wanted this and now you have it,”

For the first time in the whole day, he smiled genuinely at you.

“Will you miss me?,” He asked as he stopped the car right out of your apartment and looked at you with his doe eyes that carry the sta-

Wait what?!

You ignored whatever that thought was and quickly composed yourself and laughed at him. “You wish I would miss you,” You joked playfully and he rolled his eyes.

“On a serious note, yes I will. Who will I tolerate Natasha with?” You continued and he let out a small chuckle.

“Anyway I have to go. See you tomorrow boss,” you finally said, and then you were gone, disappearing into the building.

Jungkook sat there for a moment, staring after you.

He knew you better than you thought. He knew when you were genuinely happy, when you were just pretending, when you were holding back something you didn’t want to say. And tonight, you were definitely holding back.

Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the car seat. Leaving this job was supposed to be exciting, a step up, an opportunity of a lifetime. And it was.

But why did it feel like he was losing something, too?

© foreignjaykay

[simpingforbots]

hiiii i hope you're fine,I'm really intrigued to know what the tfone transformers think about their silly human being in the sun for a few hours and getting burned, like.

The human is on his robot's shoulder, but from one moment to the next he turns his head to see the little friend and they see that his color has changed a little.

personally because I burned a lot this summer.

(I'm sorry if something is written wrong, English is my second language, I love how you write)

Hello! I am doing alright, hope you are doing fine your self. I knwo the feeling as i burn quickly as well and i know how it is to deal with it.

Sun or no sun?

Leaving underground is not much of a trouble to creatures that made out of metal as they do not require sunlight to function, but something that is organic - it was one of a few necessities just to be able to function properly. First time Orion found out about it, he panicked and kept thinking that he was hurting you by keeping here, with him. It was already dangerous for you to be in mines, let alone surrounded by someone who’s bigger and harder then you. Hell, he even considered to give you up to some reach snob so that you be safer, but the idea of you being in hands of someone like them made his spark churn with disgust and D-16 quickly shut it down, not wanting to even hear Orion’s worries. So to “subsidise” the lost light you needed, he did a little research and got you a small fake sun light lamp, that sort of provided necessary “D” vitamin. On top of that he made sure to get other supplements and that you took them daily. You such a weird little thing, needing so much just to be able to function, and yet they still cared about you very much, no matter how hard taking care of you can be.

When they managed to get up on the surface and survive the train crash with only few scrapes and bruises, you were finally on the surface. D-16 and Orion wath you run around for a bit, enjoying the life of the surface no longer confound to you small den and the limited places they could take you, able to move freely and breath without trouble before Orion picked you up and steeled on your shoulder before continuing on their journey for the Matrix of Leadership, pondering out loud about what will happen afterward. You seamed to also enjoy your natural sunlight, leaning back a bit, not worrying about anything and letting warm sun light land on your skin. At first they did not notise anything, but after some time B-126 was first to see the change in your skin colour.

“Hey, is your little organic pet thing always able to change colour?! This is so COOL? How are they doing it? Can they be yellow? I thingk yellow will look good on them! Can they change their eyes to? What bout the strange thing on their head?” Bee waltz in front of Orion, his eyes glowing with curiosity as he pointed at you. Scared, D-16 quickly grabbed you and held in fron of him self, staring at you and trying not to panic. Your skin was a bit darker, lightly, but noticeable when your little fabric on your body shifted, showing a lighter tone line.

“Is this normal?” Orion asked, looking at you as well, moving your hair away from your shoulders to able to see a strange condition that you seamed to be indifferent to.

“Do I look like I know?” D-16 grumbled a bit, lifting your little hand to see anything else. “Maybe it’s normal for them. But I think we should hurry up”

And back on the shoulder you go, this time under carful surveillance of your “caretaker” bots, who seemed to be warry and did their best to shield you from to much light, but they can only do this much. Sending entire day in direct sun, with no protection, caused your skin to became red and by the night fall you seamed to be going in and out of conciseness. The trouble did not end here as the very next day you were letting chirps of distress and any touch, even light one, caused you a lot of pain and a strange bubbles that appeared on your body to pop, leaking some kind of coolant. D-16 got very concerned with this, trying to carry you while shielding from the light, refusing to let you rest on his shoulder now, grimacing every time you shifted, making your self hurt even more. Orion tried to brain storm what could be causing this yet he can only guess as he did not had access to any research and only hope is that you can push through, with only breaks coming at nights and cold air cooling you a bit. When they reached the green area of the planet, hiding beneath the shade of huge trees, you seemed to relax even more and it was decided to have a little break. B-126 tried to play with you, yet you were in to much pain to even move on your won, just wanting nothing but rest and try get better. D-16 could see it and had to shoo B away so that you can rest all while Orion disappeared off to somewhere, babbling about trying to find somrhitng he read in archives, promising and praying to Primes that he is correct. Another whimpered escaped your little body as you shifted, wrapping your self in the fabric you had on your body, shivering and letting another pained moan. Grumbling to him self, D-16 tried not to move you to much. You are so small and fragile, it’s a miracle that you were able to survive on your own planet. The thunder on the gorund signalled that Orion found what ever he was looking for, quickly kneeling down showing his findings – some water and a leaf that leaked a lot.

“It will help them. I remember reading that organics need liquids to be able to function. Back at Iacon we had enough of it, but not here. I hope this helps” he mumbled on, breaking the leaf even more and lifting your covers to smother the sticky substance al over the red areas. D-16 shuddered at the feeling of it on his servo alone, yet seeing you relax a bit and no longer in much pain, decided to suck it up. Orion quckly finished up, tossing the leaf aside and brought another leaf with water in it to you, slowly making you drink it, with two bots making sure that you will make it and you will be alright, finally letting two bots pet you.

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Seven

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 3715 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. Lots of cursing, talk of sex toys, and a bj.

a/n: This chapter features a prompt from @yxtkiwiyxt's Never Have I Ever challenge. The prompt was Never have I ever been to an adult store. I've added a little bit of context to the beginning of this chapter so it can conceivably be read as a standalone, but just makes more sense if reading the larger story. Hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Seven

Now that Dave had a taste, he was quickly becoming addicted to you. He couldn’t stay away, sneaking down to the basement to spend time with you after Lisa went to bed, coming and going from his office more often than usual, using the private entrance from the garage to enter the house rather than the main entrance. Anything and everything he did was designed to set eyes – or hands – on you more frequently.

However, in front of your mom, he still played the role of faithful, if not loving spouse. It pained him more each day to do so, but he had to be to maintain appearances. There was still too much at stake.

He didn’t miss the pained look that crossed your face sometimes when you’d come up to the kitchen in the mornings to find him seated at the table with your mom and the girls like the perfect little family. Or when Lisa would put her hands on him, trying to snuggle into his side or putting her head on his shoulder while he sat on the couch. It never lasted long, that look on your face or the touches from Lisa since he always pulled away, but the effects lingered.

It hurt Dave for you to see those things, the look on your face, when you did, tore at his heart, knowing how you felt. It was a necessary evil, though, and he convinced himself it was okay because you never asked any questions about his marriage to your mom. You avoided the topic altogether, which suited Dave just fine. He couldn’t have told you the truth anyway. Not yet.

Christmas was particularly difficult, Lisa making a big fuss over him to the point he thought she was putting on a show to make you uncomfortable. All it did was make Dave really uncomfortable. He spoiled the girls, getting them everything on their wish lists and then some. His gifts to your mom were practical and simple, much to her disappointment. He knew you heard their raised voices later that day as she reamed him for the thoughtless gifts.

Dave didn’t give a shit. His mind was focused on you, on making sure the gifts he gave you were perfect. He had two sets – one consisting of candles to give in front of Lisa and the girls and the real, special one to give you in private. He gave you his heart on a string, basically – a necklace with a heart-shaped diamond, which you loved.

Still, he felt like it wasn’t enough, not for what you meant to him, for the ever-deepening feelings he had for you.

That’s why he doted on you whenever he could, playing any silly game you insisted on while sharing a bottle of wine or mimosas on the basement couch after your mom and the girls were asleep. Tonight, for example, the two of you sat facing each other on the cushy furniture, eyes glassy with laughter and a bit of a buzz from the delicious mimosas in your hands, as you declared the latest game.

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

Dave groaned, but he couldn’t deny you, not with how cute and happy you looked, sitting cross-legged on the couch, torso leaning back against the armrest with a half-full glass in your hand. You were incandescent in that moment, smile brighter than the full moon outside, and Dave could do nothing but grin back at you.

“Fine,” he caved, mind whirring for the most salacious topic he could think of. He wanted to make you squirm, but he needed a moment to come up with something. “You first.”

One finger tapping against your pretty lips, you hummed in thought. Smile widening across your face, eyebrows raising excitedly, you settled on something. “Never have I ever… gone to an adult store.”

Dave’s brow shot upwards, surprised by that confession. He had, several times, and took a sip of the bubbling citrusy cocktail, his eyes never leaving yours. Despite his surprise, your question led him to one of his own, something he was certain you wouldn’t have done. Not if you’d never even visited an adult store.

Leaning forward eagerly, you watched his throat bob as he swallowed, pupils dilating prettily. Tempted as he was to kiss you right then, Dave eyed you smugly instead, awaiting your reaction to what he was about to say. “Never have I ever… used a vibrating cock ring.”

Your mouth dropped open comically as you stared wide-eyed at him, causing Dave to chuckle darkly. Fuck, how he’d like to try one out with you. He nearly choked when you gathered yourself and took a sip of your mimosa, sending a cheeky wink at him.

“Wait, what?” His brain could not compute.

Giggling at his reaction, you shrugged. “What? I may have never set foot in an adult store, but I’ve tried a toy or two before.”

“Fuck,” Dave breathed, a surge of unexpected jealousy sweeping through him at the thought of you trying out toys with any other man.

“Color me surprised you’ve never used one,” you teased. “A man of your experience?”

A crease formed between his eyes as he pouted at you. “Are you implying that I’m old?”

Again, you giggled, the sound warming his insides. He loved making you laugh. “No! I just thought with two marriages under your belt, you’d probably done a lot, tried all the toys, or whatever.”

Dave couldn’t help the frown that made its home on his face, torn between wanting to tell you everything and nothing at all about those marriages. You softened at the sight, reaching across the space between you to caress the line between his brows. “I’m not judging, promise. I’m just surprised. Your cock would look amazing with one wrapped around the base.”

He couldn’t speak with that visual in his head, the blood flowing south stole his ability to form words, and you added in a suddenly shy voice, “Maybe we could go to the store and pick one out to try together?”

Fuck, he loved that idea. Visions of the two of you choosing sex toys together, and then going home to try them out washed over him, taking over every thought in his head. His cock, already half hard from the pleasant buzz of champagne and his proximity to you, was fully hard now, pushing against the confines of his boxer briefs.

Your eyes, wide and full of salacious thoughts of your own, darted downwards to take in the bulge in his sweatpants becoming ever more visible. The tip of your pink tongue darted out, gliding against your bottom lip as you stared, and Dave felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

The electricity between you sparked, but he wasn’t quite ready to give into it yet – the build-up was as fun as the grand finale.

“What else have you never tried?” Dave asked, his voice deep and raspy, cutting the air like lightning.

Arousal was clear in your gaze as you bit your bottom lip in thought. “I’ve always wanted to wake up to someone balls deep inside me. Like, when I’m lying on my stomach, you know?”

“Holy fuck,” Dave muttered. The need, the want, became too much and he yanked you closer until you sat in his lap. Playful conversation turned to kissing and before either of you knew it, you slid to the floor and were on your knees for him.

You gave him the blow job of a lifetime that night. He never spurted that much cum before – so much it filled your mouth and dribbled over your chin. The sight of you with his cum on your beautiful face caused two more ropes to spill from his cock, painting your chest as you leaned back to swallow and catch your breath.

He fell harder in love with you as you stared up at him all blissful and doe-eyed while still on your knees for him.

“Honey?” your mom called as she walked through the front door. The way her voice simpered, you knew she was calling for Dave, not you. She’d been switching back and forth from ignoring your presence to nagging the hell out of you lately. You preferred the former, for obvious reasons.

He grimaced, glancing at you from his spot at the breakfast bar while you helped Alice and Molly with a puzzle on the dining table. With a sigh, he called back, “Yeah?”

Entering the room with a broad smile and a card in her hand, she sidled up to her husband. “Roger and Mary invited us to a last-minute New Year’s Eve party at their house tonight.” Her long, red nails scratched down his back, catching in the fabric of his shirt and you turned away with an uncomfortable shudder. “They invited all of us, though I suspect it will be only you and me by midnight. You wouldn’t want the girls staying out that late.”

She looked at you then, flashing a knowing smirk. “Since you’re obviously not doing anything tonight, you can keep an eye on the girls at the party and bring them home early so Dave and I can enjoy ourselves.”

“Lisa,” Dave sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not necess—"

You cut him off, your hackles up from your mom’s attitude. “Excuse me?”  She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point. Of course, you would watch them, for Dave’s sake, not your mother’s. But would it kill the bitch to ask instead of assuming?

Looking at you like you were an idiot, your mom spoke slowly, obnoxiously, as she approached the table. “The girls. Alice and Molly, do you remember them?” She gestured toward the wide-eyed little girls like you weren’t sitting right fucking next to them. “You’ll make sure they don’t get into trouble at the party while Dave and I are busy socializing.”

You wanted to slap her smug face but you swallowed the violent urge and settled on irritation instead. “Right, because I clearly have no life outside of this house.”

Lisa smirked again, patting your cheek like you were a fucking child. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Sometimes you fucking hated that woman. The things you would say if the girls weren’t sitting right there watching everything unfold.

Dave’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze soft as he jumped in to distract your mother so you could calm down from the rage building inside you. Your mom reached for new levels of bitchiness each day.

“I doubt I’ll make it to midnight myself,” he said. “I’ll probably go home when they do.”

Your mom pouted at that, and you tuned them out as it turned into a hushed argument. In fact, you avoided your mother altogether for the rest of the day, choosing to keep the girls entertained until it was time to get ready for the party. You helped them put on the cute dresses their maternal grandparents gave them for Christmas, curling their hair and sweeping the lightest dusting of powder on their sweet faces because they wanted to look pretty like you.

“See? Just a little glow and you both look like beautiful princesses going to the ball,” you said, smiling as they admired themselves in the mirror.

“This is so cool,” Alice said, turning her head from side to side.

Molly grinned. “We look just like you.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you kissed the tops of their heads, careful not to mess up their hair. Goodness, you loved these girls.

You were quick with your own preparations, adding a little curl to your hair and understated makeup to your face. Opting for simplicity, you went with the trusted little black dress that had seen you through most major events in your adulthood. You were just digging out a pair of heels to wear with it when Dave appeared in your doorway, decked out in a slate gray suit with a dark blue tie, hair swept back off his forehead and a brightness shining in his eyes at the sight of you.

“You look beautiful,” he said in a low, soft voice as he stepped into the room. One large hand brushed down the fabric of your dress, following the curves of your body, and he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead.

“You look rather dashing yourself, Mister.” Your eyelids fluttered shut at the press of his lips against your skin. A little sigh slipped past your glossy lips as you breathed in the rich scent of his cologne.

Dave’s eyes searched yours as he stepped back. “I wanted to talk to you before we head to the party.”

“Ok,” you replied, a hint of worry in your voice as you sat on the edge of your bed. Dave followed, sitting next to you and slipping a hand into your lap to tangle his fingers with yours.

“It’s nothing bad, Firecracker,” he smiled. “It’s just…”

“It’s just the first time we’ll be in public together since things… changed between us.”

His eyes softened, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter. “Exactly. We’ll need to be careful, especially in front of Roger. He’s… not a man whose attention I want on you.”

“Why is that?” you asked, brows furrowed curiously. “Is he a criminal or something? Wait, are you investigating him?”

Dave shook his head, his smile faltering a bit. “I can’t tell you that. Just stay away from him, okay? Anna – the woman from that day in the café – stay clear of her, too. Please.”

You nodded, looking away and muttering, “Of course.” A tug on your hand drew your eyes back to his, and he leaned over to softly kiss your mouth. A hint of your lip gloss lingered on his lips when he pulled back with a grin. The sight broke the tension, and you chuckled, wiping away the evidence with your thumb.

“I wish I could walk into that party holding your hand, not hers,” Dave offered sincerely, lifting your hand to kiss each of your knuckles.

“Me, too.” After a beat, you added, “Maybe someday.”

Dave looked at you with such a soft, hopeful look before leaving the room, it left you with an aching, jealous heart.

This night was going to be torture, you thought.

And it was.

Roger’s house was alive with music and laughter, champagne flutes clinking as guests milled about in glittering attire. The girls ran ahead, already excited by the sight of a variety of desserts laid out in the dining room.

Your mom wasted no time draping herself around Dave, greeting Roger and his wife with an air of effortless charm. You kept to the sidelines, watching, observing with one eye always on the girls.

Seeing your mom and Dave together like this, smiling at each other as they worked the room, his arm around her small waist, the occasional kiss to his cheek from her garishly red lips. All of it fucking sucked to watch and you questioned why you even bothered to come to this party with them in the first place.

A huge part of you ached to bolt, take the girls, and leave the party without any explanation. Observing your mom tangle her fingers in that same shock of hair at the base of Dave’s neck that you liked to play with had you taking a step toward the door.

And then, you felt it.

Dave’s gaze.

It burned into you with a longing so strong your skin prickled with goosebumps. You decided to stay put just so he’d keep looking at you like that.

And he did.

Every time you turned, you caught him looking, his soulful eyes saying everything. He checked on the girls frequently, but his eyes always found you, no matter where you were in the room.

If not for those shared glances, the subtle winks at you, and the quirk of his lips when your gazes locked, you would be dying inside.

You were getting another glass of wine from the bartender the Grants hired for the evening when you spotted a vaguely familiar face approaching your mom and Dave.

It was Anna, the woman you saw in the café with Dave. The one he told you to stay away from.

Her eyes cataloged your mom and Dave with interest, a smirk playing at her lips. She joined the small group they were talking to, stepping too close to Dave for your comfort. Fingernails dancing up his suit jacket, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

He froze at whatever she said, and a frown marred your brow as your gut twisted.

Torture. This night was nothing but fucking torture.

Suddenly, a presence loomed too close beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You turned to find Roger, his grin lazy, beady eyes scanning you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“It’s a lovely party,” you replied politely, stepping back to create distance between you. Roger quickly closed the space.

“You must be Lisa’s daughter. We haven’t had a chance to officially meet yet. You’re always so occupied… They keep you busy over there.”

You tensed, glancing across the room, but Dave was nowhere in sight.

Roger reached for a stray lock of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You know, I see now why Dave keeps you hidden away. If I had someone like you around…”

You jerked back, heart pounding. You did not like where that observation was heading, but a deep, stern voice interrupted the uncomfortable moment before you could react further.

“Roger.” Dave’s voice was ice.

Roger turned, all casual charm, but the flicker of unease in his eyes met Dave’s was unmistakable. He must know what Dave was capable of. “Relax, York. We’re just making conversation. You certainly have your hands full being surrounded by such beautiful women.”

Dave’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Find someone else to make conversation with.”

For a long moment, Roger seemed like he might push back just to be an ass. But whatever he saw in Dave’s expression made him reconsider any further remarks. With a smirk, he raised his hands in mock surrender and disappeared back into the crowd of partygoers.

Dave turned to you, his breath heavy, his eyes burning with something unreadable. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands trembled slightly. That man gave you the creeps even without Dave’s earlier warning. “I—yeah. I just…”

He exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I told you to stay away from him.”

You bristled. “I didn’t exactly seek him out, David.”

He sighed, tension rippling through his body. He reached out, hesitated as if remembering where you two were, then let his hand drop. “Just… stay close to the girls and away from everyone else, okay?”

“So, I’m just supposed to babysit and not speak to anyone?” How un-fucking-fair was that?

“Pretty much,” he replied without remorse.

You wanted to push back, to demand that he stop treating you like a fucking child, but your mom appeared before you could respond. Slipping her arm around Dave’s waist, kissing his cheek before turning to you with a sickly sweet smile. His dark eyes remained on you the whole time. “I hope you’re not causing trouble.”

Forcing a tight smile, you snapped, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” before striding away. Both of them could just fuck right off. You were so fucking sick of this party.

He tried to keep his eyes off you knowing what was at stake. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down with this crowd, so he tried. He really fucking tried. And completely failed.

You were breathtaking in that dress. The way it hugged your curves, showcasing the best parts of your body, made his heart thump heavily in his chest. You were his dream woman. How was he supposed to pretend you didn’t exist?

So, he chanced glances more often than he should have. He winked and smiled at you, knowing how hard it was to see him with his arm around your mom. He longed to be by your side instead of hers.

And that smug bastard Roger noticed the looks. Dave knew it was entirely his fault the man approached you. He practically lit a beacon drawing the man’s attention to you with each look. So much for being subtle.

You had Dave York twisted up inside and made him forget the most basic rules of subterfuge.

He intervened when he saw Roger speaking to you and kept an eye on you and the girls until you said goodnight and took them home. When he took a breather out on the patio after you said goodnight, Anna cornered him.

“Roger told me about your sweet little stepdaughter. Tell me, is she your plaything? Is that why you keep turning me down? I know it damn well isn’t your wife, so she must be the reason.”

Dave’s expression darkened. He dealt with enough of Anna’s over-the-top sex kitten act for the job, he didn’t have the patience for it tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Anna smirked, twirling the glass of champagne in her hand before taking a long, drawn-out sip. “Oh, relax. I’m just saying… you must enjoy having something to grab onto. She’s a little… thick in places. Sizeable ass.”

“Anna,” Dave snapped, his voice full of warning as his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Anna merely chuckled. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, handsome. I’m just teasing.”

“Enough. Contact me when you have something business-related to talk about. Otherwise, leave me alone.” He had enough. Striding back into the house, he deposited his empty glass on a random table and left the party without saying goodbye to anyone, including Lisa. She was too busy paying court to a room full of admirers and he’d had enough of her shit tonight, too.

As Dave walked across the street and back to his home, his phone buzzed, and he hoped it was from you. When he pulled the phone from the inside pocket of his blazer, the message on the screen made his blood run cold.

Unknown Number: I know what you’re hiding.

tbc

Chapter Eight

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk

[these-detestable-hands]

It's been a bit since I've interacted with octopath so my stuff on these ships may be a little rusty but I'll argue for them anyway.

Castitio (Castti x Partitio)

Before the game even came out, I thought they'd be a silly couple. Lady who doesn't remember and guy bursting at the seems with kindness. I think they're got a neat dynamic, with Castti teasing him a bit but they get along and are friends. Some post canon hcs I have are that Partitio would help Castti set up an organization that produces medicine and teaches about it cause he loves her and he's got the funding anyway. Also I do think being exposed to the poison rain twice did stuff to Castti so I like to hc she's disabled post canon, being a wheelchair user due to muscle weakness, having very little lung capacity and CPTSD. Also not a disability but she has eczema-like purple splotches on her body. Sorry I needed an excuse to quickly mention my disabled Castti headcanons. While they're engaged, Partitio and Floyd work on completely renovating a house to accommodate all of Castti's needs, so like low counters she can reach while on her wheelchair, only one floor, wide doorways, blackout curtains so she can sleep during the day, etc. Castti keeps insisting that she doesn't need that much help and that she's navigating normal houses just fine but then she'd see all the accommodations in their new house and bawl for hours. She'd work less and take it easy post canon. Listen I just think they'd be a really cute couple. Castti patches up your broken arm then her husband comes in and starts cracking jokes and talking about affordable public transportation. I feel like I'm also forgetting a lot of stuff but oh well. I've got a few fics for them posted on ao3, account name: BigOrangeOnion

Ophikari (Ophilia x Hikari) (I also call them The Radiance (hollow knight reference and it makes sense for an au))

OKAY SO this ship started out as an au when the ot1 travelers were added to ot2 for that update last year. Basically, post canon, Hikari visits the arena whenever he's in Montwise. This time, he goes and there's some omega powerful warriors fighting ruthlessly and with no concern for themselves. He realizes it's because they've got some kinda of curse, similar to him with the shadow (I THINK that's what it was called).

So Hikari starts working on figuring out how to free them because their current existence seems miserable. The first he manages to free is Ophilia, by using light magic near her. The light magic makes her briefly remember who she was but it's enough for her to snap out of the mind control that she's been put under. She talks to Hikari and explains that her and her friends were mind controlled by a very weak but not quite dead Galdera, in attempts to conquer and gain more power so he could heal himself faster. So the two of them start working on freeing the other travelers together.

Along the way, they ofc fall in love. I don't remember an awful lot about them unfortunately but I implore anyone reading this to write stuff for them :]

Here's a little drawing I did of them together. I'd include Castitio drawings if I had any but I am not big on drawing ship art unfortunately.

H'aanit x Cyrus x Castti (in a QPR!!! :3)

So this is probably the one I've explored the least purely because I never really shared it with anyone. I keep it to myself because of the amount of hyper specific and sad headcanons. But basically it was an au where I'd just mix and match travelers n stuff. Like just putting different travelers in different continents with weird team compositions cause I'm a big fan of aus and crossovers.

One of the ones I liked the most is where Castti leaves Solistia by herself to explore post canon because she's not very close with the other travelers and self isolates a little. This au starts out kinda sad cause of the focus on my hcs for various characters' mental illnesses. H'aanit is initially traveling alone but Castti joins her and they're a relatively quiet but very effective and productive duo. Later, Cyrus, Olberic, Primrose and Ophilia join. They all have their problems to work through and get through them together.

Castti has to deal with self worth and realizing that she's more than just the team healer.

H'aanit has always had anxiety around losing Z'aanta, which is really bad throughout the entire story so Castti often ends up calming her down during panic attacks and they get really close because of the mutual trust there.

Idk exactly how to describe Cyrus' problems but he's really jumpy and nervous and a little bit angry all the time because of being accused of, y' know, sleeping with a student. Yeah no I never understood why Cyrus wasn't that angry about it, even when I first played the game at age 10.

I think Cyrus is just dealing with the new found rage he constantly has. He had anger management issues as a kid but worked through them and they're just now coming back cause he's been thrown out of his home and people he used to be friends with think the worst of him and he's got no one but this new friend group he hardly knows. You get it.

The story is the three of them (and Olberic, Ophilia and Prim, but this post is about ships so I'll talk about them another time) as they deal with their mental health issues. Through helping each other with these very personal problems, they become very close and eventually decide to be in a qpr together. I think they'd just live relatively quiet lives in S'warkii cause Cyrus is too upset to return to Atlasdam and Castti isn't too keen on going back to Solistia after falling head over heels in love with two people in Osterra.

I don't remember way too much for this au unfortunately. I think they should all cuddle and finally get a good night's sleep for once cause no way a single one of those bitches sleeps well with the crap they see and have experienced.

Sorry I wrote so much. Here is a little drawing based on an Olberic chapter 2 travel banter and the most important H'aanit fact.

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!