#like its the same set of clothes and colors but each of them would be slightly different yknow

[dailydegurechaff]

Today's Daily Degurechaff is… sometimes I wish isekai quartet put them in cute uniforms

[eowynstwin]

imprimatura

muses - part one - next

Pairing: (eventual) Ghoap x f!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Rating: Mature (mostly Soap being Soap) Also on Ao3.

An artist meets her muse, and a solider meets his.

He arrives early as you’re setting up for your students, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and the first thing that crosses your mind when you lay eyes on him is Jesus, he’s fit. 

You are no stranger to bodies. Hundreds of them have cycled through your studio, all shapes and sizes and colors; you think you may know every dip, every roll, every hard angle and soft curve that a human body is capable of holding. The mystique of defined muscle has long lost its novelty. Bodies are bodies, and each holds the same value as the next when subject to brush and canvas. It never matters, you teach your students, what a body looks like in the modeling chair. It only matters if they can reproduce it accurately.

Even so, when a body like this walks in, you really can’t help but take notice.

Decadent muscle, fed and worked well, round and full with hydration. It’s impossible to miss, even through his clothes; each group delineated clearly, gracefully, as if sculpted rather than built, and alive with soft, subcutaneous movement. It’s indulgent to look at, the comfortable breadth of his shoulders and chest down to that slight taper of his waist and bulk of his thick thighs. It’s a physique no hard-bodied gym rat could hope to achieve merely with extra time at the racks—a physique that is easily, harmoniously attractive in its makeup of muscle and healthy fat.

The man is also mohawked and suntanned, and his mouth rests at an angle that suggests he often smiles—as if he knows that Michelangelo would have swooned at the sight of him. He comes into your classroom, saunters over to you, and stops precisely two paces away from you.

“Sergeant John MacTavish,” he says, offering his hand. “I understand you’re the instructor?”

He has gorgeous, vivid blue eyes (pthalo and cremnitz, with a touch of hamsa). You blink several times. Fit is still rattling around your skull, and begins knocking against sergeant at the same rolling frequency as his warm Scottish brogue. You realize his hand is still outstretched and quickly take it to shake.

“Yes!” you say. His palm is tough, callused, and not soft in the slightest, but very warm. “Nice to meet you, sergeant.”

He gives a grimace. “John’s fine. Or Soap.”

“Soap?”

“Nickname, y’know.”

Neither of you have released from the handshake. Soap’s grip is firm, the kind of firm that suggests he can squeeze much, much tighter if he needs to. And if the grip isn’t any indication, the broad forearms, dusted soft with dark brown hair, certainly are.

Black lines, a sword and helmet framed in laurels, catch your notice. The ink has the soft edges of having lain in the skin for a few years. You turn his arm to see it more fully. “Oh. Nice tattoo.”

He looks at the ink as if it is entirely new to him, and then gives an easy grin. “Thanks. I’ve got a few more too. Hope they aren’t hard to draw.”

When you loosen your grip on his hand, he releases you immediately. You still feel the squeeze in your bones even as you drop your hand to your side.

“So, then, Soap,” you say, “have you ever modeled before?”

He shakes his head, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans. It tugs the waistband just a bit, revealing a sliver of warm, tan skin (raw sienna, flesh ochre, naples yellow). “Should have, honestly, with how much it pays.”

“It gets very boring, very fast,” you say. “What do you plan to wear for the breaks?”

“Was I supposed to bring that m’self?”

You are unable to suppress a laugh. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and going a little sheepish—as if expecting a reprimand. You suppose it’s a valid expectation to have, in his world. You aren’t terribly familiar with the military, but you do know it’s one hell of a stickler for rules.

You also can’t help but admire the appealing pull and stretch of his bicep and deltoid, the flex of his pectoral as he lowers his arm. 

“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go see if I can find something for you?” you suggest kindly, letting him off the hook.

“Sorry,” he says, pretty blue eyes filled with genuine apology. “I’ll remember nex’ time. Thanks.”

The expression is so hangdog that you almost want to pat his head and noise at him reassuringly, like an actual dog. You press your lips together to hide a smile, and leave the studio.

When you get back from the models’ changing room, you find Soap with one hip against the counter where you’d been organizing your supplies, one knee loose and shoulders set at a relaxed angle. You want to laugh at his easy contrapposto. He’s going to be an excellent model. You can feel it. 

It looks as if he’s moving around the sticks of vine charcoal with one outstretched finger; he pulls his hand guiltily away when you reenter the studio, crossing his arms over his chest as if to hide the evidence of his snooping. It makes his pectorals bunch and round out, gathers the thickness of his biceps up into chiseled, full definition.

You lift one brow at him as you walk over.

“Never could keep my hands to m’self,” he admits, still sheepish.

“It’s alright,” you allow, smiling back. “Do you draw?”

“Used to,” he says. He looks back at the charcoal. “No time, now.”

“Are you deployed often?” you ask, taking the opportunity to look at his face. 

Beauty is cheap in art, but you notice it all the same—appreciate the strong brows, the hard angle of his jaw, the dark stubble of a beard you suspect he can’t keep shaved down, and the long scar that cuts through it across his chin. The light brown of his complexion is speckled with sun exposure, and there are the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, which you expect will deepen into genuine, gorgeous crow’s feet as he ages.

He’s not all rugged, though. There is a soft, thick curl to his lashes, which are as dark as strong coffee or expensive chocolate, and an equal decadence to the pink, plush little swell of his bottom lip—which, in the very middle, has the smallest of divots, as if he regularly spends time biting it. 

They’re traits that are far too sweet to belong on an otherwise masculine face, and their effect is such that they turn an objectively average set of features into a shockingly attractive portrait—that suddenly has something fluttering, just a bit, in the roof of your stomach.

He looks at you, and catches your survey. You can see him realize you’d been watching, the knowledge of it blooming in ocean blue eyes like ink dropped onto linen.

“More often than no’,” he answers, showing teeth in a crooked, interested grin. And now he’s looking at you—attention flitting across your face, dropping down your body and jumping back up to meet your gaze. The creases deepen at the corners of his eyes.

The fluttering intensifies. The sudden role reversal has you feeling at once flustered and unmoored. You are never the subject of any perusal—always comfortably the observer.

“Well—” you try, and you’re embarrassed at the low tone of your voice. You clear your throat. “Well, let’s make use of the time we have you, then.”

His smile remains, cocksure and easy. “Let’s.” 

He knows the effect he’s had.

“Anyway,” you say, blinking several times and proffering the sheet you’d retrieved, “none of the other models are your size, so I’m afraid this will have to do.”

He takes it in his hands, which are sun-dark and striking against the clean white linen. “So it’s a toga, then?” he asks.

“Whatever you like. Let’s go over the basics, and then you can undress.”

“Oh, already, aye? Y’move fast, hen,” he drawls, still grinning. “I like it.”

Heat rushes to your face, but you don’t feel embarrassed enough not to laugh. You busy yourself with tapping your charcoal sticks back in place, putting them back in an even row ascending in order of length, and saving yourself from having to look him in the eye. “Ha! We don’t do a lot of foreplay in this studio, I’m afraid.”

“No?” Soap hums, and he steps closer. He’s very warm, enough that you can feel it even with the space between you. You do have to look at him then. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheekbones as he gazes down at you. “That’s a shame. I’m right partial to it.”

Your brows lift, and you will your pulse to remain steady even as you inhale, catching a thread of—cologne? Aftershave? Just plain deodorant?—coming off of him. The scent caresses you, almost beckoning you to lean forward. You swear you can see the thrum of his heartbeat, there in the soft hollows by his Adam’s apple.

You blink. He is your model. “Well—I’ll try to set you up as best I can, anyway. Follow me, please.”

And you turn your back on him, because this is your workplace, and you are at work, and if you don’t get on with things you might do something stupid like actually flirt back.

Soap hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived at the art studio. He’s never been to one before, much less one housed in a university—which he has also never been to—and hell, he only ever took one art class in high school.

If pressed, he’d have imagined old brick walls covered in diagram posters, shelves of supplies in all colors, the smell of paint hanging permanently in the air. What he finds instead is modern, clean, and impersonal. Stage lights hang from fixtures in the ceiling, pointing at a platform in the back center of the room. A tight line of easels, all folded up, stand pressed into a far corner, next to a tower of stacked chairs, and waist-high cabinets line half the room against the bare, painted cinder block wall. The linoleum floor looks new.

None of this, however,  has any opportunity to disappoint him. His final unmet expectation, standing across the room and organizing a tray of art supplies, is a very welcome surprise.

You’re bonnie. Like, every point on his wishlist bonnie. Christ, he must’ve done something really good lately, because he can’t imagine just lucking into this. There’s not a hard angle to you, all sweet and soft, but when you meet his gaze during introductions there’s a sharpness to you that skewers him through the chest. You are much smarter than him, he can tell immediately. 

He’s always had a thing for smart women. Soft ones, too.  And if that weren’t enough, you let him flirt shamelessly with you, while checking him out the whole time.

Steaming Jesus.

You direct him to get onto the platform and sit down, still clothed, in an armchair draped in another pristine white sheet. The stage lights are bright overhead, and they highlight free-floating wisps of your hair in gold. 

“You want to ensure that you don’t rest your weight on only one or two points,” you explain. You have a nice voice. Steady, confident—this is your territory, your studio, and in it you are clearly the master. “The main danger is that your arms or legs might fall asleep, and you won’t realize it until you get up, in which case you’ll fall. We can’t touch you, so we can’t save you from that.”

“Y’canna touch me?” Soap repeats.

“Not without your explicit consent,” you say.

He smiles at you, the kind of smile he saves for bright nights at the pub over platoons of shot glasses. “I explicitly consent to you touching me.”

The corners of your mouth tug upward, just a bit, and you look away, clearly bashful. Something in Soap’s chest starts beating a drum. He knows already he’ll ask you to drinks after the class ends tonight.

“I doubt I’d be able to do much,” you say, “you’re a bit more substantial than the usual models.” Your eyes flick down his torso and back up.

“Guess I’ll have to follow your advice, then,” he says.

“You should,” you say, and he looks at your thigh shamelessly as you pat it—even beneath your jeans, he can see the ripple of the impact. “One of the worst-case scenarios is nerve damage.”

“So you have done this before!”

He can’t help it—Soap’s imagination runs wild. Titanic, draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls wild. It’s not exactly polite to imagine a teacher naked while she’s in the middle of giving him directions (and Jesus, what a concept, he might be half-mast already), but Soap has always found that people like it when he’s a little rude.

You drum your fingers. “I have.”

He finally hears the nerve damage part of your instruction. “How, uh—how bad can it get?”

The drumming stops. “For me? It just starts to twinge a bit if I sit on this side very long. So don’t rest your weight all on one hip, yeah?”

Concern assuaged that he had not ignored your genuine pain in order to objectify you, Soap grins. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Also—even if it doesn’t hurt, Soap, you can stop at any time, okay?”

That has him blinking. “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesnae?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. This is your first time modeling. You don’t know how you’ll feel, sitting here with your clothes off and everyone looking at you. If you need to stop, I want you to stop. I’ll make sure you’re paid anyway, so don’t worry about that.”

You are…so serious about this. The line of your brows is furrowed, imploring, like a little discomfort on his part is a violation of the highest order.

“Sure,” he says, a little dumbstruck and mostly lying. He’d be a rubbish soldier if he tapped out of a little thing like sitting down, but it’s nice that you care.

You purse your lips, nod, and then move onto the task at hand, stepping back and then down off the platform. When you begin to survey him—gaze flitting up and down his body, more pensive than appreciative—he has to resist the urge to flex.

Instead he watches you as you look at him. He especially likes, he decides, the slope of your nose and the smart, serious press of your mouth. You could get him all turned around, he thinks, if you gave it half a try.

Your tits are also great, but that’s by the by.

“Try resting your elbow up a little higher, and twist at the hips a bit,” you instruct, and Soap obeys. “Hm. How would you feel about crossing your ankles?”

You continue like this—nudging him in directions he doesn’t think make all that much of a difference, standing in different positions around the room to check the angles. He half-wishes he could step out of his body and join you, curious as he is about what you’re seeing, what your students will see. He’s not sure he has any clear expectations for how the class will go, but if you’re any indication, it’ll be more fun than he expects.

“Not sure if I’ll remember how to get back into this,” he says, partly to be helpful and partly to get you to talk to him again.

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you say. “Okay, I think that’s a good one, you can move now—I’m going to start setting up, the students should be here any minute.”

He stands, and you turn away to collect your supplies, so Soap figures this means it’s time for him to strip. He pulls off his shirt and drapes it over the chair’s arm, unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his knees.

“Soap!”

He freezes. Then he looks at you. You’re blushing again, deep and saturated, mouth parted in surprise and hand pressed to your chest. He does not miss the quick flick of your gaze down his body; he’s probably violated some rule or another of the studio, but he can’t help but grin.

You’re adorable.

“Gotta happen eventually, right?” he says.

You cover your face with your palm. “I was going to leave the room first!”

“First time someone’s wanted to run away when I’m takin’ my clothes off, I won’t lie—”

“You just come get me when you’re done!” you say hastily as you beeline for the door. “I’ll be right outside!”

Soap chuckles a little when you’re gone, the door slamming mortified behind you, and folds his clothes up behind the armchair he’ll be sitting in. You’re so cute. He can’t wait to sit naked for you for the next three hours.

And he’s definitely asking you out for drinks.

Author's Note: THE PROMISED FIC. I really hope y'all enjoy this one, I've been teasing it since March and I have so many plans. This fic has a special place in my heart because it's drawing heavily from my college days--my bachelor's degree is in fine arts, and I have a lot of fond memories of many hours in the studio both as a student and as a model.

I expect this series will also have a looser timeline than my Neighbors series, so I'm open to suggestion in terms of scene ideas! I already have plenty, but if I know my mutuals, y'all might have some good ones as well. No promises I'll write them, but you never know.

Thanks everyone for your patience, and I hope you'll look forward to where this fic goes!!

[01zfan]

suburbia | j. sc

husband!sungchan x wife!reader | 6.8k words

something i whipped up while taking a breather from my new seriez…happy fathers day sungchan. also funny little cameo in here IFYKYK.

contains: mental effects of “trying for a baby” and it failing a whole lot, sex without a condom, crying during sex

sungchan put his hand on the back of the passenger side headrest and used his hold on it to look backwards. he turned the wheel with his other hand, perfectly backing up into his spot in the driveway. 

he put his car in park and brought his hand back to its original position on the wheel. he took a quick look around his neighborhood through the windshield. he looked at every single house on the street, lined up perfectly with the same build and sighed contently. the color varied with some of the houses, some were a pale green while others were white and gray. he looked at everyones lawn, all the grass was cut to the same length and looked more of less the same. he even looked at the tall brown wooden fences separating some of the lawns with appreciation. he would’ve enjoyed the fences to be white pickets but that was neither here nor there. 

the only thing that pulled sungchan from his content state was seeing the family on the sidewalk in front of his house. he wasn’t upset by any means—seeing happy families made him smile and he never missed an opportunity to crouch down to a child and ask them their name when they came up to him. 

his head was on a swivel as he watched the family head towards the setting sun. sungchan watched the youngest peddle on the big wheel as fast as he could as the older one ran behind. he could hear the two kids screaming all the way in his car, one of them yelling about how it was their turn and the other yelling not yet. he watched the husband and wife that walked calmly behind, both of them with shades on as they engaged in conversation sungchan couldn’t hear.

when sungchan saw the baby carrier attached to the woman’s front he couldn’t stop the pang of jealousy. he knew he had no right to complain, he was extremely grateful for his life. he had a job that paid him well and treated him even better, he was a homeowner of a beautiful home in a lovely neighborhood filled with young families. he had a beautiful life he shared with his wife and was the most stable he’s been his whole life in every aspect of the word. he had no right to complain. but seeing the big family reminded him of the last thing he felt like he felt like he was missing.

sometimes he felt like there were people out to get him. like priapus himself was stopping sungchan from getting his family or that he was cursed by aphrodite. his dad never missed the opportunity to tell him candidly how hard he tried for a baby each time his mother brought up how badly she wanted a grandbaby. the conversation made both you and sungchan squirm in your seats, and sungchan had to cut them off before they could get into the specifics.

regardless, ever since sungchan heard how hard it was for them to have a baby, there was some sort of cloud hanging over the two of you. even if the both of you were still so young, the idea of having a child at this time in your lives was enticing. being young and full of energy would let you be involved in your childs’ life, and the stress of giving your parents a grandchild hung heavy. both of you tried adopting an if-it-happens-it-happens attitude about having children, but it was hard to feign indifference when you had your ovulation days marked on the calendar, or when you chose certain positions based on reddit forums and psuedoscience. you two also developed the habit of buying baby clothes solely because they were ”cute”. sungchan had a wishlist of baby equipment after doing extensive research on each brand and what they offered. but yes, if anyone asked about kids they would only get a simple shrug from the two of you and stammers talking about how you guys haven’t given it much thought.

sungchan still followed the family walking on the sidewalk, even when the setting sun blinded him. he didn’t turn until he heard knocking on his window.

he turned quickly to see your smiling face. you had just gotten home from work, your still running car parked on the curb. sungchan smiled instantly, opening his door enough to hear you speak.

“do you want to back the car into the driveway for me?” you asked.

sungchan nodded instantly, grabbing his backpack from the passenger seat and pulling his keys from the ignition. he repeated the same thing he did to his car with yours, parking the two vehicles side by side in the driveway. sungchan helped you take the groceries inside after taking a peak in the bag filled to the brim with baby clothes and toys. 

“clearance rack.” you said simply.

sungchan nodded and even picked up a skirt from the bag to comment on how frilly and pretty it was. you puffed out your chest and nodded your head, going on a tangent about how cute a baby would look in it. sungchan took special notice to how you said a baby instead of our baby as he went through the front door behind you. he also took special attention to the way you paused—only for a moment—before opening up the fridge door. he handed you the perishables and you continued talking about your day. sungchan looked at your ovulation period marked on the calendar, almost scowling the last day. all it was missing was one more x and the window would be closed for another month. 

he couldn’t stop thinking about the calendar and the finality of it all. he was being dramatic, he knew that. just like every month the one or two days would circle back around and you two of you would try again without saying you were trying. the two of you would pretend like it was perfectly normal to keep your legs elevated after sex and to keep three different pregnancy tests on tap at all times. sungchan knew nothing was definite, that you two were both equally stubborn and wouldn’t stop until one of your pregnancy tests was positive. but sungchan just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was over, that the gods or another unseen force had won. he felt like a puppy that was kicked for the nth month in a row as he quietly prepped the meat for the barbecue.

he was grateful for the silence the two of you fell into as you started prepping for the night as well. he caught you occasionally looking distracted, stealing peaks at the bag full of children’s clothes that rested on the table. 

he recalled the moment you guys had a heart to heart, how behind you felt compared to your peers and their families. he imagined the two of you were thinking about baby fever and how it felt terminal and flared up everytime you had one of these friend gatherings. the kids ran through whoever’s home was selected that month. everyone would scold their children for behaving recklessly and following sungchan and you around like little shadows. sungchan welcomed the kids and gave them piggy back rides and played along with their games while you helped burp babies. sungchan often found himself with a child glued to his arms while he sat next to the grill with his friend eunseok. he would help feed kids that insisted on sitting between the two of you, assuring his friends that it was fine. he had built a reputation as “uncle sungchan,” but it didn’t hurt any less anytime he was reminded he didn’t have a brood of his own.

“you’d make a great dad. it sucks you have terrible swimmers.” eunseok said before taking another sip of his beer. 

sungchan pointed the tongs he was using to rotate hotdogs at his friend. sungchan gave eunseok a wide-eyed look, like he was warning him not to talk to loud. eunseok looked across the yard to you enveloped bouncing shotaro’s baby on your lap. after seeing you were preoccupied, eunseok went back to the conversation he was having with sungchan.

“she’s not paying attention.” eunseok made sure to drag his words out, but he still took a step closer to sungchan to inspect the grill. “the burgers are burning by the way.” he said.

that was all it took for sungchan to angrily hand eunseok the tongs. eunseok handed sungchan the beer and got to work, flipping the meat to avoid it getting burned.

“that’s why you’re not a dad, you can’t grill meat right.” eunseok joked.

when he saw the serious expression on sungchan’s face he held up his hands in defense, already apologizing for touching on the sore subject.

“i’m sorry.” eunseok said after sungchan started kicking his feet to move dirt around. “look. do you want my advice?” eunseok asked. 

sungchan considered what advice he could get from his friend. he decided to go out on a limb, nodding his head as eunseok handed him the tongs back.

“stop trying! be prepared of course, but stopped trying so hard.” when sungchan scoffed he hit his shoulder lightly. “i’m serious. we weren’t trying for a baby then suddenly nine months later our little girl came.” eunseok said.

sungchan still can’t believe it. how can something like that happen for him without being meticulously calculated and planned? eunseok knew lightly of the routine you two had—he remembers very vividly the color draining from his friends face when he told him how often you two do it. how has your dick not fallen off yet? eunseok asked with genuine worry on his face. sungchan looked back to see you playing with eunseok’s daughter. the two of you ran around pretending you were looking for korok seeds. sungchan felt his body detach from itself longing for something like that. he forced himself to focus back to the meet on the grill that was definitely beginning to char. he tried to focus on not wanting so bad as he looked to eunseok.

“enough about me. whats the deal with you and—“

“i don’t know man, seriously.” eunseok interrupts sungchan so quickly he has to hold back a laugh. “last month she came by the house super late after one of her dates and we’ve been trying to make it work.”

sungchan raises his eyebrows at eunseok’s situation. 

“super late? after a date?” sungchan presses.

“do you want me to get into the specifics?” eunseok asks, taking another sip. “cause i will. i for sure will.” he continues.

sungchan instantly shakes his head, letting the tongs clamp loudly before eunseok can get another word out.

“i hear that enough from my father.” eunseok throws his head back to laugh, recalling all the times he has heard about the infamous advice. “i’ll seriously kill myself if i have to hear about it again.” sungchan grimaces.

after the meat is done grilling, the rest of the night continues smoothly. the children stick to you and sungchan like magnets, begging you two to make their hotdogs and feed them french fries. the kids leave reluctantly with their families at the end of the night, shotaro’s toddler even gets a little misty-eyed when she realizes it’s time to go. the two of you chat about the night as you clean up, the topic always finding its way back to the cute children and how badly they wanted to ride on sungchan’s shoulders. the two of you laugh wistfully, ignoring the pain in your chests and the baby clothes that still sit on the counter.

after watching an episode of your television show the two of you start settling down for bed. sungchan lets you go first, you’re in and out of your shower quickly to free the bathroom up.

by the time sungchan is finished with his shower you are settled into bed with in his boxers and his oversized shirt. he comes into your room without a care in the world with his towel barely hanging on his waist. seeing sungchan so close to being naked never got easier with time. without fail you still feel the juvenile giddiness at the thought of him having nothing on beneath that towel. sungchan didn’t leave much to your imagination, the towel was so low and loose on his waist you thought it would fall any second. to your disapproval, it stayed secure on his waist as he looked through the drawers of your dresser. you focused on sungchan’s back and the way his muscles moved and tightening underneath his taut skin as he shuffled through the drawers. 

you put your book down on the bedside table like it was the distraction when sungchan crouched down. you were tracing the path of the water droplets trailing down his back when he put his shirt on. he was teasing you unintentionally, he left with his white towel still around his waist when he went back into the bathroom. you heard the faucet run and sungchan came back into the room shortly after that. he had his boxers on now, with his smaller towel wrapped around his shoulders. he looked at you laying in the bed and you smiled, trying to ignore the sudden feeling you got to pounce him. 

“can i turn off the light?” sungchan asked, finger on the switch.

you nodded, almost feeling guilty at you objectifying your poor husband. he nodded back, turning off the light the same time you turned on your bedside lamp. the lamp was only bright enough to illuminate the outline of sungchan’s body as he trudged to bed. he got on with a huff, laying on top of all the covers. he relaxed for a moment and stretched his body. when he was done settling in he ran the towel through his hair one last time before tossing it on the office chair. you felt sungchan turn his attention up to you.

you sunk down from leaning against the headboard, using the heels of your feet and your hands to settle on top of the covers. almost instantly sungchan pulled at you, bringing your body closer to him. you hummed contently and cleared the small space, settling beside him. almost as soon as you felt the spark it fizzled away after hearing the notification from the flo app. you have ten hours left or you’ll never be parents! your phone seemed to taunt. both you and sungchan let out pensive sighs and looked away from eachother. 

“do you want to be on top?” you said.

you hated that you made sex sound like it was a chore, like it was a job you both had to do. you remember when sex was intimate and perfect with sungchan, void of any reason other than making the other feel good. now when you guys fucked it felt like business. no other aspect of your relationship struggled over wanting kids, but it seemed like all the yearning only manifested in the bedroom. you didn’t understand how wanting something as resplendent as a family felt so gloomy.

sungchan felt his heart drop at your words hanging in the air. he remembered eunseok’s words of advice, and they stuck with him in this moment more than ever. so sungchan got up from his spot on the bed and looked down at you. you kept eye contact, pushing sungchan’s boxers down your legs to get ready. his hands went to yours, keeping them in place.

“i’m not expecting anything.” sungchan said simply.

when your let go of the waistband he shook his head, shuffling closer to your body. he cradled your face and bent down to kiss your forehead. you still looked clueless, eyes big as saucers as you waited for sungchan to explain himself. he guided your upper body from the mattress until you were sitting in front of him. he messed with the bottom of his shirt, bringing it up slowly. sungchan felt blessed that you followed his lead and lifted up your arms so he could help you out the rest of the way. he set his balled up shirt on the sheets next to your body. he looked from your eyes to your bare chest, slowly traveling his hands from your until you arched forward towards him. with the invitation he closed his hands over your supple skin, lightly pinching your areola. you drew in a delicate breath, he hasn’t teased you in so long. sungchan watched you feeling his hunger grow exponentially after finding a new purpose for the night.

“do you want me?” sungchan said, digging his hands a little deeper into your chest.

you nodded quickly, your hands traveling to his wrist to keep his hands in place. you let your body sway back and forth from sungchan’s greedy hands, becoming malleable.

“i want you.” you said, hands leaving his wrists to push the waistband of your boxers.

sungchan detached his hands from your chest and went to your shoulders to gentle guide you down. you sighed again, feeing the cold sheets against your quickly warming skin.

sungchan kissed each of your shoulders, then the valley of your chest and a straight line down. only thin did he work at your bottoms, taking all the work away from you. he lifted each leg like you were made of glass and he pressed his wet lips to each part of your leg that was newly exposed.

you guys had been fucking with the sole purpose of procreation for so long you both had forgotten what it was like to have the tension in the room become so thick you could cut through it with a knife. you had forgotten what it was like to feel sungchan stare intensely at you as he made his way down your body. you forgot what it felt like to have his timid lips press to your inner thigh gently before sucking on your skin. 

sungchan was no better, he had foolishly forgotten what it felt like to draw a tiny gasp from your parted lips and to earn a sudden twitch from your body. he had forgotten what it felt like to grab the underside of your thighs to guide your legs over his shoulders while you preened closer to him. 

what sungchan could never forget was your taste. you still laid thick on his tongue like nectar and shined on his lips like gloss. your thighs were still as soft as he remembered, closing around his head as soon as he started to tend to you.

“sungchan.” you whined.

he looked up from your pussy to your eyes, locking onto your shoulders that sagged and your head that leaned to the side each time he sucked a little harder. he didn’t have it in him to pull away from your heat, but he showed you that he was listening by pushing a finger inside of you.

your elbows slid out from underneath you, and sungchan watched your chest raise towards the ceiling as you arched your back. he already felt you clenching around his singular finger and his tongue. only then did he pull away to watch your contracting hole so he would never forget this view again. your body was begging for more and your voice was too after feeling the loss of contact. sungchan looked up to see your beautiful face already becoming wrecked. your hair was mussed but looked like a halo on your head. the longer you two kept eye contact the more he felt the seizing around his finger. you were so blissfully unaware, the only indicator that you were still with him was the wide-eyed look you gave him from the head of the bed. sungchan used his free hand to grip your thighs a little tighter and slowly pumped another finger into your heat.

“oh my god.” you said to the ceiling. 

your leg that wasn’t being held by sungchan started going rogue. each time he placed a delicate kiss to your heat you’d try to draw it in close to your other leg to stop the stimulation. when he plunged a third finger into your heat he felt a dull prod from your heel digging into his back. even though sungchan knew you only needed a gentle command of be still from him to cease your movement he gave you grace—he knew you had probably forgotten what it all felt like too. so he only flexed his back for you and pulled you closer by his hold on your thigh to give your heel a reason to dig deeper.

sungchan only had to bring his tongue to start flicking your clit before he felt your full body start twitching. he heard you fist the sheets and slightly shake your head against the pillows. he took a quick peak up as he pressed his tongue flat against your heat. he saw your chest quiver from a shaky breath as you brought a had to rest over your heart. any efforts you made to steady your breathing sungchan accidentally thwarted. just when your hand would loosen on the sheets you’d clench around him again stimulating your entire body all over again. sungchan watched you self-titillate, until your chest was rising and lowering rapidly and your quiet sighs turned into pathetic whimpers.

“it’s been too long.” your voice cracked when you spoke, like you were getting high off your own voice. “i’m close.” you said.

even though you weren’t looking at sungchan he still nodded. from his spot he could see your blinking eyes and your lip caught between your teeth. he selfishly needed more, he needed to see all of you like it was the first time again. he detached himself from your clit and gave it a gentle lick to hear a pained moan rip from your throat. he started speeding up his fingers, pleased that you were spreading your legs apart further instead of closing them in to feel all of it.

“look at me.” his voice cracked the same as yours, and it cracked again when he saw you quickly shake your head as your hips lifted from the bed. “baby please. i need to see you.” he said it desperately around the lump in his throat as he sped up his fingers.

priapus and aphrodite be damned—when you weakly propped your body up on your elbows to look sungchcan in the eyes he felt like zeus himself. nothing could’ve stopped him when he saw your glassy eyes and your swollen bitten lips. you had turned into something otherworldly in the small amount of time you spent wallowing in pleasure. your lips that were parted in a silent whine spurred sungchan on, and he ignored the tension in his jaw to duck back down to your heat again. he felt a new wave of power come over him seeing you struggle to keep eye contact. your head lulled to the side and your eyes became half closed. sungchan pulled his hand from your thigh to reach it towards you. he settled on your stomach and you leaned to one side to give him your hand. the electricity shot up his spine feeling your clammy hand clutch his so tightly. he kept burning eye contact, pressing your joined hands deep into your stomach. 

your breathing became ragged, and your eyebrows became furrowed. sungchan felt your hips preen forward into his mouth and fingers. he heard a loud moan that bounced off the walls in your bedroom and ring in his skull like a bell. your hand gripped his so hard he thought his fingers was going to break. he felt an overwhelming force from you that overpowered his entire being and then you came down. your hips stilled, your grip loosened, and the only sound that came from you was a high-pitched prolonged whimper. your voice got so high that it fell out completely and sungchan felt your ambrosia coat his tongue and fingers. he was driven by the lewd sound of it all, now it was sungchan squeezing your hand with a force to keep you there with him. your thighs shook on his shoulders but he kept going, and your cries became a siren. sungchan didn’t stop until your hand that was being held by his pressed into his forehead.

he let himself be pushed away by your weak hand, and when he pulled his fingers from you he heard a sigh of relief. he heard your upper body fall to the bed again with a dull thud. sungchan’s breathing matched yours, quick and shallow as you both tried to calm your erratic heart rate. he saw your hand weakly rest on your stomach and clasped his hand over it, shaking you slightly. sungchan guided your shaking legs down from his shoulders to rest on the bed. you still winced from the exertion, every single part of you seemed to be sensitive. when sungchan raised himself from in between your legs he watched your body shudder. he hovered above you, looking down at your sleepy eyes and parted lips. he brought his hand to run across your forehead, wicking away some of the sweat.

“how are you feeling?” he asked gently.

sungchan continued to watch his words slowly register in your mind as you slowly nodded and swallowed your spit. he felt your hand lift from your stomach to press the pads of your fingers weakly into his stomach. 

“i’m okay.” you said.

you spoke with a sniffle at the end of your words and you had fresh tear tracks smeared across your eyelids. your cheeks were hot to the touch like they were set aflame. sungchan saw the evidence of biting across your swollen lower lip. at the thought of this being you okay sungchan felt tempted to remind himself what you looked like when you were the opposite. but there would be other chances to have you inconsolable underneath him—he already had his plans set for the night. 

he brought himself down to his elbows, hovering his body even closer to yours. sungchan watched your face scrunch up a little in pain as you drew your legs up the bed. he kissed your forehead until the creases were smooth and you lifted your head  to meet his lips. once sungchan got started with the kisses he couldn’t stop, he kept kissing every plane of your face, and he wasn’t satisfied until he could see the glow from his glossy kisses catch the light in the room. sungchan smiled down at you after the final kiss, squeezing your ear gently as you smiled back up at him. your eyelids no longer hung low, they were blown out and wide once you ran your fingertips down his stomach again. sungchan felt something catch in his throat when he saw you close and open your eyes to show him you were alert. all you had to do was cast on look at the bulge in his boxers before sungchan was pushing them down his legs. you helped, lifting your body slightly until they were out of your hands reach. 

“i missed you so much.” you murmured.

you impatiently used your foot to push sungchan’s waistband down until they reached his ankles. for a moment sungchan lowered his body completely to rest against yours as he quickly took off the garment. 

“i missed you too.” he whispered back. 

he balled it up before throwing it over the side of the bed, ignoring the large wet patch he felt against his palm. he was thinking about how he was so focused on the future he was forgetting to live in the present. sungchan felt the lump in his throat he tried so hard to ignore grow larger. it took away his ability to speak, so he settled for placing a burning kiss on your lips. he hoped the things he couldn’t say were acknowledged by your hand that threaded through his hair and rested on his shoulder. sungchan let you pull him closer, until his dick rested against the sheets and his chest pressed against yours. his hips jerked when he felt your legs wrap around his waist. sungchan was weak, he stood no chance against your hand that pressed into his back to bring him closer. his hips jerked again when he heard you whine underneath his full body weight. 

you pulled away and sungchan instinctually pouted before you pushed him into the crook of your neck. he found solace there, the feeling of his breath bouncing off your warm skin helped him try to control the stinging he felt on his waterline. your hand drew gentle shapes on his back, and sungchan felt your heart thud against his chest.

“sungchan.” you said timidly.

he tried to pull his head from the crook of your neck but a hand on the back of his head kept him there. he instead kissed the side of your face and squeezed your ear again to try and comfort you. he heard you lips part and the start of your sentence three times before you finally spoke.

“i need you so bad.” you spoke with a shudder, like the weight your words caused a spike in your temperature.

sungchan nodded against your head, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his hand around the root of his dick. he felt your hand pull away from his back to wedge between your two bodies.

“you got me.” sungchan croaked, shivering when he felt your hand settle over his.

you both started letting out gasps in anticipation. sungchan took his hand away from his dick to hold onto your side, trying to be as gentle as possible. the feeling of you guiding his dick made him dick his fingers into your side. he dared to lift his body high enough from yours to take a quick peak. the sight made him dizzy, seeing you lift your legs to give him more room. sungchan shifted his knees forward and quickly pulled you down for the best position. you whimpered at the manhandling and you handled him back by running your dick up and down your folds. his precum and your cum made a slick lewd sound as you continued your ministrations. sungchan leaned his hips forward and pressed his sweaty face into the pillow to muffle his whimpers.

“please.” you begged, still teasing you both.

sungchan wanted to tell you all he needed to know was what you wanted and he’d find a way to get it to you. but hearing your voice crack sungchan realized he wasn’t faring too well himself. he could only repeat what you said, a murmur of a please barely breaking past the fluffy pillows.

only then did you finally guide sungchan’s dick lower to prod at your entrance. he felt like he was about to explode when he finally took initiative by slowly pushing his hips forward. you both let out choked gasps, bodies quaking against eachother and sungchan settled further in. he felt your hand still at the base of his dick, like you wanted to hold him until the very last second. you finally let go after your index finger and thumb that was still wrapped around his dick pressed into your clip. your hand went back to its place on sungchan’s shoulder, squeezing hard each time your walls pulsed around his dick. 

sungchan finally composed himself enough to pull away from the crook of your neck. he still felt the lump, but his need to see as much as he could overpowered every other thought in his mind. sungchan hovered above your body after kissing your cheek, enjoying the view he got from up here. he saw your spread legs, your eyes screwed shut from the stimulation. he drew his hips back slowly until his was all the way out. when he saw his dick coated in you he pushed all the way back in, going back down to his elbows sos he could press his cheek against yours. he whined feeling your clammy skin stick together, taking it as a sign you two should never part. 

“i love you.” he said quietly, scared that if he got any louder it would come out broken again.

sungchan’s hips pressed against yours and he felt you clench around him again and you wrapped your hand over his back to pull him as if he could get any closer.

“i love you too.” you said, your sentence ending with a gasp when sungchan thrusted in a little harder.

just like that, sungchan couldn’t hold back anymore. he pulled away from the side of your face to look down at you. the only difference from before was that his view was obstructed through a bracket of tears that welled in his eyes. his sniffles where covered up by your moans that were increasing in volume the harder and more languid his thrusts got. seeing you so enveloped in pleasure made the coil in sungchan’s stomach tighten the same way his heart seized. it took his breath away, going through every emotion as he looked down at your face. you were oblivious to it all, slack jawed as you looked down to where your two bodies met. maybe you were ignoring his tears for his sake the same way you ignored his shortcomings in regards to giving you a baby. 

one of his hands went to your leg, pressing it gently to your body to hit a deeper spot. you pressed your head into the mattress with your eyes screwed shut. you drew in a deep breath and bit your lip so hard sungchan was worried you might draw blood.

“i’m close again.” you said again.

sungchan felt you clamp around him as you arched your back off the bed to touch your chest to his. sungchan could only hang his head low as he continued thrusting into you at the same pace, quickly becoming overwhelmed. 

he saw the tears land on your collarbone first. some of them glided down your skin leaving a tiny trail while some caught in the dips of your body. after a tear fell on your jawline sungchan heard your noises falter, caught between euphoria and the feeling that something was amiss.

“sungchan?” he didn’t know if he wanted to cry harder or groan at the sound of your bedroom voice being laced with worry. “what’s wrong?” you asked.

when your hand tilted his chin up to force eye contact he saw your expression soften. the pace he set was falling apart as you scanned his features trying to silently find out what was wrong. 

“i’m sorry.” sungchan said tearfully, turning his head to try and hide in your hand. 

you gently turned him to face you, giving him nowhere to hide.

“what are you sorry for?” you said, voice still whiny.

“you want a baby so bad.” sungchan felt his dick pulse in your heat as he pressed deeper. “and i can’t give that to you.” he admitted.

your legs around his waist kept sungchan buried deep inside of you. without focusing on his hips sungchan felt his head try to hang low again. instead you brought his head down to you, pressing your forehead against his. you drew in a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to not ruin the heart to heart by telling sungchan how good he felt inside of you.

“it’ll happen when it happens.” you said after a beat of silence. 

sungchan shook his head against yours, his hand digging desperately into your side.

“i need to give you what you want.” he says desperately.

you shake your head despite your walls clenching around him again. 

“i have everything i want already.” you start moving your hips again, earning a hiss from sungchan. “everything else is just a bonus.” you say.

sungchan feels another wave of fat tears break past his water line at your sincere smile. with your hands pressed to his cheeks your thumbs wipe the tears away. sungchan settles into your hands, ears drifted close as he lets out another sniffle. when he jolts he remembers the compromising positions your both in. at the same time you both realize the novelty of it all.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says again, this time a lift to his voice.

you shake your head and swivel your hips, basking in how full you feel. you bring sungchan’s head down so his ear is right above your lips so he can hear your voice that’s barely above a whisper.

“don’t be sorry. just keep fucking me.” you lick the shell of sungchan’s ear and he lets out a breathy moan that fans your ear. “the rest will come later.” you assure. 

sungchan nods and pulls his hips back. he goes back to hovering above you, and this time you don’t pull your gaze away from his glassy red eyes and his wet eyelashes.

“you’re gonna be such a good mother.” sungchan kisses your lips and you reciprocate. “so sweet and pretty and kind.” he babbles, kissing your lips again.

sungchan frees his hand that was pressing your thigh to your chest so he can grip your hand. your leg is still in place, now just hooked over his arm. you nod through his hard thrust, trying to collect your words by squeezing his hand tightly.

“you’re gonna be a perfect dad.” you pull sungchan’s hand closer to your body so his tricep presses into your thigh harder. sungchan’s dick hits a spot deep inside that takes your breath away. “so perfect.” you gasp.

sungchan feels his air start to prickle and his skin starts to become hot. his hand grips yours so tight it causes your fingers to go straight. he begins grunting and whimpering between each hard thrust, and you start falling apart the same way. sungchan bites his lip, hoping the pain will make him regain his bearings.

“i’m close.” sungchan says, letting his head lull backwards.

“me too.” you mewl.

you start lifting your hips on your own accord and sungchan’s hold on your waist and hand becomes bruising. your lips part from the discomfort, and your throat goes dry when you realize it’s adding to the jumbled coils in your stomach.

sungchan fully rests his bodyweight on yours knowing you like the pressure. he presses his hand that holds yours into the mattress for stability as he brings his hand that was gripping your waist to rub at your clit. he’s quick with the protruding bundle of nerves, and you respond instantly. your squirming underneath him, no longer moving your hips to not interrupt sungchan’s rhythm. you start babbling incoherently against his lips in between your rushed kisses. sungchan nods through your please’s and give me a baby’s because he’s nothing if not a man that gives you anything you ask for. so he pulls in a breath the same time you do, and focuses on getting you across the finish line first. when your body seizes up again sungchan hones in his fingers rubbing quick revolutions and trades in his quick thrusts to hit deep inside of you instead. 

he follows closely behind you, and in the white euphoria of his orgasm he’s swear he can see it all. he sees the your happy family walking down the sidewalk to the sunset. you have a baby strapped to your chest and he has a toddler on his shoulders giggling uncontrollably.

sungchan drops his head to the crook of your neck and sucks harshly on your skin. you dig your fingernails into the back of his hand and his back, crying out as warmth forcibly overtakes you. you’re shaking by the time sungchan stops his hand on your clit, staying inside of you while his dick still twitches. you press your hand to sungchan’s body that rests above your stomach and he gets the hint to press his hand that was on your clit to your lower tummy. you squirm underneath his touch and he presses deeper, letting out a shaky breath as you clench around him again.

you slump finally and sungchan does too, pulling out completely to roll beside your body.

you’re both weak, covered in sweat and a newfound love you thought was previously lost. when sungchan turns on his side to face you, you do the same, thinking about the ache that’s already settling in your muscles.

his large hand rests over your cheek, moving back and forth to feel your supple skin against his palm. you turn your head to kiss his hand and sungchan’s heart lurches in his chest. when you try to move from the bed sungchan silently pulls you closer to him, drawing you close until your head rests underneath his chin. he wraps his arms around you completely and kisses the side of your face again and again, until his lips slow to a halt and your eyes drift closed.

thank you for reading :3 here is my ko-fi if you wanted to fund your local depraved riize fanfic writer👩‍💻🕺

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is there any way I could request more of Danny's Grill? I keep re reading it and it's so great!

Danny's mansion amazed Tim, which said a lot given that he had lived in the Drake and Wayne Manors. It seemed almost like a castle, with its four floors and a few towers (four at each corner of the fenced-off stone. Danny had his property enclosed. )

Everything screamed old money and was well taken care of. He also was surprised to find that the whole place had a lot of natural light.

The drive out of Gotham got them away from the dark cloudy skies to wide blue, and the mansion had plenty of strategically placed windows that caught the sun to light up the rooms.

It was likely that way since the place was obviously built before electricity. Even the air felt lighter, sweater, and caused ease to rest in his bones. Tim found himself strolling through the place, oddly at peace with the silence.

He had taken a dip in Danny's pool, adoring how it was designed to resemble a natural river, complete with a waterfall. It was still a pool, with the proper level of chlorine and tile floor, but there were rocks and multiple plants all around that really sold it to him.

The waterfall was made from unevenly stacked rocks as if carved out of a cliffside. He enjoyed sitting near it, flouting in in the rippling water and listening to the falling water.

Tim found a makeshift bench from the stacked rocks right under the waterfall, where he could comfortably sit down and have the water reach his shoulders. He found himself in that same spot often over the week since he came to stay with Danny.

He was in a fluffy red bathrobe- and nothing else- having just finished a shower to wash off the pool's chlorine. His bare feet patted against the tile floor as Tim once more appreciated the artistic white and gold wallpaper.

He loved that it had leaf-like designs that weren't all over but small enough to give the place a pop of color.

He was still thinking of a destination, wandering about the large building while waiting for Danny to return.

Danny has also been a gracious host. After the first night, he had made him some food and offered him a room across from his, just as large as the master room. It was a lovely white with gold trimming, matching the rest of the mansion but left room to decorate the walls to his hearts content.

Tim hasn't, but Danny seemed rather insistent that he could if he would like to. That Tim had the option open to him. Danny, he came to find, was all about giving people choices.

What did they want to eat? Whatever Tim was in the mood for.

What should they do? If Tim was okay with being around people, they would go out and take pictures. If he was having an overwhelmed day, then Tim could find his own little corner to sit.

Was it okay if Danny gave him friendly hugs or pats? Only if he asked Tim before going in for a hug.

Could Tim walk around in nothing but a bathrobe? Of course! If it made him feel better, Danny could even avoid the entire west side of the mansion so he wouldn't have to see him if he thought like clothes were a bother.

It was enjoyable but also baffling.

Tim has never met someone who gave him as much attention as Danny did but also respected all his boundaries. He enjoyed talking about them, setting them, and even seemed to glow whenever Tim carefully tested the waters, by placing some that would have upset his past friends and family.

Another thing that needed to be clarified about Danny was that he plainly didn't make any sense at all. Tim had always assumed Danny was middle class- maybe high middle- since he ran his own food truck and all but it was obvious by his house that he didn't need it.

Danny's family- from what Tim had been able to uncover- had always been low, middle class up until Danny had been fifteen. Then their luck turned when a rich distant relative by the name of Pariah Dark willed Danny all his fortunes.

Who was Pariah Dark? What happened to him? Why was Danny the only one he left his money to and not all of the Fentons? Why did this property sit for years without any record of usage yet still look brand new?

There was also the question of whether Danny was human.

Tim is sharp when finding small details that lead to clues that lead to answers.

It's both a curse and a blessing.

In this case, he noticed little things about Danny; his tendency to not notice the cold weather, his slight winces when loud noises were near, his graceful steps that were sometimes a tad bit off of gravity, his eyes seemed to change color- blue and green- and the way he would stare into shadows, gaze following something that Tim could not see.

Tim could have assumed Danny had some mental issues- who didn't at this point?- but he felt that wasn't the real reason or not all of it.

He couldn't explain it, but Danny felt like more. Especially when he returns from Gotham because the air feels aware of his arrival. Like it got excited that Danny was back.

Was the mansion sentient like the House of Mystery? Or was it an extension of Danny himself?

Tim had accompanied Danny on a few of his food truck runs. Mostly as a chasier but Danny had beamed when he asked if he could join him three days into his stay.

He did to observe how Danny interacted with the people of Gotham. Just like the air gane a certain something, whenever Danny sold his ware and the people thanked him, he seemed to puff up in strength.

Not the pride in his work kind of puff up but an actual burst of energy as if though he had taken an energy drink. This was doubly so when he gave the street kids free meals. Helping them seemed almost like a drug to Danny.

It begged the question of whether it was, in a sense, a drug. Because Tim could see all the tiny hints that helping people seemed to do much more for his friend. He had dilated pupils, a droopy smile, and random bursts of energy, and he even got a bit snappy when he went too long helping.

Tim could even claim that it was as if Danny was making Deals, and he did not dismiss his hypothesis because Tim had already dealt with aliens, demons, and gods as Red Robin.

Fae or other magical creatures wouldn't be as far-fetched as he once thought.

Did that mean Danny Fenton was never fully human or that something had happened to him that changed him?

There were many questions. Not enough answers.

Yet despite all of that, Tim couldn't find it in himself to think Danny was dangerous. If anything he could only safely conclude Danny lived and breath to protect others.

Tim, the sole attention to his protective tendencies due to proxy, was all but wrapped in a blanket of affection and respect. It could drive a guy to do something silly, like hang up his cowl, resign from WE and live the rest of his life as a pampered prince awaiting for his King.

How odd.

Tim never wanted to do any of those things, but he felt he would if Danny asked. The best part? He knew Danny would never ask that of him which made him want to stay even more.

It's too bad all good things have an end. Tim thinks wistfully. He would much rather spend his days here, but his family was anxious about the lack of check-in.

Tim didn't want them to find out about Danny and had chosen to send a delayed message from the Nest, letting them know he was undercover, infiltrating a possible new magical court. The Bats knew not to risk his cover but they also wanted some proof he was doing alright.

He had asked Danny if he could go to Gotham for a quick trip, and despit the saddness in his blue eyes, Danny always let him. He even gave him the keys to a his car, walking him to the gate with a promise the gates were always opoen to Tim.

Tim would use those visits to catch up on WE work and deposit information packages at Bat checkpoints. He would also pick up coded folders from other family members who wanted to keep him in the loop should their cases overlap.

It's been three weeks since he came here; in that time, Jason had cracked down on pimps and working people. The family was helping him, as Jason was attempting to fulfill a favor that someone had cashed in and was struggling to find the working boy his contact was worried about.

Apparently, the guy was regularly getting roughed up and was underage to boot. Tim hopes Jason finds the jerks hurting him. He would love to help but he had to figure out Danny Fenton first.

The air brighten, snapping Tim out of his thoughts.

Danny was home.

He turned towards the main gate, scurrying to make it to the front door before Danny could finish driving up the drive way and park his car under neeath the shadow parking spots.

His heart fluttered as he barely slide into the main hall way and the wood of the door swung open. Danny steps in, still wearing his black t-shirt and jeans that he favored when working his truck.

"Welcome home!" Tim tells him, watching Danny's whole face break into a wide grin. It was like dawn breaking over the horizion and it made him feel all sorts of warm.

Danny was definitely beautiful enough to be otherworldly.

"I'm home, Alvin." Danny pauses and then gestures to his robe, his smile turning warm and fond. "Another late swim?"

"I like the water. It helps my bones," He says, shrugging his shoulders.

Danny hums. "I could ask a friend of mine to install a hot watered pool for you."

Tim considers it. He wants to say no but he just knows the mansion will rat him out. Danny seemed to always know when a lie is spoken here. Another check in the Fae theory.

"If....if it's not a bother, that would be nice." He says suddenly overcome with shyness. The feeling vanishes at the utter delight and green eyes of Danny.

"It's never a bother! The east wing has a smaller pool that rarely gets used. I'll make some calls and have it turn into an artificially hot spring for you." Danny chirps. "It would help me relax too. You would not belive the fight I had with Robin today."

Tim stills. "You fought Robin?"

"Not physically." Danny corrected but still shook his head sadly. "We disagreed on the case he's helping Red Hood with."

"What case?" Are Damian and Jason working together on the working boy's case? Or was it something else? And more importantly did he try Danny's food?!

He may come back for more if he did, and Tim's personal cheat truck was no longer his own!

"I'm not sure of the details, but they are trying to map out all the working girl's corners. He was upset when I told him I would not release that information to a child." Danny sighs. "I know he's Robin, but I could sense how uncomfortable it made him feel, you know? It made my core ache, but Robin took it as me not wanting to respect him as a hero. It was a whole thing."

Tim has so many questions he feels like he might just burst. It's only years of training that had him clamping down on all but one. "You're helping the Bats catch prostitutes?"

Danny's eyes widen "No! No! Not the employees themselves, just their sick pimps. I would never rat them out."

Tim nods once. "Okay."

"I mean it, Alvin. I would never"

And the blue eyes have flickered to green again. Interesting.

But he can't help but relax smiling at Danny. "I know. Thank you for helping them though."

Danny's face flushes, and then he hastily looks away. Coughing into his fist, he mutters, "Are you hungry? I still have some leftover Pizza from today's menu."

"Starved. Want to watch a moive while we eat?"

"Yeah, sounds good-are you-I mean, will you be-um" Danny fumbles over his words gesturing at him. Tim tilts his head in confusion, wondering why he sounds so nervous, until Danny finally blurts. "Is that all you're going to wear?"

"Yeah. It's soft." He says playing with the robe's sleeves and Danny swallows.

"Alright. Okay. I um I'll get the pizza. Will you go pick the moive and get it ready?"

Tim beams, twisting on his heel to do just that and catching the reflection of Danny clutching his chest and screaming silently into a closed fist in a nearby wall mirror. His face is redder than before, and the house ripples with excitement, glee, warmth, and happiness.

Interesting indeed.

[silentium-symphony]

Spoiled Rotten (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) needed a break from now watch me whip, so here's some smut :) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

i didn’t really mean to make a sequel for Starved, it just kinda happened 💀 can def stand alone tho! i don't typically write a dominant reader, but i had a lot of fun trying smth new :) i hope you enjoy ♡

cw: afab!reader, mentioned somnophilia (like one line), swearing, nice and fluffy in the beginning, ya'll being absolute BRATS to each other oml, taking turns dominating the other :), link once again having the dirtiest mouth in the world, spreading you on all fours, riding link like the gorgeous stallion he is

wc: 5.8k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Passerine warbles teased your consciousness from the lands of slumber to the realm of morning. A curtain of colors whisped behind your eyelids and you felt the warmth of the sunbeam conveniently placed on your eyes; cracking them open a smidgen spelled the death of your pupils as you were immediately blinded by its solar glory.

Your head lulled to the side, still very much weighted by sleep, and came face-to-face with your lightly snoring husband. His golden brows were pulled into a relaxed arch, no longer featuring a drawn, terse look. His cheeks, smushed into the pillow, slotted perfectly in your hand and you stroked them fondly. A soft moan left him and you could feel the little bits of tension in his jaw disappear completely. Looking further down, you saw his neck and chest littered with hickeys galore; your lips tingled hotly.

You lifted the arm that was dangled loosely over your waist with great care, gauging his expression for any hint of discomfort or arousal. You were genuinely shocked he didn't slug his arm over you and hug you tighter as he normally would. While setting his arm down in front of you, you saw bright red scratch marks running up and down his arms. Highlights of last night pervaded your mind and it took a considerable amount of mental fortitude to not start grinding against his bare member. Additionally, thinking about how he abused your cunt with his incessant pounding started to fill you up with post-orgasm sleepiness--not what you wanted when you were trying to get out of bed.

And he did all that right after he got back. Y'know... It makes sense why he'd be knocked out.

Your lips ghosted atop his twitching eyelids while you slinked out of bed and oNTO THE FLOOR OH SWEET HYLIA

A hand flew to the corner of your bedstand and you somehow managed to catch yourself before you ate shit. Link really diddly darn fucked you 'til your legs gave out, huh? Can't say you were complaining--

You hauled yourself up, your knees shivering and buckling from the arduous task of existing in an upright position. You scooted closer to your shared dresser, the smooth walls acting as support, and you slipped on one of Link's shirts. His scent wrapped around you comfortingly and was reminiscent of one of his hugs. There was also the added benefit of Link really liking you in his clothes--a fact you very much took advantage of.

With the wall still acting as your cane, you made the trepidatious trip to the kitchen.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You balanced two plates of fried eggs and rice on a small wooden tray, complete with silverware, water, and two mug cakes! You managed to find the recipe haphazardly scribbled down on a random piece of parchment. You thought it looked delectable and hoped he thought the same.

You limped ambled your way to the bedroom and opened the old door as gingerly as possible.

Unluckily for you (and him, now that you thought about it), the wakeful tendencies stemming from the extreme sport of sleeping alone in the wilderness kicked in and his ears visibly twitched, disturbed by the softest sounds from across the room. He shuffled quickly and turned to you, his eyes still drooped with sleep.

"Mm... g'morn..." His nose quivered. "What smells so good...?"

"Breakfast!"

:O

:D

"Breakfast? In bed?" He could barely contain his excitement.

"Breakfast in bed!"

He sat up, propping and fluffing the pillows as you made your way over to him. He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Oh! Are those...?" The gears in Link's head buffered and churned.

"Mug cakes!" You set the tray down on his lap and saddled next to him.

"Mug cakes!!!" He returned your gleeful energy. "They look delicious, darling."

"Thank you, dear." You shoveled a fluffy mound of rice topped with an equally fluffy piece of egg in your mouth and sighed contently. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before dipping to your ear.

"Not as delicious as you though." He breathed, eyeing the plain white shirt hanging from your frame. You gasped at the sensation of heat tickling your neck and your palm connected with the backside of his head.

"Ow!" He pouted. "Unnecessary."

"J-Just eat the damn food!" Clearly flustered, you scraped more food into your mouth and promptly turned away from him. He laughed while smoothing out your bedhead before chowing down on the simple spread before him.

"How're you feeling? I'm sorry for being a bit... rough last night."

Good sir you almost broke my back and yours "a bit?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Okay, fine, but my question still stands--how're you feeling?"

"I'm all right! My... Legs were pretty weak this morning." You shrunk, feeling Link's ego swell. You could practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Were you okay climbing out of bed this morning? You didn't fall, did you?"

You were so thankful he couldn't see the imaginary sweat beading down your brow.

"Nope! All good!"

"Glad to hear it."

Your conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both relished in each other's company and the food. While you finished up the main dish, Link dipped his spoon into the gooey mug cake and almost kicked his feet in childlike joy.

"This is amazing! It tastes just like your hugs!"

Your heart simultaneously fluttered and melted into one big goop.

"Heheh... And what, good sir, do my hugs taste like?"

"Hm..." He leaned in and glomped onto you. "Warm... Soft... Sweet..."

While you were basking in his warm embrace, you didn't notice the sly hand sneaking for the hem of your shirt. Warm digits traced up your torso and cusped your breasts; a pleasurable chill shuddered through you.

"Tantalizing..." He husked, lowering you onto your back. "Enchanting..."

He showered your neck with gentle pecks and retraced the bruises and nips he planted on your skin the night before. Your arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him closer. You could feel his dick begin to throb with heat.

"Mm... Link..."

Guuuurgle...

Oh.

He pulled away from you, light, innocent giggles bouncing between the two of you.

"Let's take our time today, okay?"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

After clearing breakfast and cuddling for an hour or so, you both finally got up and started your day. Link volunteered to wash the dirty dishes while you put away the... scattered clothes from last night. Tidying the room to your liking, you came down to meet your husband.

Whose got his lean, toned, battle-scarred back turned to you.

Your love marks from last night were due to join his never-ending collection of scars--at least for the coming weeks. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you stalked toward him, tiptoes feeling around the squeaky floorboards.

He soaped up the water some more and smiled at the bubbles that floated to his nose, humming a happy lil' tune, completely oblivious to your sinful intentions. As he dipped a plate into the soapy basin, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something warm and soft trace his back and sides.

His next exhale caught in his throat and he sputtered... some type of exclamation. As quickly as it tensed, his sinewy muscles grew lax in your embrace, melting into your touch. He adored the way your mouth hungrily suctioned to his old scars and how divine it felt for your hands to caress him, rubbing soothing patterns into sore spots he never knew he had.

You worked your way up and brushed your lips along the still-fresh scratches on his shoulders. You painted them with tender, loving kisses as your hand drifted lower and lower...

"You're marked up so nicely for me..." Your fingers coasted the prominent bulge in his pants and he bit back a whine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Hands spun his waist around and his eyes flew shut, fully expecting to feel your lips slam into his as you took him right then and there.

...?

Except... You didn't...?

His eyes cracked open to his beloved's absence, confounded. A bright, chirpy whistle had him swiveling his head for a double take and he saw you happily drying the dishes he washed. Like nothing happened.

"You okay, love?" You looked at him through your lashes. "You've got stars in your eyes."

Said eyes twitched.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The sun was still high up in the sky when you finished torturing the poor man with your household chores. The door swung open; Link went out first, bucket and brush in hand, while you stayed at the door for just a moment longer. The open windows couldn't quite demonstrate the soul-cleansing power of the fresh winds and you relished the wind tugging through your hair. Your lungs expanded as much as they could, filling themselves with the scent of home-tinged wilderness, before breathing out.

Epona's happy nickers tickled your ears and you drew closer to the duo. Link was going through her sleek coat, brushing it of dirt and grime while you filled her troughs with fresh hay and clean water. You threw yourself onto Epona and gave her fluttering kisses on her snout and neck, singing praises into the ears of your equestrian friend and thanking her repeatedly for bringing Link back home safely.

Link, smiling, grabbed the bucket and left her stall.

"I'm gonna grab some more water."

You acknowledged him with a bright "mm" and turned your attention to Epona, who was lovingly nuzzling your neck. Your husband rounded the corner and disappeared behind your house--you waited a few moments.

Now was your chance.

You flew out of her stall and veered into your house, cramming as many apples as you could hold in your arms, and practically teleported back to her stall. The sweet mare let out the happiest whinny you've ever heard and pawed the ground with anticipation. You peered over your shoulder as you presented her her favorite treats and prayed to Hylia Link's bucket broke or something. Just... Please Goddess, stall him for a bit.

Link loves hates it when you tease him with the 'nonsense' of Epona liking you more. You remembered the first time you brought up such a notion and Link was quick to scoff at your claims, assuring you that he and Epona share a bond like no other. The sweet, sweet look on his face when Epona responded to your voice and not his that one time never left your mind. To add insult to injury, not only did she straight up ignore the blonde--she clopped away from Link and over to you, leaving her beloved rider in the literal and metaphorical dust. Link reverted back to silence for the rest of the day.

Besides! She works just as hard as Link in keeping Hyrule safe. She deserves all the treats in the world.

Epona made quick work of the bushel and pressed her snout to you for more. You laughed and gently pushed her away, kissing her nose as you did. You turned around, half-expecting to see your husband with a silly exasperated look on his face; no one. You rocked on your heels, keeping a steady stream of pats on Epona's neck as you craned yours to find your beloved. Where was he?

The familiar knot of worry pitted your stomach and, pressing one final nuzzle into Epona, left her stall. You followed the trail your love had taken several minutes ago, careening your neck around the corner. The well sat unattended and the bucket your husband carried laid on its side. You approached the scene carefully, your lips forming into a 'Link?'

A pair of hands dug into your waist; your vision whizzed into a blend of colors, the back of your house bleeding into the scene of a little alcove. You barely had time to think let alone scream before something hot and wet muffled your lips. Your assailant pressed you further into the wall, pinning your arms above your head and coasting his digits up your thigh. Link's handsome features flooded your view and you moaned into the kiss, feeling your core grow hot with need.

He moved himself between your legs and gyrated his clothed tip against your engorged and sensitive bud. Your lips pulled away with a pop and he busied himself tarnishing your neck once again, reinforcing the lighter bruises already beginning to fade and making new ones in previously unexplored spots. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he listened to the pathetic whimpers dripping out of you.

"Shh..." A playful kiss lapped your collarbone. "Not so loud hun, someone might hear..."

You fussed and squirmed under his treatment, his mischievous, nippy kisses along your skin sending your thoughts into overdrive. You hadn't even noticed your hips rolling faster, sloppier against him as your heat craved that sweet friction. Link felt your juices seep through the thin fabric of his pants and moisten the head of his cock.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me..." He sang, nibbling the lobe of your ear.

His hands left your wrist to find solace at the back of your thighs. With a grunt, he hoisted you into a seated position and pressed his full weight against yours, nullifying any chance for escape. Your legs hung uselessly at his hips as he continued moving against you in both body and lip.

His mouth moved to capture the beginnings of your breasts, suckling the curve of your mound until your chest glistened with his spit. He looked up at you through trembling lashes, committing your hooded gaze, gaping mouth, and flushed cheeks to memory.

The tips of your toes grazed the ground as Link lowered you delicately before he not so delicately spun you round and slammed your front against the wall. The sudden impact knocked what was left of precious air out of your lungs and your brain roared, the organ already doubling over from a pleasure-kissed lightheadedness.

Calloused hands connected with the soft of your inner thighs, flowing it open and dragging a finger, slow and deliberate, across your clothed folds. You all but screamed his name, his previous warnings to keep it quiet muddling with lusty bliss. Wet, hot breaths on bits of your exposed back sent your eyes rolling into your head and you balled your fists at the thought of him taking you here and now.

You felt his weight leave your form and you waited with growing impatience for him to be rid of his clothes. Your eyes were still squinted shut as you whined, trying to push your rear against his tented crotch hungrily.

He's... further away than you expected. How big is this alcove...?

You looked over your shoulder, confusion meddling with your arousal, and caught a glimpse of blonde swaggering away from you as if nothing had happened.

Heart thundering, legs quivering, blood rushing, your bent frame crumbled in on itself as your knees gave out from under you.

"LINK!!!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Safe to say by the time dinner rolled around, the two of you could hardly look at each other and any attempts at making small talk felt like Ganon shooting his piss into your eyes. Any semblance of Link in your brain always ended up with him either railing you or you fucking him until collapse.

You looked up from your plate to grab the water pitcher before you and you could feel the darkness glimmering in his eyes, heavy with lust and frustration. Your thighs grinded against each other, hoping to satiate the growing need to stimulate yourself even if only a little.

You were one look away from pinning him onto the dining table and fucking him until he was a babbling, crying mess under you. Unbeknownst to you (not really), Link happened to share those same sentiments.

Hylia, you were so horny for each other and your skin felt aflamed by his absence. But... you'd be lying if you said you didn't find a sick pleasure in watching you and him squirm under each other's heavy gaze, seeing how long either of you could last before one of you bites the arrow and takes the other.

"(F/N)."

You jolted at the sound of your own name and looked up into Link's blown-out pupils and barely parted lips, moistened with spit. Not a word was spoken between the two bodies; a velvety darkness took hold of your chest and you absently felt your feet march over to your husband before locking lips with his in messy desperation. Your hands explored the warmth of his skin, rubbing the back of his shoulders, his face, his chest. With a small tug on your wrist, you fell into his lap and he steadied you with level hands. You rolled your hips against his aching cock, teasing his stiffness with every sultry sway.

His lips latched onto your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the soft flesh, feeling your body shiver against his. He moved in time with your motions, rocking you faster against his dick that sweltered with desire. His chair skitted back and his hands flew to your ass, squeezing the soft, plump flesh as he carried you to the bedroom. Your legs hugged his torso to keep yourself up as he blindly fumbled with the doorknob, impatience ticking both your features.

He swung the door open, the shockwave from the sudden slam knocking down whatever trinket or picture was hanging on the wall. You paid little mind to the clamor of knick-knacks as Link tripped onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress and you adding to his weight. You braced your hands on the sides of his head while his found your hips, fondling and diveting the soft flesh.

Languid lips moved with his before traveling towards his jawline and down to the soft skin of his neck, lapping it with butterfly kisses. A shaky breath all but stopped at the base of his throat as he saw you trail red, hot pecks along the dip of his shoulder and down to his chest, assaulting his lust-stricken senses with a campaign of pleasure. You looked up at him teasingly, swirling the tip of your tongue about his perked nipple.

Link's eyes fluttered close as a breathy sigh left him, his hips bucking wildly against your own. He tried so hard to catch his breath, but every roll, every graze, everything flared a white flame throughout his core. His mind was slipping, he could feel it, but by the gods did he do his damnest to savor every little sensation he would feel tonight.

Your hands quickly discarded your undergarments and flew to the hem of your shirt, tossing it aside like you've done hundreds of times before. Link followed suit, doing the extra step of lifting his hips (you still on top) to shimmy his pants off. He kicked the offending fabric off the bed and you both sighed, enjoying the pleasurable tingles the cool night air brought to your hottest spots. You lifted yourself and slowly rubbed your folds all over him, drinking in his dirty mewls like it would be the last thing you tasted. Something dark snapped into your husband's eyes as a hand left your hip to cruelly flick your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A whine lapsed out of your mouth and you bobbed your dripping cunt up and down his tip. A growl countered your moans while his thumb rubbed long, teasing circles about your clit. Nails dug into the swordsman's thighs as tears clouded your vision.

"You want to play this game?" His eyes read. "Fine. Let's see who wins."

You're unceremoniously pushed forward by his limbs and your chest lands squarely atop his face. Link's muffled moans hummed between your mounds and you sighed, head lolling forward. You scooted your hole closer towards his propped thighs, dipping just past his angry head and taking a little bit more of him in your cunt. You whorled your hips slothfully, savoring the way he rubbed every corner of your entrance. Teeth dug punishingly into your nipples and worked the small buds until they were raw and red from abuse. A hot, sloppy tongue swirled around the aching buds, matching the pace with your hips.

It took everything in you to not let out the sweet cry bubbling in your chest as you pulled and twisted his soft golden locks, determined to break this man before he broke you. Without any warning, you rammed your cheeks against his thigh, taking all of him in one go; you both choked as you stretched to accommodate his length and girth while your caving walls sent him to cloud nine.

Link was the first to cry out, with you following shortly after. Still remembering the game you were playing, you slid off him almost completely before slamming yourself down again with a force that got him seeing stars. Knuckles tightened around your waist and nails dug into your supple softness as the man beneath you writhed with untold pleasures. Your throbbing heat begged you to wait, to adjust to his size, but you were so focused on getting him whimpering under you that you brushed the sensual shock off.

Link adjusted himself slightly to naturally hasten your rolls; you also adjusted yourself in a bid to level the control you had over him. You decided your gait, not him. Soft hands went to pry the battle-worn digits off your side but were promptly met with a sharp slap over your wrists, gluing them to one spot. As he positioned you slightly angled above his pelvis, his smirk countered your falling expression as you began to realize the compromising position you were in.

Not wasting any time, Link roughly entered your hole, keeping you right where he wanted you for maximum pleasure. His sudden entrance elicited the sweetest calls for his name and you threw your head back, barely keeping yourself together. Try as you might, you couldn't wriggle free from his grip (though he loved watching your futile attempts, your countenance contorting into the prettiest, sluttiest faces). Your hands twitched and convulsed, wrists writhing uselessly against your side as he hastened his thrusts.

"Nngh! Link! S-Slow--please!"

"Hm? What was that?" He asked coolly, exertion inapparent in his voice.

"T-Too fast--Link, I c-can’t--"

"Oh, but you took me so well last night. Besides, I'm having fun watching you struggle like this." He snickered, watching the rebellious glint in your eyes dull into something lustful. You were trying so hard to pry from his grasp. You thought you could break him first? How cute.

Link's head rolled into the bed as he felt you stretch and expand with every thrust, locking his cock in a vice grip. Gods, you were so tight. And warm. And wet. He cursed under his breath as he watched your juices pool at the base of his cock. His clasp unknowingly began to loosen.

Slackening just enough for you to wiggle free. He gasped, no longer feeling your convulsing hands under his and before he knew it, those same hands that got you under his control were pinned above him. You laughed something wicked as you sat promptly on his dick, stilling his wild pistoning. He felt small under your piercing gaze, like some prey item looking up at its predator. You leaned down and nipped his ear lobe, a soft whine escaping him.

"My turn." You purred, rolling against him painfully slow and giving your abused cunt a much-needed break. A groan rumbled out of him the instant he stopped pounding your insides at unimaginable speeds. You fought the wrists that tried to pull away from you and locked his lips with yours, tongue and teeth mashing sloppily against the other. Frustrated at your own slow pace, you took your rolls up a notch--fast enough to keep his mind from imploding but not enough to give it the release he craved.

"Please, just a bit faster..." He sputtered, pleading.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be giving orders?" You cooed. "Don't rush me."

Your hips lulled into a steady rhythm that was a step faster than what you were previously going. Link turned into a fumbling mess under you, filling your bedroom with his begging whines and gasps for more. With one hand still pinning him down, the other grazed the various scars that littered his abdomen. Your tongue swiped your bottom lip while you watched the outline of his abs convulse with each pleasure-stricken breath. Every one of your touches, every one of your kisses, every sloppy squelch your wet hole made as it took him whole fogged his mind with ecstasy.

"Mm! You've been so good... Letting me use your cock..." You whipped your hips forward, grip tightening around his wrists. The Hero of Hyrule's pathetic little whimpers traveled to your ears and you looked down at the whining man squirming underneath you, tears prodding his eyes.

"You like that? Hm? You like it when I bounce on your hard, hard cock?" You accentuated each word with a snap of your hips. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please... Please, let me touch you--feel you... I need it, please..."

"Not yet darling," you kissed his tears away, giggling as more came to replace what was lost. You felt him swell inside you and you moaned. "Fuck, Link..."

You leaned back, resting on his thighs for support, and gyrated your hips in a circular motion. Link was practically screaming, begging, imploring you to grab you, hold you, anything just please--

"Nuh uh uh," your sing-song voice dripped with a lusty venom. "The moment you lay your hands on me, I stop. Got it?"

"No!" Blue eyes shot up to meet yours, mortified. "Don't stop! Whatever you do, just don't... Ah... Don't stop..."

You fucked and fucked this man until your thighs clung to his with sweat. Link pressed his face into his bicep and his hands balled into pale fists, shaking as he fought the urge to overpower your teasing self and ram his throbbing cock against your sweetest spots.

"You look so pretty, Link... Gods, absolutely gorgeous." You gingerly pulled his face to look at you. "Don't hide from me, I want to see you..."

You sunk your chest into his as your hips lifted and snapped down with a lewd squelch. He let out a noise between a gasp and a yelp and he bucked his hips up to meet your cunt. You hovered in the air, low enough for Link to slip in and out of you but high enough where he couldn't immerse himself wholly. A race of obscenities slurred out of his mouth.

"P-Please (F/N)... Can you come down a little lower for me? I need you... Need you wrapped around me..."

"Mm... I'll think about it." You laughed darkly as Link strained harder to fill you up with his cock. Eventually, his breathing became haggard and you felt his heart thunder in his chest. He threw his head back and chanted your name like something holy. Your lips left bluish welts all over his alabaster skin and you pulled away, admiring your masterpiece.

"So pretty... All right, I'll give you what you want..." You began lowering your hips--barely at first--while Link sang your praises, feeling the lower half of his dick be squeezed by your tight, wet walls.

"You fill me up so well, baby..." You rolled your hips faster, faster, faster. "Fuck, you're so big...!"

Link's abs suddenly crunched up and you yelped, slipping into his lap. Rough hands pulled you off him and spun your body round, faceplanting you into the soft sheets. He scuttled you closer and poised your ass in the air, taking a moment or two to appreciate your hole pulsating with want. His torso dipped into the arch of your back, sending hot breaths up your spine and into your ear.

"It's been fun, but..." He licked the sensitive spot under your ear, melting into your moans. "I'm gonna make you mine now, okay?"

Two fingers curled into your needy hole and thrusted at mind-numbing speeds. You screamed into the fabric bunched at the foot of your bed, fists balling uselessly in response to his merciless onslaught. As if your mind wasn't wrecked with enough pleasure, another hand snaked around your waist and dipped down your pelvis, kneading your swollen clit. The simple motion almost got you coming undone by his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you regret teasing me for so long." He hissed, his sexual frustrations turning into something sadistic.

As quickly as they entered you, his fingers pulled out and rubbed your slick all over his throbbing cock. He pained to feel your tightness vice around him, but Link was a patient man.

"You're such a tease, you know that? Gods, look at you... You're making a mess of our sheets." He hummed, rubbing his twitching head along your folds. "Whatever will you do to make up for this?"

"A-Anything!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could catch yourself. "Just please--please fuck me already!"

He chuckled evilly, prodding your entrance deeper. A whine wrenched from your throat and you tried pushing your cunt against him, but you were kept firmly in place with his hands.

"Begging's a good look on you, darling," He sang sweetly. "(F/N), you're gorgeous... Spread out so beautifully for me..."

Whispers laced with obscene praises overtook your senses as you felt your husband slowly fill you up, making sure you felt every sweet inch seep into your core. No words could explain the unholy heat that spread from your core to your fingers, tingling them with mind-rocking sensations. You felt his pelvis against your ass and you both let out a pent-up sigh.

Not a moment later, his hips snapped to life and you were completely at the mercy of the Hero's thrusts. Your breasts spilled into his hands, a wave of soft flesh lapping the other side of his palm with every forceful thrust. The other hand reached for your abused folds and rubbed your clit, each swirl more feral than the last.

"So good... So good for me... Your body was made for me..."

You were sobbing at this point. Shaking. Screaming. All for your beloved Link. He fucked every sense of coherency from your mind, filling your brain and cunt with nothing but him. He straightened his back and burrowed his fingers into your hips, admiring the little crescents his nails left behind. The air behind you stirred and the burn of a slap seared into your bouncing cheeks, lodging a pained whine in your throat. He rubbed the swollen handmark, loving the red that grew to settle on your skin and traced your relatively unmarked back that was practically begging to be marked by him.

He started with gentle kisses and tonguing here and there, gauging your expression (or moans) for discomfort. A high-pitched mewl acted as permission for him to continue. He followed the natural curve of your spine, teething the soft flesh and suckling so contently. He initially took his sweet time marking you, but the thought of his bruises painting your skin spurred him faster, rougher.

He bit the back of your shoulder and dragged teeth and tongue to your neck, his home. You felt him breath deeply, no doubt getting drunk off your scent and the smell of sex that clung to the air. You suddenly felt a hand burrow into your disheveled, sweaty hair and he pulled you up, pressing your body flush against his. The modified position allowed him to reach even deeper and at speeds he hadn't gone before.

Digits wrapped about your chin and neck, prying them sideways to make way for even more hickeys. Each mark still wrought your skin with a heat you could never get used to, no matter how many times he claimed you. Moist lips covered the shell of your ear as a husky whisper wormed through your thoughts.

"My cute lil' wife... You're taking me so well. Making me feel so good... Do you feel good too? Are you drunk off my cock yet?"

Some messy confirmation stammered out of you as lidded (E/C) met hooded cerulean. The imperceptible knot in your gut began tangling itself into tight ribbons. You were getting close.

He pulled you into a messy kiss raptured with delight, losing any form of standard structure as tongues met and coiled around the other in an intoxicating dance. You were no longer yourself, turned into a mere plaything by your loving, adoring husband. He chuckled at the dazed look in your eyes, nuzzling into your cheek.

"I love you so, so much..." His hand on your clit moved faster and faster. "Come for me, okay? Can you do that for me, my queen?"

The all-too-familiar tension grew and grew in your lower abdomen; your head lolled downward, bopping your nose clumsily against Link's. Your hand wandered to the top of his sopping-wet fingers while the other snaked around his neck. He balanced your forehead against his and locked adoring eyes with you.

"Don't look away... Look at me. I want to see your slutty face as you come..."

His velvety purr was the last push you needed to fall the over edge and into the sweet, white abyss. A scream you didn't recognize sang into his ears as you poured your juices all over his hand, your cunt shaking from the magnitude of release. The delightful twitches shot him over the edge and his eyes fluttered shut, pure unfiltered bliss kissing his features as he brimmed you with his seed.

All the strength in the Hero's legs sapped, you both fell backwards into the plush sheets, sweat and slick binding your limbs into a messy pile. Spent exhales intermitted with each other and neither of you moved, locked in warm, satisfied catatonia.

"I've never..." He breathed out with much effort, "Came so hard... In my life..."

"I think I... saw the gods." Exhausted laughs spilled from the both of you and you felt his loving gaze. You looked over at him as he tucked your sweaty locks behind your ear.

"Makes sense. You're absolutely divine, after all."

A weak slap to his bicep and a chortle.

"Must you tease me?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth." He rubbed into your neck and sighed, feeling the post-orgasm sleepiness weigh his eyelids; your consciousness was already waist-deep into slumber. In the moments leading up to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep of your lives, he drew you closer and treated your ear with a low, tired whisper.

"I love you, (F/N)... Thank you for being mine."

[cobragardens]

Red & Yellow Can Hurt a Fellow:

Color Symbolism in 1941 (Part 1)

(Plus Bonus Sundry 1941 Observations)

"Nazi Zombie Flesheaters" is such an interesting title, isn't it? You don't need to say flesheaters if you've already got zombie: it's redundant. It's like the title was chosen by someone unfamiliar with very basic zombie tropes. Also fwiw "Nazi zombie" is an anachronism: zombies did not exist in the popular consciousness before George Romero's Night of the Living Dead in 1968. I feel like maybe an angel titled this minisode. There is evidence both that the Metatron fucks with the story and that the flashbacks are Aziraphale's memories, so my guess is it's one of them.

***

In "The Colors of Crowley" I make an effort to evidence that crimson red is both the the color that symbolizes Crowley to Crowley and also the color that symbolizes passionate romantic love.

In light of that, here is this tiny beautiful moment:

As they did to each other in 1793, Crowley is sending a message here to Aziraphale with his clothes, so let us dwell on it.

Crowley's tie has Aziraphale's colors on it--white and blue-- in a design that connects two points (through a larger, dark point between them), one above and one below.

And Crowley opens his jacket with a flourish and shows Aziraphale the tie.

So first we we get this beautiful gesture of opening a covering and exposing a hidden, brighter, truer self beneath it, along with the metaphorical implications of exposing the heart and the guts, the snake showing its vulnerable red belly. Then the tie says, I like you. I'm wearing your colors. I want to be connected to you. And Crowley doesn't just display that message by opening his jacket, he then calls attention to it by straightening the tie.

Aziraphale gives no outward sign he has received this message. But.

There is so much red in this bookshop tonight.

The bookshop structure is brown and tan, with bright yellow in the back rooms (just as Aziraphale always has fear in the back rooms of his mind). But in this flashback there's a red carpet on the steps in front of the door, a red carpet on the floor in front of that, a display of red books on the circular tiered stand, a pile of red books in the corner, more red books on the windowsill behind Crowley's head, and the red velvet chair that Crowley's sitting on.

Here's the other side of that room, i.e., what Crowley is facing:

The walls of the bookshop are, again, brown and tan, but there's a red rug, red brocade on the front panel of the cashier's table, two red-upholstered chairs, and a red-stained chest of drawers Aziraphale is mostly blocking, plus another red thing in the right corner behind the stepladder that I can't even identify but that looks like the same velvet as the chairs. That's a determined effort to cram in as much red into a brown space as possible without actually taking a paintbrush to anything.

There are other metas showing how Aziraphale takes pains to make the bookshop into a welcoming place for Crowley [link if I find them again]. Just as likely imo his love of red and gold in soft furnishings is to remind himself of Crowley because they don't get to see each other very often.

But the books Aziraphale would be constantly rearranging, and buying more of, and possibly even occasionally selling when it can't be avoided; and bibliophiles do not generally organize their books by color. I therefore suggest two things are happening simultaneously here: on the Doylean (authorial) level, the set dressers are using the red notes in these backgrounds to symbolize the passionate romantic love Aziraphale has just realized he feels for Crowley; on the Watsonian (intra-story narrator) level, Aziraphale's feelings are "coloring" his memories.

This red as symbolic of Aziraphale's feelings for Crowley is not subtle. It starts immediately after his epiphany about those feelings--I mean literal sparks fly--

--and it does. not. let. up.

Note the other colors in the (brick red) dressing room besides red: blue, white, and off-white, Aziraphale's colors. There are even white and off-white feathers, indicating these are the angel's feelings we're being shown.

Brief digression. I've listened to this line several times now and for the life of me can't hear the final -s. I suspect Crowley may in fact say "Chalk up a win for the side of the angel," i.e., Aziraphale, which definitely makes Aziraphale's reaction of giddy delight track well, but I don't have a decent pair of headphones, so if someone would be willing to verify whether I've caught a Moment or just have romance on the brain, I'd be very grateful. [Update: I've got one confirmation so far that Crowley says "angels."]

Anyway. Note the splashes of blue and off-white surrounding Crowley, indicating all this red (he's sitting on a red velvet chaise btw) continues to be linked to Aziraphale's feelings for him. This whole narrative is drenched in Aziraphale's passionate romantic love.

Until this moment:

Now something really interesting happens. For the first time in the scene (I went back and checked), a bright spot of canary yellow suddenly becomes visible in the frame.

It's a jar of ostrich feathers, dyed bright yellow, on one of the dressing tables. How do we know it's meant to represent fear?

Because it already has done.

And remember how yellow is specifically fear of the head offices?

Look who shows up.

Now suddenly the camera shoots Aziraphale from a different angle, and yellow appears in the frame here, too--more fear.

The yellow feathers remain visible between Aziraphale and Furfur for the remainder of the scene.

So that's one gif and 18 stills I've shown you thus far in this essay about how the use of red in and yellow in this minisode is consistent with the use of red and yellow throughout Show Omens and is being used in a symbolically meaningful way, right? I mean they come down pretty hard on it.

So it's very interesting, in terms of colors, how the minisode ends.

Which I will talk about in Part 2!

[aris-ink]

hii ari! i hope you are doing good! make sure to take care of yourself <3 your step bro fics are such faves of mine , omgg you are such an amazing writer <33 if you are doing requests, could you please write about step brother jungkook and same age reader , where the reader is sad or crying for some reason and jk ends up comforting her thru f*cking ?

hi! 💕 tysm, I love you and yes please 🥺 this wasn't very specific so I hope it's close to what you wanted <3 take care of yourself too angel <3

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: allusions to violence (not towards the reader), allusions to depression, pseudo incest, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of fingering & oral sex, praise kink, rough sex (but also very soft somehow bc jk is a total simp in love), creampie

Rain trickled down the windows of your bedroom, tapping rhythmically against the glass and blurring out the night. You felt blurry too, distorted, cheeks stained from tears, the wetness stuck in your eyelashes. Grabbing your face, Jungkook tried to kiss it all away. A tinge of color spread throughout your bones. The blurriness seemed to dissolve, clearer thoughts and sensations emerging. His warmth seeped into you, melting away the frigid numbness that had encased your soul.

He moved forward, knees bumping against yours, kissing you so desperately there was not an inch of space left between your bodies and not an ounce of air left in your lungs.

It wasn't always like this.

Usually, Jungkook took his time with you, relishing in every shallow breath and every little twitch of your limbs, sucking on your neck until it bruised. He liked to switch between finger fucking you in his lap and burying his face in between your legs, until you quivered under the sheets and his tongue made you forget your parents were sound asleep in the other room. Drunk on you, he used your mouth like a toy, praising you all the way through it, thighs tense and hard dick twitching in your throat.

There was no time for any of that tonight, though. You just wanted to feel real, wanted the heat and the weight of his body pinning you down, holding you together; and as always, Jungkook was there to provide. His hands were all over you, palming your ass before he pushed you down onto your bed, lips refusing to part from yours. He unclasped his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans, aching to be inside you, to take all your pain away and leave behind nothing but his marks. You received no warning and no time to prepare; your soaked underwear was pulled aside, and the next thing you knew Jungkook filled you up to the brim, groaning lowly into your mouth.

You arched beneath him, gasping, your cunt clenching so tightly he broke into sweat. With a quiet grunt, he pulled back out, cock pulsing and leaking; only to shove its entire, thick length back inside, wasting no time in setting an aggressive pace.

You squealed, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for support, legs wrapping around his waist for no more than a moment before the force of his thrusts made them slip back down. Even so, there was no escape from his powerful frame trapping you beneath him. Not even the clothes, messed up from being tugged at, seemed to create any barrier between you. You could still feel the heat of his skin bleeding through the cotton of his t-shirt, and each ripple of his muscles as he fucked you. The rest of the world was mist; the mattress groaning beneath you, the ticking of the clock that signaled your parents would be home soon, the stress and the weight of every long day dragging on. It became nothing but a cloud ghosting through your fingers, too close to the ground to bother you. Up high, the only thing you felt, heard and remembered was Jungkook. His tongue entwining with yours, the hoarse moans bordering on whines, barely muffled by his kiss; and the hot, white rapture coiling deep in your abdomen, spreading through you like a fever.

How selfish it was of him, to drag you down into the shadows where you did not belong. And yet they seemed kinder than the harsh, blinding light you were expected to walk in, welcoming and understanding of your sorrows. And sometimes, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you'd decide to leave one day and make a home with someone you didn't have to be ashamed of loving. Someone much less twisted and much more deserving of you. Someone who didn't need to stain their hands with blood out of a monstrous fear of losing you.

Hopeless, he ended the sloppy kiss, eyes dark and blown out when they looked into yours.

"Pretty," he choked out, swallowing down a whimper. "So pretty. Love you, love you, love you- fuuucck-"

The way you clenched around his cock made him pound you faster, the sound so wet and lewd he couldn't stop twitching inside you. He had a feeling your hips were going to get bruised, and with the way you clawed at his back and moaned his name, god, he hoped they would.

"Come with me," he breathed, voice shaky, ringed fingers grasping your chin.

You mewled, nodding your head, incapable of providing any other answer. Pressing his lips to yours, Jungkook used his free hand to hold on to your thigh, digging into the soft flesh.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

The soothing promise melted into a deep groan, the thread he was hanging on snapping unexpectedly when your cunt squeezed him tighter, gushing onto his cock. He stilled abruptly, letting the velvet heat of your walls massage him through his orgasm, emptying himself inside you completely.

A sigh.

Not bothered cleaning you up, he disconnected himself from you just to get undressed. Even if he had the energy for it, he was much happier knowing you were full of his cum, sated, your pretty pussy wet instead of your pretty eyes. He knew you had classes in the morning; he did too, and you both needed some sleep. He also knew he couldn't stay in your bed, because soon his father would walk in through the door, your mother following right after.

But just as much as Jungkook didn't want to leave you alone, he didn't want to sleep without you either. It was two am when he sneaked back into your bedroom, doing his best not to disturb your rest.

You stirred anyway, curling up to him as he wrapped his arms around you, his chin finding rest on the crown of your head. Wide awake, he laid in the dark, holding you close to his chest.

Tap tap tap.

It was still raining. His lips brushed against your hair as he glanced down at you.

"Baby?"

You hummed so softly he almost missed it. He ran his fingers down your thigh, like touching you eased his aches too, made spring bloom in the bleak winter of his own bones.

And it did.

"I wish I could-" he tried, then paused. So many words, so many languages, and yet nothing felt fitting enough. "... Sorry I can't love you the way you deserve," he whispered. "But I'll love you the way you need."

There was no reply; only the ongoing sound of rain and the softness of your even breathing. He didn't mind. He pressed a kiss into your forehead and closed his eyes.

Some secrets and promises were better off left in the dark, too.

[chipadequeso]

hi so i posted a drawing just now and heres a long post under the cut on my design choices If you were curious . or you can just look at this image for the basic color motifs

Ok. hi. waves

overall its 100% obc + motf oobc based etcetera If you know me you know this is Always basis for everything marvin trilogy i draw

detailed descriptions + other things linking characters together that arent covered by the Image:

marvin dresses like shit but there's Some cohesion there keeping it together. his family shares his warm colors; mendel uses his browns a little differently, and whizzer doesn't share his pallete at all

trina's favorite color is pink :) there are literal articles of clothing that are tied on her, one is red for marvin and the other is green for mendel. as the story goes on she would probably swap this and have a green tichel instead

trinamarvin have similar shades of pants/skirt, and jason has the mix of their yellow and red as an orange on his arms. travel travel travel from side to side!!!

^ on this note jason has things from his 4 parents and theyre all strangely layered all together

ie both him and whizzer have white over the rest of their clothes

whizdel and whizzvin are the only combinations which don't share at least one color, but:

whizdel have light/dark blue contrast and complementing red-green

whizzvin blue yellow contrast babyyyyyyy yeaaaahh boyyyyy!!!!!!!!! they wont agree

whizzer's got the most unique color palette also the least direct connections to everyone else: only trina, who wears a tichel paralleling his ascot and ties them back to marvin, and jason

trinamarvin's shoes are the same, each their corresponding hair color; mendel wears something most similar to marvin's shoes but he gets silly with it; whizzer gets to have shoes that stand more. he's cool; jason's got sneakers! and theyre whizzer colored because whizzer has his own whole deal with running

^ jason trina and whizzer all have red around their necks; mendel also very specifically doesnt have it

mendel and jason Dont have belts or anything resembling ones. this was deliberate but honestly theres not meaning to it

so yes. marvins setting the base the others generally interact with; trina tries to be plain; mendel is goofiest; jason is still figuring things out; and whizzer outsider themes Save me. whizzer outsider themes. save me whizzer outsider themes

ok That is all thank you. small bow

[obaex]

dying to tell you - jj maybank

summary: after a normal beach day takes an unexpected turn, jj has something he needs to say.

word count: 3.7k

tw: 🦈

a/n: inspired by real events that happened to professional surfer mick fanning in 2015 - it is wild to watch!! (see above trigger warning before taking a peek!)

It was the perfect beach day.

You pulled off your flipflops and the bottom of your feet and your toes were tickled by the warm sand. You could hear the woosh of the waves rushing to meet the shore and receding again, a familiar melody. It was early, so the beach was quiet but for the waves and the occasional call of the seagulls flying overhead as the breeze kicked strands of your hair up around your face and made the seagrass in the dunes shake. You smiled to yourself - home for you was this place and the person next to you. You snuck a glance at JJ only to find the same smile on his face, his surfboard tucked under his arm. The beach, and its overwhelming sense of calm, peace, rightness was a love you both share. Your friends were running up ahead of you, dragging coolers, chairs and more surfboards, but the two of you hung back, walking side by side, enjoying the moment. JJ reached out and tangled his fingers lazily in yours and you squeezed back.

A few other locals dotted the shore and several surfers bobbed in the sizable waves. This part of the beach was a revered locals spot, tucked far enough away from the hotels and tourists to remain untouched by their noise and disruptions.

You helped set everything up before unfurling your large blanket, pulling off your clothes and collapsing on top if it, ready to spend the entire day squeezing every bit of sunshine and vitamin D you could into your skin. You loved the hot weather, the way the sun's rays baked ten times hotter off the glinting ocean, the way your skin would feel salty and sticky by the end of the day. You would live here if you could.

The boys were eager to get in the water, haphazardly chucking their backpacks and tearing off their shirts, John B and Pope making a beeline for the water as Kie chased after them yelling something about sunscreen, a lost cause. JJ eyed the water eagerly but his eyes wandered back to you, outstretched in his favorite bikini, the shape accentuating every curve of your body and the color amplifying your tan skin and bright eyes. He wrestled with his choice for only a second before flopping onto the blanket beside you, eyes glimmering mischievously as he reached for you. He couldn't keep his hands off of you on any day, but you looked so tantalizing he couldn't help himself as he pulled you into him and you giggled. His lips found yours and you were immediately lost in each other, lost to the world. Sarah took one look at you both and rolled her eyes. "Every time" she muttered to herself as she walked away to give you some semblance of privacy, wanting to be salty but secretly so stinking happy that the two of you finally got over the stolen glances and dancing around each other to go from friends to more than friends.

He tasted like peppermint from his toothpaste, salt and sunscreen as pushed his tongue in your mouth and you ran your fingers through his tangled blonde hair, a small involuntary moan escaping you at the feeling of his body crushed against yours, his muscular arms around you. JJ responded immediately, and without missing a beat, he lifted you off the blanket, and began walking back towards the Twinkie, never breaking your kiss. "JJ!" you laughed in surprise.

"Can't make noises like that without me wanting to do something absolutely indecent to you, sweetheart. M'taking you back to the Twinkie to spare everyone on this beach the show of a lifetime."

"We just got here!" you said, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. "The boys are waiting for you, we can pick this up later, promise." You pressed your lips to his cheek, sealing the deal.

With a resigned sigh, he placed you back on your feet in the sand, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as his eyes searched your face, the flirtatious energy lingering but something deeper now running under the surface of his expression. He cupped your face, running a thumb gently over your cheek and his lips parted like he was going to say something. You looked at him inquisitively, unused to him being so serious. As he met your gaze, he stopped himself and smiled warmly. You wanted to ask, wanted to know what he was going to say, but as his lips found yours again, your brain scrambled.

You had been together for a few months but neither of you had said those three little words. Big words, really. You had felt them for a long time, longer than you'd even been together, but you were still trying to navigate this whole thing. Your feelings were overwhelmingly strong but what you had with him felt so special you didn't want to disrupt the balance. The words were on the tip of your tongue, dangerously close to spilling over, like your body's involuntary reaction to his proximity; when you fell asleep in each other's arms, each time you hung up the phone and every time he kissed you and then gave you that look, that smoldering, soul-crushing, heart-squeezing smirk that he was giving you now. And then he was off, peeling off his shirt, grabbing his board and running towards the water, leaving you breathless.

Kie and Sarah made their way back to you as JJ crashed into the waves. They shared knowing glances at you and made sneaky comments. They loved to tease you even though they were your biggest supporters. The boys could surf for hours and that was fine for the three of you, it gave you much needed girl time to catch up and discuss all the things the boys would roll their eyes at. You were comfortably seated in your chairs, facing the water and passing around fruit and snacks chatting idly as you watched the boys surf. They were spread far enough apart in the water to give each other opportunities to catch the waves. It amazed you to watch them surf. You didn't know a lot about surfing, but you knew JJ was good, very good. You could see it in his practiced confidence on the board and the ease with which he navigated each wave. You loved to see him so happy and in his element.

You had turned your attention back to Sarah's story when you heard a loud splash. You had been coming to the beach your whole life, your mind and body in tune with every kind of noise and this one was not one you had heard before. It wasn't the splash of the waves, the splash of children playing, the splash of a surfer at the end of their run, this was loud, aggressive... foreboding. Your eyes scanned the water fast enough to see JJ seated and bobbing alone on his board, his back to you as he faced the oncoming waves before his head snapped back to look behind him as a large fin crested the water.

You were on your feet before you knew what was happening. It was probably only seconds but it felt like a lifetime, like one of those dreams you have when you're running but don't actually go anywhere, your feet pounding the sand, your lungs burning as you shouted for John B and Pope, JJ never leaving your sight. JJ's eyes found yours momentarily before the large fin resurfaced and he got knocked off of his board and you couldn't see him anymore.

JJ didn’t think he could ask for a more perfect day as he bobbed in the waves, feet dangling in the cool water beneath his board. In fact, ever since he had gotten the courage to tell you how he really felt, heavily aided by beer, his friends, and an unrelenting pounding in his chest every time you were close to him, it was like his life had gotten exponentially better.

He stared into middle space as he ran his thumb over his lips, deep in thought at the feeling of yours pressed against them, and reveled in the fact that he could still taste you. He didn’t know how he went without you for so long, now he couldn’t get enough. He loved you. He knew he did, and he’d almost said it to you. Today, and about a hundred times now, including the night he first confessed his feelings. He knew it then. He’d known it for awhile. In truth, he was dying to tell you, dying to get it off his chest. He almost word-vomited it on a daily basis, when you curled into his chest as you fell asleep, every time you scrunched your nose and bit your lip when you were focusing, the way you looked at him when he kissed you, eyes glazed with desire for him. Goddddd, he thought. But a part of him was still insecure. What did he ever do to deserve you? In what realm of possibility could you love him back? He was deep in thought when heard a loud splash behind him that snapped him back to reality as chills ran down his spine.

He knew before he saw the fin. He had been in the water when other surfers spotted sharks, and he John B and Pope did occasionally get that unexplainable sense of foreboding that pulled them out of the water, the intangible surfer’s sense that something simply wasn’t right and the risk wasn’t worth it. That feeling washed so quickly over him now that it felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He turned to see a large fin breaking the water behind his board as a dark shape moved beneath him, and that’s when he heard you. He turned to see you running towards the water and met your eyes just as the dark shape crested the waves and he was knocked off his board, into darkness.

John B saw you running towards the water and his first instinct was to laugh. You weren't unathletic but he'd never seen you move that fast before. He'd wanted to laugh until he heard the tone of your voice as you called his name. It wasn't joking, it wasn't fun, it was pure terror and his brain began piecing the puzzle together as he saw Sarah and Kie running towards other people on the beach, calling them out of the water and as you pointed desperately at JJ. John B turned his head quickly enough to see his best friend, the one person that had been there through every high and every low alongside him get knocked off his board by a tailfin as a large shape loomed in the water and he crashed into the sea.

He could hear Pope shouting at him but his heart was pounding and the blood rushing in his head made everything sound like he was underwater. Pope was paddling towards the shore.

"We have to help him!" John B cried, his voice high-pitched with emotion, knowing already that their efforts would be fruitless. What were they supposed to do? As far away as he was, he was already shaking as he tucked his own limbs onto his board, like this thin piece of fiberglass would do anything to protect him. He had seen the size of that shark, they were fucked.

JJ swam quickly to the surface, his body pulsing with fear, trying to get a sense of his surroundings, wanting to know what was around him but terrified to find out at the same time. He crested the surface, searching for his board, for any lifeline before deciding it didn't matter and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He began swimming strongly towards the shore, but panicked at the idea of the shark attacking him from behind so he stopped and turned around, frantically searching the water around him, kicking his legs and trying to swim backwards. He couldn't see a thing. He was hyperventilating and as he tried to suck in deep breaths water filled his mouth, causing him to cough. He continued to swim backwards, his eyes never leaving the dark water.

You had never felt as helpless in your entire life as you did standing on that beach, screaming, screaming for JJ, for John B, for Pope, for God, for anyone to intervene as your eyes searched the water for him, stomach roiling and mind churning with the worst possible outcomes. When you saw his head emerge from the waves, you began to run into the water.

"What are you doing?!" Kie shouted, exasperated as she threw her arms around you to pull you back.

"I have to go! I have to get to him!" you shouted back, trying to wrench yourself from her grip as you gestured to the waves. Wasn't if obvious? JJ needed you. Your whole heart was out there alone, bobbing in the water alongside an eight-foot shark. You wrestled in her arms, eyes never leaving the water as you watched him swim, heart catching each time a wave crested and you momentarily lost sight of him. He looked okay? Could that be possible? Was the universe that good? That he could look death in the face and still come back to you? Suddenly he stopped swimming for the shore and turned around, looking back in the murky depths, trying to backpedal, to backstroke. Did he see something? Was it coming back?

John B and Pope caught up to you both and Sarah put her arms tightly around John B as you watched. The group was stone silent.

Finally, it was too much for you, you shoved Kie off of you and sprinted into the water despite her shouts and the gasps of the crowd that had gathered. You were about waist-deep in the rough current, getting rocked by each wave when JJ finally turned to see you standing there, wading towards him.

"N-NO!" he shouted, motioning you back, moving as quickly as he could to force you back into shallower water, but his limbs were sluggish and tired and the current tugged him deeper. "GET OUT OF THE WATER!" He shouted, surprised at the anger and fear in his voice. You jumped slightly at that, never having been the object of JJ's anger before, but you didn't listen, you didn't care. You needed to know he was okay more than you needed to be okay yourself. You met him in chest-high water, your body crashing into his. He held you tightly, he wanted to enjoy this moment, but his brain and his body were still tightly wound in survival mode as he tugged you forward with him, needing to get you to safety, needing to know you were okay more than he needed to be okay. He wouldn't feel good about that until you were both firmly on dry land. When you were in ankle deep water, your friends converged on you, pulling you both into a hug as the small crowd that had gathered clapped and cheered, murmuring with disbelief at what had just occurred.

Everything thereafter was a blur. The beach day was over, no one wanting to spend any more time here after what had happened. Your friends buzzed around you, packing up the coolers and chairs and walking back to the Twinkie. You didn't leave JJ's side, didn't bother getting dressed or picking up your blanket, you stayed tucked into him, with his arms wrapped around you and he couldn't have been more grateful for the feeling of your body pressed to his, grounding him, a constant reminder that he was safe. The car ride home was mostly silent, the radio scratching in the background as JJ sat hunched over, his head in his hands, your head on his shoulder. You caught John B's eyes in the rearview mirror from his spot in the front seat, where he shared a brief, knowing smile with you. He's here, he's with us, it said. It's going to be okay, and I'm glad he has you.

By the time you got back to the chateau the mood was shifting slightly. There was still a heaviness in the air, thick with all that could have been, but the fog was parting and JJ couldn't stand the tension anymore. "I'm sensing a real heavy vibe right now" he said jokingly. "I don't know about y'all but I could use a fucking drink" and with that everyone cheered and his face lit up in a smile.

The night passed in typical pogue fashion with beers around the bonfire. Everyone was eager to shed the events of the day and relax, yourself included. You joined in on the fun but kept one eye trained on JJ, tracing his every move with your gaze. You told yourself it was to make sure he was okay, but a part of you couldn't stop staring, afraid that if you looked away for too long he would disappear again under a dark wave. He hadn't left your side, a hand resting on your thigh, an arm around your shoulders or tugging you to sit on his lap. He was always handsy with you, but this felt different, like you were a lifeline, a buoy he didn't want to let go of. You were in his lap, your head resting against his with his arms around you, his fingers tracing patters on your leg when he nuzzled into your ear, pressing a kiss along your jaw. "Hammock?" he whispered and you nodded, smiling as you hopped off his lap and the two of you made your way to the secluded spot amidst catcalls and whistles from your friends.

He settled into the swinging fabric first, holding it steady for you to crawl in to lay beside him. Your bodies fit perfectly together as the hammock swung gently back and forth, your head tucked into his neck, your arm around his chest. You felt him breath a deep sigh as his arms tugged you impossibly closer to him and he planted a kiss on your head. You turned to look at him and met his eyes, midnight blue in the starlight as he looked down at you.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. A simple question that had ten other questions behind it.

He nodded sincerely but didn't say anything. You had been hoping for more. Hoping to talk to him about this. If he wasn't going to say anything, you were going to have to break the silence.

"Jayj, I-I was really scared" you said, your voice quivering a little as you spoke. "I'm so glad you're okay. All I could think as I watched you out there was what I was going to do if something happened to you, I was out of my mind."

"I gathered that when you were sprinting into shark infested water while everyone was running out of it" he said, smirking as he pinched your arm playfully. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood and that maybe he didn't want to talk about this, but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone else, you didn't think they'd understand.

"I'm serious, JJ. I guess I don't know how to explain it, I don't have the words for it. It was more than just the idea of not being able to reach you, of losing you, it was the idea of all the things we wouldn't get to do together. Like never having another bonfire night or taking a ride on your bike, or w-waking up in your arms or g-getting to k-kiss you or --" you could have kept going but your tears bubbled over and JJ's heart broke at the sight of you unravelling in his arms. He was holding himself together as best he could and he knew you were too.

"C'mere pretty girl, it's okay, I'm okay" he said as he wrapped you deeper in his arms and your tears left wet marks on his shirt.

"I'm sorry Jayj" you said, trying to collect yourself. "I know I'm probably blowing this out of proportion--" and hearing you apologize was the last straw.

"-- You're not" he said softly. "I felt the exact same way." He sighed. He didn't want to relive it, like maybe if you didn't talk about it, you could pretend it never happened.

"Really?" you asked.

"100%" he replied. "When I turned and saw you before I got knocked off my board all I could think is how far away you were and what I would have to do to get back to you. I was going to wrestle that thing if I needed to." You both laughed at that. "But for real, I know what you mean, I had the same thoughts. Even though I was absolutely shitting myself, it was like flashes in my head of you and all the things I still wanted to do and experience together... all the things I should have said..." he paused and fidgeted a little.

"Hey, look at me" he said finally, putting a finger gently under your chin and tilting it towards him. He smiled and met your eyes, wiping a tear off your cheek. "If I was shark bait today, my biggest regret would have been not telling you how I felt, how I feel. I-I love you. A lot. A whole hell of a lot. I have since before we were together. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and my last thought before bed. You're the girl of my damn dreams Y/N and I never want to do life without you. You're it for me, gorgeous. Full stop. No one else." He said it with more confidence than he felt as it came pouring out of him, relieved to finally have it off of his chest.

Now he was desperately trying to read your response. She's smiling, that's a good thing, right?

Yes, you were smiling. Grinning from ear to ear as you listened to the boy of your dreams absolutely gushing over you. You were speechless for a moment, grasping at the words to say, words you'd wanted to say for so long.

"I love you too" you said finally, "So much, JJ" you were able to eke out before he crushed his lips to yours.

ps: sharks are friends and are so important to our ecosystem and our lil' planet! you are more likely to get bit by another human than you a shark (fact), more likely to die from ants, elephants, hotdogs and texting than a shark attack (also fact), and they only bite because they are curious, they do not want to eat you (also fact). so, be kind, be respectful, support sharks. #endrant

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @m-indkiller, @maybankslover, @sickyrat

[greatwyrmgold]

When was the first 3D video game published? Trick question, this is a post about how "3D video game" is a meaningless phrase.

In 1984, King's Quest: Quest for the Crown was published. King's Quest was marketed as a "3-D Animated Adventure," even though it looked like this:

At first glance, it looks like any other low-resolution 16-color adventure game of the pre-EGA era. But it has one revolutionary feature that sets it a step above its peers: You can walk behind things.

To be clear, that's basically it. There's not even sprite scaling or anything; King Graham is the same size whether he's close to the "camera" or not. Modern gamers would probably find it a bit ridiculous to say this game has a "camera" at all. But you can walk around in that green field, and you can go behind the tree or the castle tower, and those things would hide the part of Graham's sprite behind them—and you could also walk in front of them!

Well, if you didn't fall off the bridge. Why did Roberta Williams never put handrails on those things?

Anyways, the next game I'm going to mention is Wolfenstein 3D (1992), another game which marketed itself on cutting-edge 3-D technology.

You can see a lot of graphical improvement between these two games set in castles, and not just because Wolfenstein has thrice the resolution and 16 times the colors. The sprites can be scaled with their distance from the camera, for instance, and the backgrounds aren't static flat planes. They're dynamic flat planes, capable of warping as your angle to the wall changes.

In some ways, this is as great a leap over King's Quest as King's Quest is over Zork, or at least Mystery House. But is it really 3D? It's still just a bunch of distorted 2D sprites being drawn to the screen. There's nothing really 3D going on in the computer. It's no Super Mario 64 (1996).

SM64 is among the first popular "real 3D" games, with models and polygons and stuff. And it is, again, a great leap above Wolfenstein 3D. It doesn't distort 2D sprites to mimic 3D shapes; it shapes 2D textures around 3D models. Totally different! It has polygons and stuff!

Now, I'm not 100% sarcastic about that. There are some technical differences between how SM64 handles its textures and how Wolfenstein and other Id shooters handle their sprites. But those differences aren't so much "doing something completely different" as they are "doing the same thing with fewer limitations".

And it would be absurd to claim that Wolfenstein graphics have more in common with KQ1 than with SM64. It would be even more absurd to say that SM64 has less in common with W3D than it does with older and newer titles using what people commonly consider 3D technology.

On the left we have Battlezone (1980), an arcade title which predates KQ1 as much as W3D predates SM64. It has little in common with Wolfenstein's graphics, not needing to distort any kind of 2D image file to mimic 3D, because it's just wireframes.

From a graphical perspective, it has more in common with KQ1 than W3D; both use vector graphics. (Bitmap images would take too much storage space for KQ1.) In fact, you could probably make a compelling argument that KQ1 and Battlezone's vector graphics have more in common with each other on a technical level than they do with Wolfenstein's 3D sprites or SM64's 3D models.

And on the right...it's either leaked security cam footage from Area 52, or The Callisto Protocol (2022). I can't explain what separates it graphically from the other games in this post, because there are so many new systems—systems which require specialist graphical engineers to understand, let alone create or use. I could rattle off some technical terms like subsurface scattering and cloth simulations and soft-body deformation, but I don't understand these techniques on anything but the shallowest level, and TCP has elevated them to another level.

I know it sometimes seems like graphical technology stopped having Big Improvements some time around the seventh or eighth console generation, but it kept going. The difference, I'd argue, is that the improvements have been more spread-out, enabled less by advances in hardware technology and more by learning how to use those advances, distributed throughout a hardware generation rather than concentrated at the start.

Anyways. The point I'm trying to make is that modern games make every prior game in this post look ridiculously primitive. SM64 was impressive in its day, but Mario is rendered with less than a thousand triangles, separated into several rigid components. And his face is just a couple dozen flat polygons with a texture printed on them. Even modern indie games often animate eyeballs with more polygons than Mario's entire body, with the eyeball and eyelid and so forth all being separate models with textures and shaders bringing them to life. Giving them more depth.

Making them even more 3D.

There is not a firm line between 2D and 3D. Wolfenstein 3D is more 3D than King's Quest I, and Super Mario 64 is more 3D than either of them, and Skyrim more 3D than that, and The Callisto Protocol more 3D still. If someone dismissed Doom as not being "real 3D," they're drawing an arbitrary distinction around one of many graphical innovations that made gaming graphics incrementally more verisimilitudinous. That's all.

[goldrosh]

in the last sugar rush post from 2023, @accio-victuuri asked us to list our top 5 cpns from last year but since I'm late I thought on doing a post. thank you for those recopilatory monthly posts, btw! they're very helpful and when you read them you also relive those beautiful moments. and overall for always keeping us updated about everything going on with our boys.

so here's my top 5 cpns from 2023

the inner mongolia saga: I decided to call it like that for everthing that happened from the moment xz went to film there. it started with yb's first selfie of 2023 and all the clowning about him perhaps visiting the loch set, the infamous black cloth, all the speculation about him owning a leica camera, the confirmation of him owning a leica camera, xz's birthday post that also had him posing with a leica camera, the camping pic, and everything culminating with yb's own pics taken in inner mongolia. honestly, september and october were such busy months to being a clown, I love how everything just developed little by little and fell like pieces of a puzzle.

the suspicious change on xz's filming schedule: when ybo reported that yb won't be able to participate in the star of the one and only promo period, everyone got worried, since when yb takes days off while sick? the next day tho, some reports came in; after days of going to film at a certain early time, xz was going a little bit late. "interesting" said every turtle in the world, "let's see how this continues". and boy, it did continue, casually until yb's recovery. a happy coincidence.

anniversary?: when we all thought nothing was toping the inner mongolia saga, november 19 happened. and to think everything started very innocently with yb updating his douyin and then everything scalating into the possibility of them sorting out the seriousness of their relationship one november 19... I honestly loved how everyone started to bring up years of clues and how it just made sense.

wedding outfit: this one is very self explanatory, their weinbo night outfits that strangely looked like wedding outfit. I would have loved to see them both walking out the red carpet but we all know how weinbo loves to self sabotage I mean I enjoy when they do that but not that night! I like to think that the reason why they chose those outfits is because their first weinbo night is also called "divorce night" and, after years of not attending the same event, they wanted to give us a wedding night. yes, I am that much of a clown, thank you.

ybo's birthday post: this one hit me so hard that I still tear up whenever I read "yb, the sunset is very beautiful". to most, that post it's just a very well written birthday wish, but if you're like me and believe xz wrote it then knowing that these two boys love each other so deeply is reason enough to warm your heart. "time does not have a pause button, yet you seem to hold the password for the occasional pauses in the world". cry with me 🥲

honorific mention to: THE hat (yb made it hard to ignore lmao), everything is lovely and its promo (at first I wasn't trying to read too much into the colors that were used to promote the ep but then the bone necklace appeared and changed my mind), mysterious driver (just so you all know I'm totally sold on this) and overall this year that seemed to have them together for longer periods of time.

[eqt-95]

HELLO AND HAPPY FANFIC WRITER’S APPRECIATION DAY!

i was suddenly reminded by @makicarn’s tags on your post of this OTHER set of tags by @makicarn:

#more importantly#quinn#does mrs. fischer also think sam is a harlot

🤓🎣

what a FANTASTIC question.

the short answer is 'no, mrs. fischer does NOT think sam is a harlot.'

but not because her reckless treatment of clothes doesn't fall under 'harlot activities' because boy oh boy it does.

instead, it's simply because mrs. fischer doesn't know sam exists. unlike kara, sam knows what it's like to live out of her car, to rub pennies together, to hustle. things like paying for tailoring, while totally within her tax bracket now, is still something she can't bring herself to do. when ruby was starving, the last thing on sam's mind was getting a patch fixed or a button replaced. which means she's gotten especially good at repairing her own clothes.

even more of a reason is because sam is freaking the heck out that all of her clothes are magically buttonless. she's... hang on let me just:

- - - - - -

"Ruby, if you aren't ready in the next five minutes I am going to toss that phone in a blender and drop its sad remains over the balcony-"

"I'm up, jeez," called Ruby's sluggish voice from behind the door. "Why choose violence so early?"

Sam shoved her toothbrush back in her mouth, a tiny smirk of victory made less effective by the drool of toothpaste on her chin. She traipsed her way into her bedroom then into her private bathroom then further into her walk-in-closet. It was still so much space to get used to.

Toothbrush hanging idly in her mouth, she whipped through hanger after hanger of blouses. Blacks and greys and creams and off-whites... maybe Ruby was right. Maybe her wardrobe did need a splash of color.

Though What it needed now though were less empty hangers.

Which was... odd.

She looked again. The click of hangers rapping against each other faster this time.

Odd.

Again, faster. Her eyes glanced to her hamper.

Odd.

It was overflowing. It was never overflowing.

She huffed and marched over to the nest of clothes. A yank sent an avalanche of fabric to the ground. Sam held up the first garment.

Odd.

The second, third, and fourth were all the same. All missing buttons. All frayed with broken threads. All in a state Sam certainly would have remembered leaving them in.

She did not have time for this today. She had meetings lined up and lunch with Lena and Ruby's recital and... the list was endless.

It didn't matter. It was a problem for later. She dropped the shirts back onto the ground and reached for the closest blouse on the rack. Disgarding her toothbrush and giving her mouth a quick rinse on the way to her bedroom, she didn't think twice about the ease with which the blouse came off the hanger. Or the way it fell open when she dropped it over her head. It only raised a red flag when her fingers grazed the edges of fabric and felt... nothing.

Sam looked down, a breath caught in her throat.

Odd.

So odd that it sent her tearing through her bathroom cupboard, ripping bottles of moisturizers, make-up, and cleaning supplies onto the floor.

"Mom? Mom we're gonna be late-"

"Just a second," she called from the floor, fingers shaking, thread wavering, needle trembling.

A prick. An instinctive hiss. A quick press to her mouth.

She pulled her finger back; examined; scowled.

There wasn't a mark. There wasn't any pain at all.

Odd.

[baileypie-writes]

hii again!! Could i request another velvet x fem reader? Maybe the reader could have a softspoken but sweet personality that compliments velvet's, and reader likes cutesy things and dresses cute. And in the fic velvet and reader have been together for a while and its them spending their anniversary together! Velvet used to be more reluctant to be affectionate but is opening up more and getting more comfortable with it, and reader is really clingy but understanding, and both are affectionate even if its in their own way. I hope this made sense! Thank you so much i love reading your velvet fics 😭🩷

A/N ~ Sure! And thanks for liking my stuff🩷 Hope you enjoy!

~More Affectionate~

Velvet x Fem!Sweet!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Female, sweet, soft spoken, cutsey

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: It’s you and Velvet’s six month anniversary, and you realize how much more comfortable she’s gotten with showing affection.

Warnings: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow.” You breathed out at the sight of your girlfriend, Velvet.

She looked stunning. Well, she always does, but especially now. Her fashions sense has always been the best, but she really knocked it out of the park with this outfit. She was decked out head to toe in purple and gold. Her dress and makeup were so sparkly, you could go blind. Luckily, your eyes were used to this level of brightness, as it was normal for Velvet.

She strutted over to you, fully aware of the stares she was getting from others. She was a celebrity, so it’s impossible to not be looked at. She ignored it this time though. The only person she cared about was you.

“Hey Velvet!” You said, a bit flustered. One hand fiddled with the hem of your frilly dress, while the other did the same with the strap of your bag.

“Hey (name).” Velvet said cooly. She flipped her ponytail from over her shoulder, to behind her. She was smirking, looking at the color of your flushed cheeks.

“You look beautiful!” You complimented.

Velvet chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” She said confidently. You assumed she wouldn’t say anything else. She wasn’t the most comfortable with showing affection. But she surprised you. “Same to you. That color looks good on you.” She avoided eye contact as she said this, and her cheeks turned a bit more pink.

“Oh, thanks!” You said, and Velvet smiled.

She held out her hand for you to take. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, and took it. Then the two of you began walking to your destination.

The purpose of this date was to celebrate you and Velvet’s six month anniversary. It’s a big milestone, so what better way celebrate than to do both you guys’ favorite thing: shopping? And to be sure you wouldn’t be interrupted, Velvet brought a bodyguard. He’d stay at a good distance, so you two would have your space. But he’d prevent anyone from running up to you guys, or even taking pictures from afar.

~~~~

You made it to the entrance of the mall, and you opened the door for Velvet. She thanked you, and you immediately clung back onto her arm. Velvet sighed, but not of annoyance. She didn’t mind your clinginess.

The first store you went to was full of things that peaked your interest. There were tons of cute clothes and accessories, you felt you could die from happiness! Velvet watched with a smile as you circled around the store, picking up and looking at various things. Each item, you made sure to hold up and show her. Velvet made sure to give an honest opinion on each of them. But none were really negative, as she thinks anything in this style looks good on you.

At the checkout, your arms were wrapped around her. “Thank you so much Vels!” You said happily.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. We’re just getting started!” She leaned down for a kiss, which you gladly accepted. It was a bit of a surprise though, as Velvet wasn’t usually the one to initiate them, especially in public. Though, lately she has been getting better at showing affection, much to your delight.

~~~~

The sun was setting, and you and Velvet just got back to her house. The bodyguard carried most of the bags inside. But you insisted on carrying at least some, felling bad for him. After all, he was a bodyguard, not a servant.

Once everything was inside, you and Velvet cuddled up on the couch. You decided to put everything away the next day, since it was getting a bit late. With the TV remote in her hand, Velvet flipped through channels, trying to find a movie to watch. As she did so, you sneakily snuggled a bit closer to her. She noticed, and you expected her to just leave you alone. But instead, she copied your action. She wrapped an arm around your waist, and scooted closer. She then rested her head on yours, before continuing looking for a movie.

You smiled. Looking back to when you first started dating, Velvet really didn’t show any physical affection at all. You figured that it made her uncomfortable. But fast forward to now, she’s gotten much more used to it. While she’s still not the most affectionate, she shows her love in her own way. The two of you have come so far in the last six months, and now you can’t wait to have another go by so you can celebrate your one year anniversary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[theoceanoasis]

Soundrod romance and mechpreg set with Soundwave looking like Tfp soundwave

Its an au where Soundwave is an older mech in his late thirties while Rodimus is in his early twenties. Rodimus interns to work at Soundwaves company during his pre heat where his hips are wider, his tanks are puffy and his chassis feels tight and heavy.

Soundwave notices all of this and he wants Rodimus. He wants the mech the moment he saw the picture on his application and read his name.

He knows this mech is beautiful and he wants him all for himself.

He lets Rodimus start in two days, much much faster than any job Rodimus has ever seen but the upped pay is incredible and so he starts in two days getting the paperwork for Soundwave and working up close with him.

Soundwave makes close contact a norm between the two that Rodimus always blushes at and its about a month into working together that Soundwave brushes his finger tips up Rodimus’s thigh plating making him quiver does Soundwave offer him a deal.

“Rodimus: work in a more private setting for Soundwave. Benefits: exceeding current status.”

And Rodimus…he takes it.

Meets Soundwave at his home, wearing simple but beautiful jewels that entice Soundwave and now the two are in Soundwave’s bedroom tangled between the sheets where they accidentally trigger each other’s rut and heat leading to a long week of fragging.

When they finally come back down Rodimus wants space and Soundwavw reluctantly gives it but respects Rodimus’s boundaries.

Rodimus is stuck between wanting to run from all the love Soundwave was pouring into vs wanting to stay and accept every ounce of love the mech so freely gave both in his touch, optics and whispers.

Rodimus getting sick at work pushes the conversation when they find out he’s sparked.

A spin of 50 shades of grey basically lol

He sighed forcing himself to get up. It was his first day of work as a secretary for the Decepticons. After his last job closed down he'd been searching for work all over. Wanting to find something before the summer ended and school started.

It wasn't easy with every job he applied for denying his application because they wanted him available all day every day. Which wouldn't allow him to go to school. Other jobs simply threw his application away because he was an Omega. It was annoying and when he first came across the application for this job, he'd been doubtful that he'd get the job.

Even though it was a secretary job it somehow felt like he needed a degree and at least ten years of experience.

When he'd gotten an interview he'd been surprised and even more surprised when he got the job. Especially because they wanted him to work as soon as possible.

The best part about the job. That he'd been pleasantly surprised to hear was how much he'd be making. The application said he'd be making little more than minimum wage, but his updated wages were a lot more and he couldn't complain.

After work today he was going to buy the fancy ice cream to celebrate and work on some of his art.

Getting to the large building he tried not to feel intimidated. Walking inside he looked around shifting in discomfort because everyone was dressed in nice suits and dresses. Making him feel underdressed. Vaguely he wondered if there was a dress code as he walked to the elevator. Which would take him to the floor he'd be working on.

He looked down at the nicest pants he owned cringing when he saw a few paint splatters. His shirt looked okay and it was the nicest one he owned in a color people said looked good on him.

He glanced at the elevator doors watching as he slowly rose. Glancing at his hands he picked at the paint he'd gotten on them and hadn't managed to wash off yet. It seemed like he always had paint on his hands and he wondered if that was going to be a problem.

This was the same clothes he'd worn to his job interview and they didn't say anything, so he guessed it was fine.

Although the person he'd be working for seemed to be high in the chain of command and he had no idea how his boss would feel about his clothes.

The door opened and he stepped out. Looking around he realized there was only one office on the entire floor, with one desk outside of it.

He became even more nervous because this was the top CEOs office. He had no idea he would be working for the person in charge of the entire company.

Looking at his clothes he cringed worried that he'd be fired on the first day.

"Hot Rod?"

He looked over surprised to see his recruiter coming out of the office, in a suit much nicer than when they first met. This one practically screamed money and was probably more expensive than everything he owned.

"My name is Soundwave."

They shook hands and for a moment it seemed like he was holding his hand far longer than necessary. Although he dismissed it. Because it was probably nothing and he was just overthinking because he was nervous.

"This is your desk."

Soundwave led him over with a hand on his lower back. He shivered because the scent of Alpha seemed to surround him.

"Make yourself comfortable. If you get any phone calls tell them to call me back later."

"Okay."

Was all he could say when he realized Soundwave was his boss.

The Alpha walked back into his office and he looked around getting himself comfortable. Even though Soundwave already left his scent seemed to linger and it made him shiver.

He got to work learning how to do his job since he'd never been a secretary before. Soundwave was always patient with him and helped him out.

He was also understanding and even interested in his art. He'd ask about his newest work and had even bought a few paintings.

One of which was hanging in his office currently and always made him blush with pride whenever he saw it.

After the first day he'd come to him asking about his clothing. He'd given him an embarrassed look admitting that it was the nicest thing he owned and promising to get something better after his first paycheck.

Soundwave had clicked his tongue telling him that it won't do. He'd given him a nervous look worried he was going to be fired when he pulled out a company card for him to use.

He gave him a surprised look and promised to be careful.

"I trust you."

He blushed and felt a tingle up his spine as he took the card buying a few business outfits.

A week after working there Soundwave invited him to a company dinner with investors. He'd given him a confused look until he told him that it had been in the job description when he applied.

He'd nodded even though he didn't remember it saying that. Although then again he only partially read it, because he didn't think he'd get the job.

"We will go shopping later. Both of us need a new outfit and I want it to match."

He nodded not wanting to argue with his boss who knew what he was doing.

Later the two of them went to a fancy store with the most expensive clothing he'd ever seen. Looking at the price tags he gave Soundwave a worried look.

"I can't afford this."

"Don't worry the company will be paying for this."

He nodded feeling uncertain as Soundwave talked to the sales associate who was also a seamstress.

They measured him to get his exact size and Soundwave told them exactly what they wanted. They promised to deliver by the next day their eyes twinkling with excitement when they looked at him.

Afterwards Soundwave took him to lunch and he was again brought somewhere very expensive. It was so expensive they didn't even show the price tag.

The entire time he was clumsy and embarrassed feeling as though he didn't belong amongst the rest.

Soundwave had noticed his discomfort and asked what was wrong. He lied saying that he was thinking about the art homework he had to do before school started.

Soundwave had immediately begun asking about art school in the hopes of distracting him and it mostly worked which he was grateful for.

The next day they went to pick up the clothes they'd be wearing to the dinner. The seamstress had them try it on and he had to admit he looked good. They did a really good job and when Soundwave saw him he looked speechless. Which made him giggle slightly.

"You have outdone yourself as usual."

Soundwave complimented unable to take his eyes off him and the seamstress waved him away.

"It was nothing. You are the one who brought me a beautiful model."

He blushed and Soundwave bought their clothes. He carefully took it off not wanting it to get ruined before the dinner.

Later that day Soundwave picked him up in a fancy limousine that his neighbors were gawking at. He felt embarrassed as he rushed to the car.

He could see Soundwave staring at the apartment building he'd just come out of, which looked like it should be condemned. He winced knowing his neighborhood was far from the life Soundwave lived.

Luckily his boss didn't say anything and instead coached him on what to do at the dinner.

When they arrived people came to greet Soundwave who introduced him as his date. He blushed feeling strangely happy when he said that.

They talked to a few people and he was surprised when Soundwave introduced him to potential buyers. Who ended up buying some of his work much to his excitement.

Since working for Soundwave it seemed like his art had taken off. Which was a big deal for him and Soundwave would always give him a gift to celebrate his accomplishments.

He was an amazing boss and he loved working for him. Sometimes he'd have problems with his Alpha coworkers. Who'd try and flirt with him when he was doing his job and Soundwave would always step in and deal with them. Making sure he didn't have to deal with a hostile work environment. Which was something none of his bosses in the past would have done.

They'd probably tell him to enjoy the attention and to stop being so stuck up and go out with them.

Soundwave would always make sure he was okay afterwards. Worried they tried to do something to him. It was so sweet and he found himself falling for the Alpha, which felt so cliche and he knew Soundwave would never feel the same way.

He was his boss and maybe even a friend but that was it. He could have anyone he wanted and he doubted Soundwave would want someone like him. Who was nothing more than his secretary and a sad excuse for an Omega.

Especially compared to all the Omegas who would come to his office to flirt. Always giving him dirty looks as they leaned against Soundwave trying to get his attention.

Every time he saw Soundwave with someone else he'd always feel a spike of jealousy. Even though he didn't have a claim on him and never would.

He knew it was only a matter of time before Soundwave chose one of those pretty, wealthy, prefect Omegas and made them his Conjunx.

Just the thought was unbearable and he tried to focus on his work. He needed to forget about Soundwave otherwise he was going to end up heart broken.

After the company had a successful month Soundwave took him out to celebrate. The two went to his favorite restaurant which wasn't anything fancy, but the food was good and Soundwave didn't seem to mind.

After the first time they went to a fancy restaurant. Soundwave had toned it down a lot. Even letting him pick places he liked. Which he'd been embarrassed about at first. Constantly apologizing if it wasn't up to his standard but the Alpha never complained. Instead he seemed happy to hangout with him and the two of them talked about all sorts of things.

He was talking about his lasted artwork which Soundwave had been the inspiration behind. Not that he'd tell him that. When he felt a hand on his upper thigh.

He shivered blushing a little as Soundwave leaned closer. His scent making his tank tighten with need. While his spark pounded rapidly in his chest.

The more they worked together the more familiar they'd become. Until Soundwave touching him like this felt normal.

"I have a proposition for you."

He gave him a curious look wondering what he was going to ask.

"I... Need assistance at home and since you've done such a good job helping me professionally. I was wondering if you wanted to help me with my home as well. I promise the reward will be more than what you receive now."

"Can I think about it."

Soundwave nodded pulling away slightly and he found himself shivering already missing his warmth.

That night he went home and thought it over. He knew if he took the opportunity he'd have to cut back on his art. Something he didn't want to do. Especially when he was starting to become successful.

He thought about dropping out of art school but he was so close to getting his degree and after all the work he's done he didn't want to give it up now.

He decided to take online classes instead of in person. Which wasn't ideal but it was the best he could do.

Soundwave's offer was a lot of money and he still has a lot of student debt that needed to be paid off. His landlord was also jacking up the price. Because the fire department came out and told him a bunch of things were fire hazards and that he had to get them fixed. Which in his landlords eyes meant the property had more value and he could charge more.

Before going to Soundwave's house he decided to get a new outfit and treat himself, wanting to look good for his new job. Even if he was still working for Soundwave just in a different way.

He wore some simple but beautiful jewelry he'd inherited, that Soundwave had complimented him on before. Along with the fancy perfume Soundwave got him, as a gift. After he'd made a big sale.

Getting to his house he looked around in awe because it was massive and nothing he could ever dream of affording.

Although his house didn't smell as much as his office. There was still a noticeable scent of Alpha. Which made him shiver with desire.

The house was large and beautiful but it was also lonely. Especially when it was just the two of them. His house should be filled with laughter and little kids running around. He could almost imagine it and was only brought out of his thoughts by Soundwave giving him a curious look.

"Do you like it?"

He nodded unable to lie to him as he looked around his home. Soundwave continued showing him around. One of his arms was wrapped around his waist and he felt his head get foggy, as he was overwhelmed with his scent.

He'd slowly gotten used to it but now it seemed stronger somehow. Looking around Soundwave's home he realized that the Alpha had invited him into his den. With that realization he felt his instincts go crazy.

He suddenly felt hot and much to his embarrassment he felt slick between his legs. Soundwave gave him a worried look asking if he needed to sit down.

He looked up at the Alpha and found himself leaning up to steal a kiss.

It was only for a moment and then he pulled away looking embarrassed and ashamed.

"I am so sorry I don't know what came over me."

He violently blushed as he stuttered over his words and Soundwave wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

"I don't mind."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment and then they were kissing. Their hands roamed their body as they made out.

He moaned when Soundwave stuck his tongue into his mouth and tasted him.

"I can smell your slick."

Soundwave buried his face against his neck right where his mating gland was. He lightly bit around it and he shivered with need.

"Soundwave."

His legs shook and Soundwave easily picked him up.

"I've got you."

The Alpha carried him to his bedroom where the two of them made love. It was so amazing and when he came around Soundwave's knot his heat started.

He remembered Soundwave going stiff above him as he breathed in his scent causing him to go into rut. The next few days were a haze of pleasure and warmth.

Soundwave had focused on filling him with come in order to distract himself from biting his mating gland and making Hot Rod his.

He couldn't do that to the Omega even when he begged so sweetly for him.

If he was going to become his mate he wanted them both to have a clear head.

When their heat and rut cycle ended they'd both spent the day reluctant to leave each other. Tangled in the sheets they made out and cuddled together. Neither of them talked about it not wanting to ruin the moment.

Eventually though what they'd done caught up to them and they were forced to leave their little bubble behind.

Hot Rod was stuck in disbelief and felt uncertain. He didn't want to call their time together a mistake but he knew it had changed their dynamic.

He felt conflicted and needed time to think. He'd been working so hard on forgetting Soundwave and now it seemed like he couldn't do anything except think about him.

Soundwave had been worried when he asked for time off. He told him that he merely needed a break to think things over. His boss had given him a guilty look as he left.

He spent the first few days agonizing over what happened. It had felt so good and he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He felt exhausted and had been having a hard time sleeping having gotten used to Soundwave's scent and presence. When he did managed to sleep he'd wake up in the morning and end up throwing up.

He felt more emotional than usual even when he was coming down from a heat. It felt like everything was making him sick. From certain smells to food he could barely keep anything down.

He thought something was wrong with him and that he was coming down from some kind of virus.

When his symptoms weren't going away he forced himself to go to the doctors.

After listening to his symptoms they made him take a pregnancy test. He'd given them a surprised look not wanting to believe it. Remembering his time with Soundwave he knew there was a large possibility that he was pregnant.

With shaking hands he took the test and nervously waited for the results. Where it was confirmed that he was pregnant. He looked at the test in shock as the doctor told him his options.

He ended up going home needing time to think about everything and process what he'd just learned.

He ended up crying because he didn't know what to do. He was still in school, pregnant with his bosses child. Someone who would never want to mate with him. Not when he could have anyone he wanted.

He was nothing to Soundwave and he already knew the Alpha wouldn't want their little one. It hurt but he should have known better than to sleep with his boss. He should have seen the warning signs that he was about to go into heat and kept his distance from the Alpha.

He had no one to blame but himself. Now he needed to figure out how he was going to raise his little one on his own.

[stonesilhouette]

Thanks For Nothing

Yandere America x G.N. Reader

TW: General Yandereness | Implied Kidnapping | Imprisonment | America feeds you food with a fork so idk | Non-consensual kissing (just for a moment) | Thanksgiving? | Reader is tied up

If you can't tell I'm really bad at adding tw's but I always find it helpful to avoid stuff I don't want to read so I tried my best. Go ahead and tell me if there's something I missed.

Also, I know Thanksgiving was two days ago I randomly got the urge to write this last night. I'm like slightly embarrassed by this but I haven't posted anything in over a year so you get this.

Tableware clinked against wood as it was gingerly laid down by an uncommonly careful hand. The room was well lit with candles flickering shadows across the walls, a large chandelier over top. The table was set with an orange and red color scheme with autumn bleeding into every aspect of decoration. Even though only two would be used, eight seats had been set in nothing but false pageantry. The smell of baking turkey wafted in from the kitchen off the ways. Most of the other food had already made its place on the table, surrounding a cornucopia, reflective only in name. Six chairs, three on each side, were all tightly pushed into the table, ready for the use of no one. The spread was massive and one could wonder how only two people, the only residents of the large house, would finish it all.

Humming came from the kitchen, the voice masculine in pitch. The tune was easily recognizable as the Star Spangled Banner, which was more a feat to hum then one would expect. Some of the high notes came out scratchy and the mumbling of the lyrics did nothing to ascertain any kind of satisfying harmony. Both rooms were pleasantly warm, though the kitchen held itself in a higher regard after repeat use of the oven and stove. Light leaked out through the open windows as it bathed the rest of the house.

It was pitch dark outside and a person coming or going could see no more than fifteen feet in front of them. Not that there would be any extra guests anyways. The building was located in the middle of nowhere, a long, winding road the only gleam of civilization. At one point the property had been a farm, but after the changing of owners, its purpose drastically changed.

The deafening silence was interrupted by repeated shifting, a desperate attempt to move. This sound was picked up by the ears of the blonde in the other room. He stuck his head in the doorway, the cowlick on top denying gravity its rightful dues. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, though you could see none of it. In fact you could see nothing at all. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. All you could do was listen. The man laughed boisterously like you had just said the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry!” He said, knocking on the wall in a way meant to exude comfort. “It's almost done.”

Any chance you had of escape was quickly ticking away alongside that turkey clock, and yet you could do nothing. Maybe he really was the original boy scout because his knots were flawless. Arms bound tight to a chair, any attempts at kicking did nothing to loosen the ropes tying your legs to the chair’s. Your back was flush with the chair, cord tightly wrapped around your torso. You were, in all sense of the word, stuck.

The silk material used to blind your sight was far softer than the harsh twine of the ropes. The same was used to bind your mouth. Any of the tears you had cried had long since dried, making the cloth more uncomfortable and sticky than before. What did you do to deserve this?

Time to ponder than question was quickly snatched away as the retro cooking clock sprang to life. You snapped your head towards the sound, not having prepared yourself for it. Suddenly the smell of turkey became stronger than ever before and you swore you could feel its heat as the man set it down on the table. He lit what you could only assume were candles before approaching you. You visibly shook as he gently removed the blindfold.

Blinking furiously to adjust to the light, your pupils contracted at the heavy light, causing you to shut them closed and throw your head down away from the obtrusive shine. A large hand came above you to pet the top of your head. He kneeled down on one knee, grasping your arm, which was still bound to the chair’s, and gently massaged the skin. He almost didn’t seem real, the light making him look like an angel. Then he looked back up at you, sky blue eyes piercing your own (e/c) ones. Any thoughts of a divine existence were quickly washed away as you stared deep into the possessive pools that were his oculus. The man smiled at you, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fell. He licked the thumb that had made contact with the salted droplet, never breaking eye contact with you. 

He abruptly stood up, shifting his attention over to the extravagant feast on the table. He quickly piled on his own plate, seemingly stacking it sky high, before coming back over to your side and collected your piece of dishware. Moving around the table, he began to fill your own plate, though not nearly as large as his own. He placed it back down next its proper napkin, an orange maple leaf.

The man began to slice apart his pieces of turkey, clearly satisfied with how it had come out. It didn’t take him long to begin gobbling down his food like a hungry soldier on the battlefield. He talked while chewing once or twice in a way that would have made a proper British noble scoff in disgust. Though he quickly quit after he realized that he was eating like such. A look fell across his face that made you think that he might have been told off for a bad habit like that. From then on he ate properly, carefully using his utensils and always chewing with his mouth closed.

From the moment he had brought the turkey in, you had felt your mouth water. You hadn’t eaten anything all day and the food laying out before you felt torturous. You didn’t make a sound however, trying to conserve all of your energy into not bursting into another round of tears. Your stomach on the other hand, had no such qualms, and loudly made its presence known.

The blonde looked over at you, to your uneaten plate of food, and then back to you. He was about to ask why you hadn’t started eating before he realized the obvious. Gulping down the last of his diet soda, of which he had put into a glass with ice to look slightly nicer, he made his way past the table and back over to you.

All you could do was sit there, cursing your stomach and every decision that led you to this horrible fate. Standing at far over six feet, he easily towered over you, causing the shaking from earlier to come back tenfold. You must have looked like a frightened little lamb to the big bad wolf. He cupped your face in his hands, rough from years of war. By now you had begun hyperventilating, shoulders moving up and down in desperate disharmony. You tried to suck as much air as possible in but the gag in your mouth stopped most of the air flow. He reached his right hand farther up your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were any place but here. Any images of tropical vacation were vanquished after he softly removed the fabric. It was soaked with hours worth of saliva and he threw it off to the side on the table.

Properly swallowing for the first time in hours, your lips finally closed. You still shook but had noticeably calmed down as he focused on your lips.

“A-Alfred.” You finally whispered. “W-Why? I don’t u-understand.”

Tears still occasionally fell down and you desperately wanted to hide your face from him with your hands, but couldn’t because of your binds. You desperately searched his eyes for some clue, a hint, anything. But there was nothing there but pure, unbridled, adoration. His face melted into a content smile and he dove in to kiss you with no prior warning.

His lips melded against yours and he furiously attacked them until you opened. The man pressed you farther against the chair, using both of his hands to keep your head in place. His tongue swirled around your mouth, traversing every cavity and frantically tried to keep your own in this cursed dance. He finally parted from you, a string of saliva connecting you until it finally snapped.

Even more tears had begun to form, all threatening to fall at the slightest motion or whisper. Alfred brushed his thumb over your soaked eyelash, clearing your vision in that eye for just a moment.

“Does that answer your question?” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, taking in the smell. “I just love you that much.”

Suddenly reminded as to why he had come over to the other side of the table, Alfred quickly pulled out an empty chair and sat next to you. He unwound the napkin and the utensils, placing all of them in the correct positionings like he had been taught to do. He then pulled the plate towards the edge of the table, carefully stabbing a piece of turkey he had cut apart with a fork.

“Say aww!” He urged, but you knew it was more of a command.

You opened your mouth, feeling completely demeaned by the nature of the situation. He couldn’t even let you use your own hands. Your chewing was slow as your mouth still hurt from the gag. Alfred didn’t seem to mind as he just fed you another piece, repeating the cycle a few more times. Finally it seemed like he had finally gotten enough out of you and stopped, only to be repeated with a different food instead. As you were chewing, he spoke adoringly to you.

“I love you (Y/n).” He said as he continued to dote on you. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

[junhanndee]

what do you think xdh’s opinions/reaction would be of you surprising them with a set of lingerie? do they have a style they prefer or color? hm im just curious 🤨

OOOOOO ANON THIS IS AMAZING !!!! these will be more headcanons of what they think about lingerie but i hope you still like! if you want a fic about any member with this storyline please let me know!

xdh reaction to lingerie

warnings under the cut!

warnings : rough play (?), kinks / turn ons, nothing super hard or like straight up smut. just suggestive ;)

goo gunil

so to me, gunil is like idk very man. if that makes sense. i can see him really enjoying a red set of lingerie. he gives me the vibes that he would be so gentle :( and sweet :( but only for like the first few times. the next few times that the lingerie comes out, its going to get ripped off of you and best bet you’re going to get some sort of punishment for teasing him.

kim jungsu

in my eyes, jungsu, is so sweetie. however. there is a darker side to him. i feel almost the same as gunil, he will be so sweet with you and even “you put this on for me?” he will be so gentle and patient. but. after a while i feel like he would bring out that dark side and fuck you like a slut. for me, the color yellow for him really just does it. seeing you in a thin yellow slip dress or even just a matching set and he will have his lips wrapped around you any second.

kwak jiseok

tbh you would probably get on a nice sage green set and it would be off of you faster than you put it on. gaon gives me very impatient vibes. at the same time tho, i dont think he would complain if you made him wait and gave him a little show iykyk ;). i think something about the color sage green would just have him so turned on. just the way it fits your body and highlights you in all the right places. i can see him wanting to fuck you in it just to take you all in and make sure the money spent was a good purchase :)

oh seungmin

in my mind, ode is classy. i think he would really like something black and sleek. one of his favorite things is taking you out just to buy lingerie. i know he can be shy but i think just seeing you get excited for him to take something off of you gets him going. seeing you wear black even just sends him. ode would be more loving and tender imo. he gives me the vibe to just love all over you and fuck you the way he wants because he knows you’re his :)

han hyeongjun

oh god. shy boy #1. “woah.” *hides face* “am i allowed to look????”

BUT.

there’s also “oh fuck” and “all for me huh”

what can i say i love shy but cocky junhan god pls SAVE ME.

anyways. junhan gives me slowly teasing you vibes? like he slowly takes off each part/piece to reveal another part of you. he likes watching you squirm.

but. shy junhan. he would be like “do you want me to take it off” and “but you look so beautiful” and would most likely fuck you in it if i’m being honest. he just loves the sight of you barely clothed and under him in all the lace and silk. he gives me such lilac vibes!!

lee jooyeon

puppy boy!! i feel like he gives me such blue vibes. he’s such a sucker for a nice baby blue on you. “you look so beautiful oh my god” and “that color makes me insane”

i feel like he would just admire every single inch of you and genuinely make love with you because he just thinks you are so beautiful and that blue drives him crazy!!