#oh or the spooning position would fit them so well

[falllpoutboy]

thinking about what positions alicole are gonna do it in

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn��t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[cherubfae]

Omg hi! I'm a new follower and I just read your piece of the hazbin cast w/ reader having a panic attack and it was so sweet 🥺If possible could you maybe do the same cast of characters but with what they would do if the reader was on their period/period comfort?

𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔡 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 || {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}

tags: fluff, comfort, afab gn!reader, I decided to go with ftm for angel in this to try it out (lmk what you think!!) :3, periods in Hell are worse than on Earth I feel like that fits, suggestiveness in luci's

Alastor

"Oh, dear, why are you curled up on the floor in the fetal position? Are you hurt? I smell blood." Alastor coos in crackling static. He nods his head, listening to you explain despite you being facedown in said carpet. He'll procure a hot water bottle for your tummy, some aspirin, and some bitter, dark chocolate. He'll even go get one of those sugary iced coffees you love so much. Given the circumstances, Alastor may even allow you to touch his ears, but his mindful of his antlers if you know what's good for you.

Lucifer

Oh no, his poor sweetheart! The King of Hell goes full Mama Goose mode (you can see where Charlie gets it from) and hunts down whatever he thinks you may need. He'll create a little nest fort for you, spooning you from behind and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He's also not opposed of other ways of relief. In Lucifer's own wise words, "Bow-chick-a-wow-wow." (As long as you're up for it, he's not opposed to giving Charlie a sibling.)

Charlie

She's on it instantaneously! Running around scavaging all sorts of items from tampons to pads to candies-- she's not sure of your preferences, so she gets all of them! Only the best for her sweetie pie!! Huddles extraaaa close to you in your shared blanket cocoon, feeding you chocolates and giving you sweet nuzzles.

Vaggie

Immediately sends you off for a hot bath while she changes and washes the sheets so that they're nice, warm, and fresh. She also will prepare your favorite pajamas and snacks, digging through some films for one to watch. Vaggie will do what she can to make sure you're well-rested, hydrated, and most importantly; comfortable.

Husk

Immediately goes to the women of the hotel and asks about what sort of toiletries the hotel has to offer. He's discreet about your situation and grateful for their help. He wants you to feel better as soon as possible even if that means your symptoms haven't fully gone away yet! The scent of blood is strong on you and if he can notice you from a mile away, he's certain others have too. So, he creates a little nest for you two, the bar is closed down for the day, and cuddles you close to his chest.

Angel Dust

He'll spoon you from behind, resting his warm hand on your tummy. From what Cherri has told him, this shit's worse than when you guys were alive. Hell really does have a hard-on for torturing people. Angel will be as vigilant as he can, getting you whatever you may need, reassuring you gently that just because you have your period doesn't change who you are as a person nor how you idenitify. You're you, no matter what your body does or doesn't do.

Vox

What's that? Oh, shit, that's when you-- yeah? Oh, okay got it. That sounds like that sucks. Yeah, he doesn't mind grabbing some things for you but he's a bit stiff when it comes to comfort. He knows what it is for sure and he'll do his best. Velvette might tear him a new asshole. He does genuinely want you to feel better, he doesn't like seeing you in pain. He's just a little lost.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[sexydoffyman]

Could I maybe get an NSFW alphabet plz with male reader? Thanks!

NSFW ALPHABET - KÖNIG

navigation

genre: smut

characters: König

A/n: a friend pf mine pronounces his name like qwajnk.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh boy. He doesn't really seem like it but he really fucking likes cuddles. He definitely uses his height to his advantage. (You're getting grounded, literary) He is a little self-conscious after sex. He knows he's big. He also knows he could hurt you pretty badly. Thoughts of you hating him or losing interest fill his head. He just has to grab you and make sure you stay there with him.

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

He loves his arms. You can grab on them, and it makes them seem even bigger than they already are. He likes putting you in a chokehold.

What he favours the most in you are your legs. Thighs specifically. He doesn't really have a reason for it. He just likes them. Let the man get some thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Average texture, not super thick, but also not watery. Hex - f3f5e6 Big man big load. Usually pulls out and catches it in his hand. (He doesn't want to add work by having to clean anything up) He also doesn't really want you to swallow it. He is mature he doesn't need a porn actor who will do anything to satisfy a dude. He'd rather have real sex.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't fit in a fleshlight. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's over 40. Definitely has a pretty big body count. About 27 I'd say. (counting one-night stands) He finally found someone on whom he can use his knowledge on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or the seashell.

When he spoons you he can put you in a chokehold, making you fight back a little. On the other hand, when he bends your legs you won't be able to fucking move.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but not a nerd kinda serious. He just doesn't speak much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps a solid bush on there. (He does make sure to clean it properly) It is not messy. He's got a little thicker happy trail. And he's a pretty brunet down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be pretty brutal both with his actions and with his words. Or he can be soft with both. It depends on both of your moods.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This testosterone-filled man definitely jerks off. Even when you are around (Doesn't try to hide it)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being in control. I mean, can you blame him. He has the perfect body and occupation for it. Speaking of body.

Size difference. Again it just feels right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could fuck anywhere. Even tho he likes it the most from the safety of your bedroom he wouldn't mind a public bathroom or a friend's bedroom. He likes to be sneaky. Has never been caught once.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything.

Do anything he's hard instantly. That's why he jerks off so much.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want it he wants it. Except threesomes. He wants you for himself. Who could blame him when he has such a pretty thing only for him. Why would he share

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He isn't bad at giving but he can use his hands and dick way better than his mought.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way. He loves to be in control and he's got all this raw strength and energy. Why not use it?

He also likes the slow and sensual. Both of you need a break sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd go for them more often, but he doesn't really want to bother you. Another reason for him jerking off a lot.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s always pulling you to the side, finding a place to make you take him. He is obsessed of holding the door to make sure no one gets in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This dude. Bruv can go as long as you can go. He will take you to the stars and back and it’ll take him only a minute to catch his breath.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a fan of them. He’d rather have you on his dick not some plastic. He doesn’t find much pleasure in them either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Based on his mood.

He could play with you as he holds you down.

Or he could be quick about it.

He for sure doesn’t mind teasing you. Touching your thigh is his favourite way to do so.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is dead silent. Sometimes it freaks you out. But if he finds out you enjoy the sounds he makes he will definitely try to add more of ‘em

Slight sighing when he lays his body on yours, little grunts and the occasional “fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into stalking. It doesn’t matter of it’s you stalking him or the other way around. He loves the thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inches abnormaly thick. #e0ae82 base #ba7f68 tip. Slightly curved to the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Boy can go anywhere anytime. Public bathroom, bed, a random fucking room. He’s always thinking of it. Hard 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk a bit afterwards but he will fall asleep like a baby right after he’s done.

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Aventurine Affection hc's

Affection starts out slow in your relationship...

Of course you got the teasing touches and arm wrapped somewhere around you since before you were even dating, but true honest loving affection takes a while to manifest

He's hesitant... Hesitant to commit himself fully when he knows how fickle and fleeting life can be, how unpredictable his life is, with the risks he takes

"Don't get attached" was his one mantra since the beginning, as if scolding his heart for being so naive as to believe this would last

You would get sick of him, if he didn't die first, sick of his floundering and lack of commitment and childish wavering and massive inferiority complex—

But you didn't leave, you didn't push or pressure or guilt...

His first kiss to you was a soft little peck on the inside of your wrist, pressing it against his face as he closed his eyes, searching for the soft beating of your pulse

It was unintentional, really...

His lips just brushed against it with genuine care, and he couldn't help but need just a little more

He couldn't play the action off, couldn't laugh his way out of such a genuine act of adoration, so he leaned into it, peppering a few more

It was slow starting, but he enjoyed your hands

Holding them, squeezing them, pressing little kisses to your palms and fingers, guiding them to his face as he sighed happily against their warmth

Hands were sacred, used for acts of devotion and prayer... He couldn't help but want yours all to himself

Then it was your neck, your shoulders and collarbone

His head fit so perfect there, almost like the space was made for him to adore

Little lingering kisses pressed to your neck, not suggestive or done only for the purpose of leading up to something more, but done in a way that felt like this was the reward, the end goal

Your reciprocation caused a vulnerable feeling in his chest, your lips brushing against his neck, trailing over his symbol of pain and suffering, sparking pleasant feeling in a spot that's only ever experienced misfortune...

His legs were weak, his whole body felt weak at your gentle nature

His affection grew more teasing, more playful

A quick kiss to the back of your neck as his arms wrapped around you from behind, a soft little nip to your ear to surprise you when deep in thought, accompanied by a teasing smile of course

"Oh? Did I startle you~" He'd coo, pressing closer, eyes half-lidded as he kissed the spot to make up for it

His hands sought you out unconsciously

Your lower back, your free hand, your waist, your shoulder, the back of your head...

Even in his sleep he'd reach for you, pawing around as if looking for something missing, restless unless his hand was on your skin

His favorite thing was to have your back pressed up against his chest, his arms draped around you, and his head resting on your shoulder as his soft honey blonde hair brushed against you

It's the perfect position for him to keep you trapped for as long as he wants, happily refilling his energy by doting on you with loving little caresses

You are absolutely going to be alternating on big and little spoon, because he adores holding you close but also wants to feel safe and reassured that you want to love him, too

It also helps with his nightmares, being practically on top of you with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair, stroking in a calming repetitive way...

He's a little more reserved in public, but not by much

You'll still be receiving good luck kisses and reassuring squeezes often, as well as teasing affection

Oh? Did you happen to blush from him calling you his "perfect love"? Well be prepared for a sly grin and an onslaught of verbal affirmation

His beloved little darling isn't ever going to question his devotion, he'll never let you leave feeling unloved, not as long as you're both breathing...

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWELVE

in which you grapple with new emotions of nothing, eddie makes a few bad jokes, and honesty becomes an illusion again.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 3.8k+

→ a/n: half way point, folks! sorry this one is shorter. blame eddie?

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

12:00 ────────ㅇ───────── 24:00

JOHNNY BOY: No photo, no money, right? 

ARGYLE 😎: learn some patience broski 

JOHNNY BOY: It's been an hour and they aren’t answering. They haven’t said anything. I want my money. 

DINGUS: why the fuck are you guys blowing up the chat right now? someone better be dead. 

ARGYLE 😎: the lovers haven’t sent their hourly update. 

ARGYLE  😎: maybe they are dead. killed each other with passion. 

JOHNNY BOY: So what are we buying with that spare 1k, guys?

BIRDIE: oh fuck please tell me they aren’t dead

BIRDIE: did they seriously kill each other? do i need to facetime them? 

DINGUS: @BIRDIE honestly, for once, you have a good idea. facetime them. i would call but… something tells me i need to back off for a while. 

JOHNNY BOY: I take it you remembered that night at the bar? 

DINGUS: oh fuck off (yes. i did.)

BIRDIE: i’m facetiming them now.

DINGUS: great. i’m going back to bed. 

JOHNNY BOY: I think I’m going to buy a new camera with my cut of the money personally. 

—

HOUR TWELVE - 3:00 AM

One of you should have moved.

It could have been minutes, hours, decades later. The concept of time is completely lost on you as you focus on the weight of Eddie lying over you. He’s half draped across your back, bare chest sinking into your exposed skin, throwing the brunt of his weight in the sliver of cushion available to him beside you. His softening cock is still inside of you, the warmth of him is encasing you from the inside out. You match each deep inhale of his with your own, exhaling on the same silent beat. An unspoken moment of synchronicity, letting the weight of the decisions just made truly crawl beneath both of your skins. 

I hate you. 

Good, then this changes nothing.

You wondered if he tasted the sour of his lie in the heat of the moment. You wondered if it was just as metallic on his tongue as it had been on your own. 

One of you should have moved. But it takes the realization of your incapability to truly hate Eddie Munson as you should and the twitch of your body that follows to rouse Eddie. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, finally pulling out, turning to fully fit his body onto the couch rather than on top of you. You dangle a leg and arm over the edge of the sofa, keeping your cheek pressed to rough fabric and your eyes turned from him as you bite your tongue. 

A million words you want to say in the clarity, all lost and slipping between your fingers with time. 

I lied. I don’t hate you. This meant everything. This changes everything. I don’t hate you. 

“Fuck is right,” you settle on murmuring instead. There’s nothing you can say now that can change what’s transpired. It’s over, it’s done with. Rather than staying stuck in the past still in your rearview mirror, you need to focus on the road laid out ahead of you two. 

The two of you lay like that for even longer than you had the previous position, shifting here and there until you both fit comfortably on the lumpy cushions. Side by side, almost spooning, but space left between you. You don’t think Eddie even realizes his hand is grazing soft circles over your thigh, moving on its own accord and sending shivers of comfort down your spine. 

Is the road ahead of you two even paved? 

“What now?” he suddenly asks, breaking the silence you two had been reveling in. You had been in your own head, and you wonder for a moment if he had been as well. You can’t find it in yourself to glance over your shoulder and look at him, to solve the mystery on your own, instead clinging to those grazes of his fingertips still skimming your thigh. 

With an exhausted sigh, you zero in your focus across the room, looking at the clock on the shelves, “I don’t know. It’s already three in the morning, so-”

“Oh, fuck.” 

“What?”

“It’s fucking three,” Eddie is shooting up from behind you quickly, “We never sent a fucking picture.” 

You understand his panic immediate, realization settling as he springs off of the couch, echoing his words with sincerity, “Oh, fuck.” 

In any other scenario, it would have been comical to see a nude Eddie panicked and rushing about his apartment living room. To see him disposing of the condom, to see him struggling to pull back on his sweats and t-shirt before he’s disappearing into his bathroom and emerging seconds later with a blushing face and a wet rag. 

He returns to you in an instant, murmuring the world’s softest apology before he swipes the cold cloth over your sore cunt, making you hiss out in surprise. 

“What the Hell-”

“I said I was sorry!” he defends, tossing the rag to the floor before he’s grabbing your clothes, his clothes technically, and handing them over to you, “Figured you’d want to be dressed before we send the photo.” 

“I-” you stare at the clothes with a contorted face, still trying to brush off the exhaustion that came with the sudden change in atmosphere. You hadn’t even gotten to maneuver the aftermath of it all, pilferage the rubble and bring up the possible path-not-yet-road that you two had to face going forward. 

What did this mean for you two now? What did this mean for the remaining twelve hours?

Nothing, you suppose. Maybe you don’t need to ask those questions, because Eddie already answered them for you. It changes nothing. 

“Thanks,” you numbly say and take the clothes from him. He grabs your phone off the floor as you shrug the clothing back on.

What the fuck were you expecting? 

It was a one time ordeal. It was just a quick fix to get it out of both your systems. Just because you were needy, because you were craving a conversation about it all, didn’t mean Eddie was. There was no difference here between what transpired between the two of you and some random hookup. No feelings, no strings attached. The only difference was the obligation to spend another twelve hours together, if your friends hadn’t already decided their altruistic grace periods had hit their limits. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie grumbles, looking over your plethora of notifications, “Fifty fucking texts. Seven missed calls. We’re fucked,” When you let out a sharp laugh, he looks up from the screen at you, furrowing his brows, “What’s so funny?”

“Can you imagine making it halfway only to fuck up because we were getting along too well?” you snort, unable to help yourself. Twelve hours. You two had managed what already felt impossible, only to screw it all up because you two couldn’t keep it in your pants. Maybe if you admitted that to your friends, they would let the bet continue. You can already imagine Robin’s yips of glee at the prospect. 

Eddie’s worrisome look begins to crack, the corners of his mouth twitching, “I… That would… suck.” 

His voice is wavering, barely able to keep it together and withhold his own amusement as you beckon for him to hand over the phone, both of you sitting back on the couch, thighs pressed together. 

“Suck is one way to put it,” you giggle, barely glancing at the missed notifications, “Seriously. We made it this far. And it’s not like we weren’t together… We were. A little too literally.” 

If this is the closest you two come to talking about it, you can handle that. 

Eddie finally barks out a laugh, “Yeah. Maybe we took the bet too literally.”

“Just a little bit,” you shimmy a shoulder against his, forcing all laughter and smiles and drowning out any worries that continued to persist in your chest. Now wasn’t the time. This was enough. You can handle it. 

Your phone lights up with a Facetime call, making both of you jump.

Robin.

“Oh, no,” you groan, eyes pinching shut. 

“It could be worse,” Eddie notes, leaning into your space. His side presses into yours and it makes you want to die, “At least it’s just Buckley.” 

You shake your head, ignoring the burn he ignites in you with every slight touch still, grumbling, “Right, it’s just Buckley.” 

The two of you had sex. It should be out of your system. There was no need to continue to feel goosebumps raise when his shoulder knocked yours, when his knee slotted up against yours. It has to be out of your system. 

You swipe your thumb to answer the call against your better judgment. 

“Oh my God, you two idiots are alive! I swear to God, we thought you two killed each other! I almost had to go across the hall and have Steve predial for the cops if you two didn’t answer, I-” 

Robin’s rambling begins without so much as a hello. She’s speaking a mile a minute, taking no breaks, no pauses, no breaths, as you stare blankly at the screen where she’s half hidden in the shadows of her dark room. 

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers, eyebrows raising. You watch him through the screen, afraid to turn your actual face towards him. You don’t trust yourself. It should be out of your system, but it isn’t. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk so fast-”

“Fuck off, Munson,” despite Eddie’s effort to keep his voice low, Robin picks up on his words mid-rant, “My point is, we were worried. Why didn’t you send your photo or answer any calls?”

“We forgot,” you supply lamely. You catch Eddie’s fight against a smirk as he coughs over the beginnings of a scoff, and immediately shoot your elbow that’s out of frame into his side. 

Robin narrows her eyes at the screen, “You just forgot? How? No offense, but I can’t see you two getting distracted, especially with each other. We’ve all been under the assumption you just… sit on opposite sides of the room, and pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

Eddie coughs again, followed by a grunt from another pierce of your elbow.

“Have you considered that we might have been sleeping?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m so glad that you’re all-knowing, Buckley,” Eddie says as he composes himself, “Where would we be without a sleep expert?” 

You finally turn your head to glare at him face-to-face rather than through the screen, trying to warn him to back off. Robin could go hours in the ring with Eddie, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to listen to the two banter off each other. He meets your warning gaze with wide eyes, almost as innocent as a child caught in the act. You can’t even stay mad at him – the moment those autumn brown eyes meet yours, soft and gooey and terribly laced with tempting gold, you’ve melted for him. All your defenses fall. 

You need to talk about it. You need to know if he means it.

“What does that even mean?” You ask as you slowly turn your head away from Eddie, “What exactly are we supposed to look like after sleeping?”

“I don’t know. Messy hair, squinty eyes, maybe some dried drool and appearing more… more… caught off guard?” Robin rattles off her list as she stares at them through the screen, shifting around from where it looks like she’s laying in bed, “Actually, now that I’m saying all this outloud, maybe you guys were sleeping,” you and Eddie freeze up in sync. Technically, you two could pass off as the Facetime being a rude awakening in your mutual dishevelment – both your hair and Eddie’s was messy as could be, shirts looking to be twisted from putting them on so carelessly. Hell, at your own detrimental embarrassment, you bet Robin would spot dried drool on your face if she looked close enough. Just not for the reasons she would believe, “Shit, yeah, okay. I believe you guys. You were sleeping. Our bad.” 

Just as you sigh in relief, Eddie’s face blooms with a wicked grin. 

“That or we were fucking.” 

It comes to your attention now that it is very hard to decipher when Eddie is joking. You wonder just how many times you had misinterpreted his sarcasm, how many times he had said a blatant truth only for you to take it for a grain of salt. 

Most of all, you wonder if Robin catches your distress at him actually exposing you two. You don’t even have it in you to shove your elbow especially painfully into his side this time, completely dismayed and unsure of what to say. 

She doesn’t catch it. She only snorts, rolling her eyes, “Right. Of course – or that.” 

You’re still unable to respond as Eddie continues to grin, laughing along with Robin, including her in an inside joke she had no idea of her involvement in. She has no idea. 

Because you guys were fucking. You’d had sex with Eddie, let him use you and throw you around like a goddamn rag doll. And now, here he was, so casually joining around with your mutual friend about it as if it were some absurd dream. Some stupid joke, some unreasonable thought of something that could never possibly happen. 

“Okay, well I’ll let you guys go back to bed-”

“Or jumping each other’s bones,” Eddie interrupts Robin.

She makes an exaggerated gagging noise, though the corners of her mouth are pulled up in a smile, before continuing, “And I’ll let everyone know we probably won’t get an update for the next hour. Just… don’t kill each other, alright? Who knows, maybe you guys can even become friends?” 

You wait for Eddie to take the punch line of something along the lines of being friends with benefits, to make a spectacle yet again of what had just transpired to an unsuspecting Robin. 

It meant nothing to him. It was all a joke to him. 

“See ya, Robs,” you offer weakly, numbly, hardly able to raise a hand to wave her off. You know that to her, this is just a symptom of fatigue. The type of tired solved by crawling back into bed and sleeping it off. She’s not worried; she even grins wider as she says her final goodbyes to you and Eddie before the call ends. 

Eddie knows better than Robin. 

He waits a few seconds after the call has ended and his apartment has fallen silent again, watching your slow movements as you sit your phone down on the arm of the couch. 

You lied to yourself, clearly. This incessant ache in you, this question that has begun to run laps in your mind, will never be satiated or sedated through joking discussions of what happened. You can’t pretend like your hips won’t carry invisible scars for the rest of your days from where Eddie’s hands scorned you, you can’t forget how his lips fit against yours in a movement easier than breathing. Kissing him, holding him, filling him had been more effortless than filling your lungs with the air necessary for survival. And you hadn’t caught onto it in the moment, hadn’t recognized your mistake and stopped this train from running off its tracks quicker than you could handle. 

That’s all it was. A trainwreck. You and Eddie were a trainwreck, and the only casual so far it seemed was you. 

An explosion. A glass wall. A tormented ocean. Every single transaction between you and him ended with you wounded, never him. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks when you suddenly stand from the couch, not really sure of where you were going to go but no longer capable of just sitting and thinking, pondering, drowning. 

“Fine,” you curtly reply, deciding the kitchen might be a good place to start. Get a glass of water, gulp it down instead of false hope or fake niceties Eddie was probably going to shower you with now. 

Or maybe there would be no face niceties. Maybe he’d go back to being cruel, and in that, not realize he was being kind to you and your heart that had grown too heavy over the last twelve hours. 

“You don’t look fine,” he persists, and follows you. It nearly sparks irritation. But of all the emotions rushing through you right now, you don’t have the energy to spare for petty irritation. 

“Then stop looking,” you sigh as your eyes trace over his cabinets, trying to remember which one holds his glasses. He gets too close too fast, coming up behind you and opening one of the cabinets as if he was reading your mind. A collection of mugs, plastic cups, and crystal glasses alike line the shelves. You focus on them rather than him. 

“What’s wrong?” he insists, actually starting to get on your nerves now.

You didn’t want to tell him what’s wrong, because it was stupid. The most predictable cliche has come to fruition, and you only have yourself to blame. The anger he’s assuming is his fault is just misdirected. You just needed to get your emotions under control – if you could accomplish that, you could survive these last few hours. 

“It’s nothing,” you push back, finally looking at him. You worry for a second that you might be teary eyed, but you know better. Your corneas burn, everything aches, but your vision is clear as day. He’s clear as day, and it makes the ache all the more unbearable, “I’ll get over it.” 

You’re not supposed to want him this way. You’re supposed to hate him. 

He stiffens, “Get over what?” 

“It.” 

“I-” he stammers at your vague response, mouth pressing into a harsh line as his eyes narrow, “Jesus Christ, how are you still this fucking stubborn? After everything that’s happened tonight? After everything that happened in the last hour?” 

“I’m not stubb-” you fruitlessly try to correct, but he bulldozes on without listening.

“I thought after I had been balls deep in you, maybe we had made some progress – maybe we could be friends-” 

“Are you fucking joking?” you scoff, trying to properly process the sentence he’d just said and not get hung up on him using the phrase balls deep, “I- No, okay? Sex doesn’t mean friendship, Eddie. That’s not how this works.” 

“Then how does it work?” if you were stupid, you’d assume he was begging, “Please enlighten me. How do I get you to trust me?” 

“Why do you need my trust so badly?” you snark back. Misdirected anger, and he’d put himself directly in the line of fire, “Why do you want that of me so goddamn badly when it’s clear that after tonight, we’ll pretend all of this never existed?” 

He steps back as if you slapped him. As if he hadn’t been the one just making a mockery of whatever was happening between the two of you. 

“You said it yourself,” you continue to ramble, waving around a previously fisted hand, “It changes nothing. And it’s not your problem that I struggle with that. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself – there’s a difference.” 

“It doesn’t feel like there’s a difference,” Eddie immediately snaps, “You’re mad because I said… I said that? Because I said your words back to you? Because if you can recall correctly, sweetheart, you’re the one that said it all means nothing first.”

The misdirected anger is starting to feel perfectly directly with each word that leaves his mouth, “Because you asked me if it all meant nothing first. They’re still your words, not mine!” 

“I only asked that because you’ve made it very clear that you enjoy hating me.” 

“You think I enjoy this?” your voice breaks with emotion, taking a step closer to him. Your toes brush his, “You think I enjoy all this fighting with you? You think I enjoy seeing you act like it’s painful to be in a room with me for more than a few seconds at a time?”

His hardening gaze, his hands twitching at his sides, the lilt of his mouth as the corner folds downward. Now that you’ve tasted him, you could never erase yourself of him. 

“You really want to know what I think?” he’s not screaming like he should be. The two of you should be shouting to the ceilings, screaming until the surrounding neighbors could hear you. You want to yell until your lungs give out and noise complaints have been filed, but he’s not having it. He’s quiet as he takes the next step closer. His head dips in closer to yours, lips nearing the shell of your ear, “Do you truly want to know what I think about all of this?”

“Yes,” you whimper out, the need for yelling being swallowed down for the time being, “That’s all I want.”

It’s true. You don’t know if he can see it, the crack in your composure as you admit it, but it’s the truth. You want to see inside his mind, watch the mechanics ticking in real time. You need to know his every single thought and feeling so badly, your hands shake. 

“I think,” his voice comes out as a husky whisper directly against your ear, chest just shy of brushing against yours, “you never really hated me, baby,” he pauses, and one of his hands come out to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you in closer to him, “I think, you just wanted me so badly, it made you into a dumb, angry slut.” 

“You’re cocky,” you shakily laugh. You need to stop this. You need to push him away, save yourself.

You lean into his touch and silent commands, pressing up into him. Going as far as to stand up on your tip-toes so that your nose brushes against his neck. 

“Am I?” he chuckles, and the sound shoots straight to your core. 

You need to push him away. You need to put distance. You need to remember this means nothing.

“You asked me what I thought, sweetheart,” he goes to pull away, and you follow, “And I’m nothing if not an honest man.”

It means nothing. You can deal with your own ramifications tomorrow. You can work through the catastrophe relief come tomorrow afternoon, nurse away the heartbreak and sore disappointment. 

You have him for one night. One night. To let him slip away from you is to waste it. 

“Honest?” you try to scoff, but it comes out a breath against his skin, both hands now wrapping around your waist as he turns the two of you and cages you against the counter, “You… You can’t even honestly tell me why you hate me. You have to use some bullshit excuse.” 

His hands rake down your sides before cupping beneath your thighs, lifting you to sit on the counter. He’s fucking smirking. Completely unaffected by your words. 

“Would you like me to be honest now, doll?” he rasps, leaning back to take you in, “Or would you rather me eat that poor pussy right here, right now, on this counter?” 

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[amomentsescape]

Heyyy darling,IM POLITELY BEGGING,for some stu and billy with feral ,hyper,punk gremlin s/o headcanons. Simply the boys trying to be as casual as possible so they dont get suspected for the previous murders but then they’re running around with their own little bundle of chaos. Im talking like a real troublemaker,just for the fun of it but always just watching all the drama happening,never being involved even though they caused it. For example: •causing misunderstandings in other friendgroups •cutting someone’s car wheels (or similar stuff) after they’ve been rude to someone in their friend group,maybe when gale didnt respect sidney���s privacy in the first movie •S/O has a collection of anything shiny and glittery things they stole (from spoons to necklaces) just cause they like how it looks and they know it will cause some chaos. •Flirting with randy,tatum and stu to piss the boys off a bit •Oh or maybe billy getting them one of those vertical cloths or swings for their living room,I feel like that would fit cause billy would be a bit tired of his S/O letting their hyperness out on him. •When they come home from killing a bit later sometimes,they just find their s/o sleeping in the most uncomfy position (criss cross apple sauce type of shit) on their swing,drooling a bit,their body twitching every now and then

I dont know if any of this made sense my head is all over the place right now. <3

Billy and Stu (Separate) with Feral Gremlin Reader

Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader

A/N: This was honestly so fun to write!

Billy Loomis

Boy, he didn't quite know what he was getting into when he first became interested in you

But he's in it for the long run, so here we go

Making Billy jealous is a common theme with you

Outright flirting, giggling, and dancing around with other people automatically makes Billy see red

But there's something about his possessiveness that you love so much that you keep doing it anyway

It almost always leads to a fight between Billy and the other party

And damn, isn't it fun to watch?

But that's not to say that you don't also feel your fair share of anger as well

Someone pisses you off even slightly? They're gonna regret it the next morning

Keyed cars, egged houses, graffitied threats

There is no limit to your creativity to get back at them

Billy simply huffs and puffs at you, berating you about being too "loud" with your actions

He's trying to keep things down-low by all means

And the last thing he wants is one of your actions getting him caught and put in jail

But there is something kinda attractive with how you stir up drama and give Billy some attitude

He doesn't like easy

He wants a challenge

And boy do you give him one

But on days where he simply cannot have you running amuck, he has you lay down in your own little hammock he bought you

For whatever reason, that always has you relaxed

It's like you become a whole different person with it

And Billy lets out a little "thank you" to the Gods each time he sees you just swinging away

He loves you, but damn, it's hard to keep up with you

Stu Macher

Stu on the other hand, is not phased at all by you

In fact, he matches your energy about 80% of the time

A friend pissed you off? You're both screaming and laughing while talking badly about them

Things are getting a little boring? You and Stu tell different people made up stuff that someone else is "saying" about them

You both love to stir up drama and watch how badly things can unfold

Stu is less concerned about getting caught than Billy anyways

What's even the point in killing if you can't have some fun outside of it?

So having you around is the perfect way for Stu to let out his hyper energy and keep things exciting when he isn't killing teens

But when he is out and about, he's thinking of you

You're probably at home eating all of his snacks in that moment, but he doesn't care

After his victims meet their fates, he is happy to dig around in their pockets and their homes, looking for anything even the slightest bit shiny to bring back to you

Nothing compares to the way your eyes light up at the gifts

Hell, you have a drawer in your room just filled with all things shiny and captivating

But Stu knows he'll have to wait until the morning to give you your gift

Because just about every night he comes home, he finds your head handing off the couch with your legs and arms splayed out, snoozing away

Remnants of chips and chocolate can still be found on your lips and fingertips

Stu secretly has made a photo album in his phone just for all the pictures he takes of you when you're sleeping

It's about time Stu had someone who met his chaotic energy

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.4 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

You whine trying to chase after the ball as Astarion was tugging you back to him to check your measurements. You pout as you finally stand still. “Hells, even a cat does better at holding still. “ He sighs before slipping on your new outfit. “There, how does it fit?” He steps back watching you admire the new outfit made. “It fits me better!” You smile, finally you could stretch without hurting your limbs from how tight your old outfit was. You go to chase the ball but once again the pale elf stops you “Please don’t create holes in your new outfit” He sighs before letting you go off.  Karlach walks over “Seems like the little soldier is growing up.” She smiles watching you play off with the ball in camp. “Well obviously, they're Dhampir. Very different from humans and vampires.” He crossed his arms looking at the one horned woman. “So free spirited…do you think we can contain their blood lust?” She whispers as you were near them playing. Astarion thinks on the subject. Even he was shocked to see the bunny in pieces. “ I don’t know, that is why I am reading this book…it should be��possible since they have a human side…we just have to be patient…” He says slowly. He wasn’t even confident in his answer. “It all depends how strong our little soldier is,” Karlach smiles, keeping a positive attitude. Astarion nods and thought, ‘yes it all depends on them’ 

Night came, everyone was in the fire waiting for Gale’s cooking to be done. You look around hearing the Owl hoot but you weren’t hearing their whoo but rather how their blood pumps. Tav was watching you before gently nudge Astarion. He looks over to them before seeing Tav move their eyes towards (Y/N). He looks over to you and where you were looking before calling out your name “(Y/N) foods almost ready, look” He tries to distract you. Tav smiles seeing you and Astarion make small talk, each word flowing out of his mouth made your eyes shine with glee. The pale elf stops and gets up holding your hand. Everyone else stood up seeing the blade of Frontiers in their camp. You tried to peek around Astarion before he pushed you back “Stay back.” He mutters. After finally convincing Wyll that Karlach was no threat, everyone was back in their spot around the campfire eating the meal Gale had prepared. You look at the bowl in front of you before pushing it aside. “You need to eat” Astarion pushes the bowl back into your hands. You shake your head “No!” You whine. 

Wyll looks over “ I find it odd that a vampire spawn is looking after a child.” He smiles looking at you fighting Astarion with the bowl. Tav looks up “It’s not really…(Y/N) isn’t exactly Human either…or …a vampire spawn…” They began. Wyll looks over to them. “Oh? What can this little adorable apple be?” He smiles. “For the love of…just tell the monster hunter.” Astarion huffs feeling annoyed as you reject the spoon in your mouth. “They are a Dhampir” Tav broke the news as Wyll stopped midway with the spoon in his mouth. “ I beg your pardon…” He says looking back at you seeing the spoon being shoved gently in your mouth with the help of Gale holding you still. “ A Dhampir ... .never in my life haunting…I would ever come across such a creature…an adorable one as well.” He walks over to you, taking a look. “Watch it, they are not some artwork” Astarion mutters, placing you in his lap and kept feeding you. Keeping you away from Wyll. 

The day has risen and you were happily bouncing around holding on to Tav as you were included in the group. Astarion threw a fit, not wanting to leave you alone with Wyll and Gale who were going to be left behind. So here you were, admiring the wilderness before looking over and hearing some shouting in the distance. “I told you this is better if (Y/N) joins us when we won’t be battling the globins to rescue this stupid Halsin guy. Gale is so irresponsible and Wyll, don’t get me started” Astarion huffs. Shadowheart turns around but stops “We lost them….” She sighs.  Tav turns around “(Y/N)?” They call out before walking around trying to find you before seeing you standing in front of a wooden cage that had Lae’zel inside. “Don’t ever leave our side” Tav looks over to you before walking forward to speak with Lae’zel. Astarion walks over and holds your hand. “Don’t ever walk off ever again! You do know this goes on the possibility of letting you join in our adventures.” He looks at you. “But I heard yelling so I wanted to check it out.” You pout only for Astarion to sigh “You are a big headache you know that?” He mutters holding your hand letting Tav handle the situation with Lae’zel.

After not getting a please from Lae’zel, everyone was back at camp. Gale was cooking as always, everyone else was doing their own thing. You were walking around the camp, collecting even more flowers. You were collecting them near Lae’zel’s camp “Istik, come here” She called out. You walk over holding your flowers staying quiet. “What are you, are you also a vampire Spawn?” Her eyes look at yours. “No…I’m a Dhampir.” You meekly whisper. “Chk, a Dhampir.” She says “Listen here Istik, if you ever take one bite off of me. I will show you what a blade does” She threatens. You only tear  up and ran off running to Astarion who was busy talking to Tav, “Astarion!” You yelled, hugging his leg. “What’s the matter?” He looks down at you and picks you up. “She! She!” You only hiccup, not able to form complete sentences. “Come out now, I am no mind reader.” Tav rubs your back “ What’s wrong?” They whisper. “She threatened me…” You whisper, laying your chubby cheek on Astarions shoulder. Tav looks over to where you were pointing. “ I see, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to her.” They pat your head and walk off. Astarion huffs “Oh please, she only did so because she was scared of you. She knows you’re powerful…even I know your strength ... .so does Cazador.” He whispers and rubs your back. “I think it’s time we eat and then we’ll sleep for the night?” He plants soft kisses to the side of your head and he stops. What the hells was that for? Why did he do that? He looks down at you only to see you smile clinging on to him. Watching Shadowheart and Lae’zel argue with each other,  Tav tries to keep the peace between the two. He smiles, planting one more on your head and walks over to the campfire.

[zendwrotes]

— Headcanons w/ the Dorm Leaders !

⤷ a/n : this is my first writing stuff so if there are any mistakes then i’m sorry. requests are currently closed, if you’re interest when is the request going to open please read the general guildlines at here !

★ characters : riddle rosehearts｜leona kingscholar｜azul ashengrotto｜kalim al-asim｜vil schoenheit｜idia shroud｜malleus draconia

“ tags — gender neutral reader, fluff, twst, dorm leaders x gn!reader, cuddles, pats, small peek kisses, reader uses you/your pronouns. . .

・warnings : none !

— i think riddle would be the little spoon, not because of his height but because of his anger.

— well, imagine if his anger just rise up and the first thing he’ll do to calm his anger down is nuzzle into your neck/chest. (trey suggested that.)

— if you and him are in private (which is his dorm room.) i think he will cuddle you if he got nothing to do.

— he will probably give you some headpats and nuzzle into the crook of your neck while hugging you tightly.

— if he’s sad, he will just come to you and cuddle you (he told you to come to his room before doing that though.) and tell his story.

— when you’re sleeping, he will make sure that no one, and i mean absolutely no one will disturb you during your sleep.

— of course, he will tell you to hug him while you’re sleeping. it makes he feel relieved because he knows you’re still here and hugging him.

— ah, this beauty lion. i think he would fit the big spoon position to be honest.

— when he’s sleeping or taking a nap, he will tell you to come to his place to cuddle you while he’s sleeping.

— if you and him are in private? hm, i think he would kiss you then cuddle with you after that though.

— i actually think that he would nibble your hands or fingers too. y’know, animals affection.

— when you’re sleeping, he will sneak up quietly towards you and capture you with his hugs. that surprises you though because out of all people, you wouldn’t think he will do that.

— he loves it when you pat him though, he just doesn’t say it to you and act like he doesn’t like it either.

— he will make sure that nobody is watching you and him so that he can cuddle you and say “cringe” things that can make ruggie laugh all day.

— however, if you want him to be little spoon then he will ! and after that he will just get on top of you and kiss you on the lips while cuddling you. (i mean he will become the big spoon again.)

— p.s: you’re his pillow every nights.

— come to this octopus now, aren’t we?

— personally, i think he can be little spoon and big spoon at the same time.

— if he’s in neutral mood, he would tell you to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. (no contract signing because you’re his precious anglefish.)

— well, if he’s in the mood that wants to hug something, that “something” would be you ! he will hug you tightly so that no one dares to come to you and steal you away from him.

— i think he will play with your hair while cuddling you. if he’s the little spoon recently, he will nuzzle into your chest.

— azul absolutely loves the position where he can hide his face in the crook of your neck or in your chest, it has a warm feeling that he wants it to last forever.

— depends on the situation where he’s working on his papers, he will tell you to come over and just let you play around in his room. (maybe if there are floyd and jade, he will tell them to do something that can interests you.)

— he will makes sure that nobody comes to you and flirts/bullies you with hurtful words. he doesn’t want you to be like him when he’s still in his octopus form in the past.

— in my opinion, he would sing quietly for you every night and give you a little kiss on the cheek.

— oh boy, kalim literally would spoil you with kisses and hugs whenever he can !

— pillows everywhere in his bed. and i actually meant it, everywhere. he does that just because he wants you to be comfy while you’re sleeping.

— he would give you many headpats while he’s hugging you to be honest.

— personally, he could be the little spoon and the big spoon, whatever you want ! he loves your opinions about that.

— if he catches your sight anywhere, he will run to you immediately and give you a big hug.

— when there’s nobody around, he would give you a small peek kiss on your cheek before asking you if he has permission to capture your lips passionately.

— well, if it’s night and you two are sleeping together, he will listen to you on who should be the one that cuddling the other.

— if it’s him, he will smile brightly and tell you that he would hug you tightly and give you many many many small kisses.

— if it’s you, he would love to nuzzle his face in your chest (or the shirt.). he loves you hugging him, giving him all your small kisses on his forehead.

— to be honest, kalim would never let anyone makes you sad. because if he sees you sad, he will literally be sad with you and he doesn’t want that to happen. (you don’t want it either.)

— feel free to hug him whenever you like. even if jamil and other students are in front of the two of you.

— he will scold you if you hug him surprisingly while he’s in front of the others (especially if it’s rook.)

— personally, he will be the big spoon. or he could be it. it actually depends on his mood. (not like floyd’s way.)

— he can give you some small kisses on your forehead after you’ve done helping him with his hair. (as a reward for you !)

— he will force you to do skincare with him like oh brother. . . if you don’t then he will let you sleep outside so listen to him about that ! make sure to have lip balm too.

— he will ask you to choose his make-up for today. if it actually looks good on him he will praise you, chuckle while giving some small kisses again on your cheek.

— when it’s night, he will hug you as his pillow (after he has done his skincare of course.). not tightly but enough for him to know that you’re still beside him.

— if you two are in private, you can hug him and give him some small kisses on his cheek. he won’t scold you but instead will take that opportunity to kiss your lips as soon as possible.

— while cuddling, he makes sure that the temperature is enough for you.

— this boy will turn into fire if you hug him. and i meant that.

— idia probably would let you cuddling him while he’s playing games. he would give you some kisses on your forehead too. (if you’re sleeping only because he’s embarrassed to give you kisses while you’re still awake.)

— oh please, he will try to make you play games with him even if you don’t want to.

— he will make his and your seat as comfy as possible. so that you can play games with him without feeling things under your feet. (his room is kinda messy so.)

— if he notices your head on his shoulder and you’re sleeping, he won’t even move a pixel. instead he will try to grab the blanket near there and put it on you.

— i think he would like to be the little spoon more. he loves your touch anyways.

— while you’re hugging him, you can feel the heat rising up because he’s blushing very very very much while he’s in your arms.

— he just loves everything on your body where he can put his head at. especially nuzzling in your neck. he will be there forever if you and ortho don’t wake him up and pull him out actually.

— malleus respects your privacy so he won’t doing anything much while sitting/standing somewhere near you.

— he would be the big spoon and little spoon, depends on what you would like either.

— he can be a tease sometimes so when you’re hugging him on the bed, he can flip around and be on top of you just to hug you back.

— if you ask permission to touch his horns, he’s very much welcomed you ! but please touch it gently and in a few minutes only.

— lilia usually would come to malleus’s room to check-up on you (don’t ask why you’re usually in his room.) so malleus usually will checking if lilia will come to his room or not to cuddle you.

— he loves touching your hair, it’s so smooth and silk. he could stroke your hair all day if sebek doesn’t find him and scream “waka-sama” everyday. haha.

— well, you and him are cuddling in the night. if he’s the little spoon, he will nuzzle into your chest. (of course he’s still need to check if his horns disturb you or not.)

— if you’re the little spoon, he will hug you kind of tight. he’s just scare that someone is going to steal you from him.

— be ready for his pats on your head. . . because it’s gonna be very very much.

final note ／ and we end here ! thank you so much if you have made it to here. if there’s any mistakes, you can suggest me in the askbox, i’m very appreciated it !

⤷ some of the ideas in this are by @coffeeailee

[30somethingautisticteacher]

The Perfect Ingredients (That's Amore)

Bucktommy Positivity Week Day 4/5 Combo fic (Date Night from an Outsider Perspective)

@bucktommypositivityweek

****

Daisy's eyes were drawn to the newcomer the moment he walked into the class. She was certain she hadn't seen him before - she would have remembered someone like that. He was tall and muscular, with a build that suggested a life dedicated to fitness. As he set up his station, arranging cooking utensils with a small, pleasant smile, Daisy noticed an adorable pink birthmark just above his eye.

Feeling bold, Daisy decided to make her move as he finished setting up. "Hi," she purred, fluttering her eyelashes. "I'm Daisy. What's your name, handsome?"

The man looked slightly taken aback. "Oh... hi... Buck. My name's Buck," he replied, his tone polite but reserved.

Undeterred, Daisy pressed on. "Well, Buck, since it looks like we're both here alone, how about we share a station? I could use some help with my pasta-making technique."

"Oh, I'm not alone," Buck said quickly. "Just waiting for my date."

Daisy's hopes dimmed slightly, but she wasn't ready to give up. "Is it serious?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"Very," Buck replied with a soft smile, flashing the ring on his left hand.

Daisy's enthusiasm deflated visibly. "She's a lucky lady," she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Oh, uh..." Buck began, but before he could finish, he was interrupted.

"Ev, sorry I'm late, baby," a deep voice called out. Daisy turned to see an equally tall, somehow even more muscular man approaching.

Buck's face lit up with pure joy as he saw the newcomer. "Tommy," he said in a breathy voice, his entire demeanor transforming. "I'm so glad you made it."

The way Buck said Tommy's name was filled with such warmth and affection that Daisy felt like she was intruding on an intimate moment.

"Wouldn't miss it," Tommy replied, pulling Buck into a tender kiss.

Daisy's eyes widened in surprise as the pieces fell into place. She watched as Buck's entire demeanor shifted, his face lighting up at the sight of his partner. The love between them was clear, and Daisy felt a twinge of envy at their obvious connection.

Realizing her mistake, she quietly moved away to a station farther down the counter, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

As the class progressed and they began making pasta, Daisy couldn't help but overhear Buck lean in close to his partner, whispering, "How's the dough coming along, my Italian Stallion?" followed by a soft chuckle from both men.

"It could use some work, sweetheart," Tommy replied playfully, rubbing some flour on Buck's nose.

Buck's eyes crinkled with laughter as he wiped the flour off, leaving a smudge behind.

"Well, you may be the pasta master thanks to Nonna, but you know my sauce-making skills are stellar," Buck said, his voice tender as he lifted a spoon to Tommy's mouth.

Tommy tasted the sauce, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor. He let out a moan that was almost sinful, causing Daisy to blush slightly at its intensity.

"Evan, your sauce is magical," Tommy murmured, before leaning in to kiss Buck again, soft and sweet.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable, their shared passion for cooking clearly intertwined with their love for each other. Daisy watched as they worked together seamlessly, Tommy expertly shaping pasta while Buck tended to his sauce, occasionally feeding each other tastes or exchanging loving glances.

Daisy couldn't help but smile, despite her initial disappointment. There was something beautiful about witnessing such a genuine connection. The way Buck and Tommy interacted - the playful teasing, the tender moments, the shared joy in creating something together - painted a vivid picture of a deep, loving relationship.

As she turned back to her own cooking station, Daisy found herself hoping that one day she might find someone who looked at her the way Tommy looked at Buck, or someone who would playfully dab flour on her nose and call her cooking magical. For now, though, she was content to be an inadvertent witness to this small, perfect slice of love unfolding in an Italian cooking class.

Daisy glanced down at her own attempt at pasta-making and sighed. The dough was too wet, sticking to her fingers as she tried to shape it. Her sauce, simmering quietly on the stovetop, lacked the rich aroma that wafted from Buck and Tommy's station. She realized, with a mix of amusement and resignation, that she'd spent far too much time eavesdropping on the handsome couple next to her and not enough focusing on her own culinary efforts.

As if to underscore her distraction, Buck's voice drifted over once more. "I know you said I'm not allowed to cook for the wedding, Tommy, but what about for the rehearsal dinner?" he asked, a hint of playful pleading in his tone. "Try saying no to this sauce."

Daisy couldn't help but peek over, watching as Buck lifted once again lifted the spoon to Tommy's lips. Tommy tasted the sauce, his eyes closing briefly in appreciation.

"The sauce I can say no to," Tommy chuckled, opening his eyes to gaze at Buck. "It's those golden retriever eyes that get me every time."

Buck's answering smile was radiant, and Daisy felt her heart twist with a bittersweet mixture of envy and joy.

As the class began to wind down, Daisy observed Buck and Tommy packing up their perfectly crafted pasta. They moved in sync, their hands brushing against each other more frequently than strictly necessary. Tommy wiped down their station while Buck carefully stored their sauce, but their efficiency was somewhat hampered by their increasing distraction with each other.

"You missed a spot," Buck murmured, reaching around Tommy to wipe a smudge of flour from the counter. The move brought him flush against Tommy's back, and Daisy couldn't help but notice the way Tommy leaned into the contact.

"Did I?" Tommy asked, his voice low as he turned in Buck's arms. "Maybe you should double-check."

Their eyes met, and the heat in their gaze was clear even from where Daisy stood. Buck's hand found its way to Tommy's hip, while Tommy's fingers played with the collar of Buck's shirt.

"You know," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think we might need to continue this cooking lesson at home."

Tommy nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Definitely. I think there are a few... techniques we still need to perfect."

With a shared laugh that was equal parts amusement and desire, they hastily finished cleaning their station. Their touches became more lingering, their glances more heated, until finally Tommy grabbed their bag of leftovers and Buck's hand.

"We should go," Tommy said, his voice rough. "Before we do something inappropriate for a cooking class."

Buck nodded eagerly, and with a hurried goodbye to the instructor, they all but rushed out of the classroom. As they made their hasty exit, Daisy couldn't help but notice a distinct white handprint on the seat of Buck's pants - a telltale sign of Tommy's flour-covered hands finding their way to places decidedly not involved in pasta-making.

Daisy watched them go, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and envy. As she turned back to clean up her own considerably less successful culinary attempts, she couldn't help but smile. Her pasta might be a disaster, and her sauce might be bland, but she'd gained something far more valuable from this cooking class – a glimpse of what true love could look like, seasoned with playfulness and garnished with unwavering affection.

Also on Ao3

[sungbeam]

BIRD HUNT — five

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death/suicide/murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, mentions of corruption, feelings of guilt

▷ word count. 4.0k // taglist. open

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: i... did Not finish chapter 8 or fix chapter 7, but we ball

FILE_05 : fall where they may

gotham city.

[The funeral ; ten days since your mother was murdered.]

The guilt had been eating away at his heart, chipping away at the bones of his ribcage to expose the most important organ in his body. The ancient Egyptians had once believed that the heart was the seat of the mind; a person did not make decisions purely based on logic, but on what their heart urged them to. And that had been exactly Beomgyu’s downfall as he smiled a little too wide, laughed a little too loud, enjoyed the twinkle in your eyes just a little too much. When that emotion filled his lungs like a gas, he could see nothing but the blurred tunnel focusing solely on you. On what you and him used to be. 

“You’ve done well for yourself then,” he said, his cheeks aching from the grin on his face. His stomach and his chest felt tight from the mixture of hard laughter and ice cream and this terribly well-tailored suit. 

Your expression subdued at the thought of work, and for a moment, Beomgyu’s heart stuttered, fearing he had said the wrong thing. It was strange—he never had to be scared of saying the wrong thing, but for some reason—no, wait. Of course, he wanted this to work. You were someone very important to him. 

You cleared your throat. “I guess I have.” You paused, reconsidering your words. “Well, I’ll probably need to find new employment unless Mrs. Lee has something for me to do, but—”

“Come work for us,” he blurted. It had just… slipped out of him. But there was this thrill racing through his veins and he was not about to regret his words. Your eyes widened just slightly, and he reiterated, “I’m serious, y’know. If you need a job, you’re probably more than qualified for the positions we have open at the enterprise.” 

His knee began to bounce under the table, and the ice cream parlor was suddenly too quiet, too small, as he awaited your reply. 

You licked your lips in thought. He couldn’t read you; why couldn’t he read you? “Beomgyu, did you know that I applied and interviewed for a position at Choi Enterprise?”

Yes. He tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Oh, really?” Tell me what happened, so I know whose ass to kick. 

There was that noticeable narrowing of your eyes and he wondered if you knew that he knew. You were smart, so he wouldn’t be surprised if you figured it out. “Yeah… Soobin didn’t tell you?”

What. 

He blinked, breathed. “Soobin? No, he didn’t tell me jack shit—”

“He was on the interview panel,” you said to him as you idly began stirring your spoon around your paper cup. There were only the remnants of a raspberry sorbet at the bottom. His eyes flickered over your bruised finger tips. When he had asked about it earlier, you had made up some excuse of "being mad at the world." He couldn't exactly call you out on it; he'd once thrown a physical fit and gotten a firm scolding from his dad. “Well, I think he was more just sitting in, but I don’t blame him for anything. He couldn’t have had that much say in who would be hired or not anyway.”

Oh, Beomgyu was going to murder Choi Soobin. 

Beomgyu coughed. “Yeah no. Definitely not.” Totally not because he was one of the heirs to the company or anything. Soobin couldn’t have been older than nineteen or twenty, but like Beomgyu himself, he had been trained from an early age to carry out the duties of a company executive. “And after that you interviewed with Lee Sungjae?” 

You nodded. “Somebody recommended me to his people, and I was hooked up with an interview. They must have passed along my resume or something.”

Now that sounded like something Beomgyu’s older brother would do. But why hadn’t Soobin overridden the interview panel’s verdict? Beomgyu trusted that they made a good decision, but could they not have referred you to a different open position or department in the company? There were plenty of positions to go around. Why recommend you to Lee Sungjae’s office? 

"I'm sure there was a reason for—"

"Gyu—" you cut in with a slight smile on your face, and your eyes were alight again like earlier with something like silent laughter, "—I'm not mad about it. I don't hold a grudge against you or your family or Choi Enterprise."

Beomgyu opened his mouth, then reconsidered. He wanted to tell you, god, he really wanted to. He wanted to tell you it was going to be okay. He wanted to take care of you like you and your mother had done for him those years ago. He'd felt loved and warm and… his chest ached. Dear god, his chest hurt so bad. 

He finally said, "I'm just glad you're okay." Even after I smashed your face into the floor and you knocked your head into my face and sprayed my mouth with pepper spray. 

You smiled then, the corners of which were soft and assuring. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

A grin bloomed on his face then like the spring that Gotham never saw. Flowers and shit. Gotham had all of the allergies, but somehow no flowers. That stuff came from just outside the city limits, but Beomgyu hadn’t minded spending all that gas to find those calla lilies for your mother. 

Beomgyu wondered if you'd like to come by the manor for dinner. It had to be time for supper by now; he didn't like the idea of you being alone in that apartment, even with all the cats—

The shrill sound of his ringtone sliced through the comfortable atmosphere, and Beomgyu swiftly pressed the phone to his ear with a groan after catching a glimpse of the caller ID. You lifted an eyebrow at him curiously at the sound of his generic ringtone—it used to be this one, very loud Green Day song. 

"What?" He bit out.

A chuckle met his ears, followed by Soobin's separate grunt, "You've had your fun, Beom. There's been another murder."

Beomgyu exhaled roughly and dragged a hand through his hair. He caught your eyes then glanced away. "Where?"

When Soobin said the name into the speaker, Beomgyu let out another haggard exhale. He cursed under his breath, hand coming up to his face to massage the pressure points between his eyes. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

The call did not last long after that, with Beomgyu promising his older brother that he would be there in fifteen minutes. He needed to take you home, after all. When he tucked his phone away, you were already giving him that smile of understanding, as if you had listened into the entire conversation through just his facial expressions and reactions. He hated that you knew that he had to go—he hated that he actually had to go, most of all. 

“Duty calls,” you said first. “Is it work?”

He lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug, the corner of his lips curling upward in a sheepish sort of smile. “Yeah, you can say that. Hey, but I can totally give you a ride home. My brothers can wait.”

You laughed as the two of you stood together to throw away your trash and head out. 

It was a good thing that Beomgyu had the sense to stay in the shadows beneath the bridge as he brought his shiny, black BMW to a stop. The sidewalk outside the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge was beginning to fill up with clubbers dressed in their finest and skimpiest cocktail dresses and button-up shirts. Some of them laughed with their heads tilted to the poisoned Gotham night sky while others let their big mouths run wild to the pretty face hanging off their arm. Maybe you shouldn’t have had Beomgyu drop you off here, but you needed to see your father about something, and you hadn’t the energy to go from one end of the city to the other twice. 

Beomgyu’s jaw was set as he surveyed the outside of the club. “Yn, I know I shouldn’t ask…”

“I just have business to wrap up,” you told him while gathering your things at your feet. “My mom had a… connection here.”

“I don’t think you should go alone.”

“And who’s gonna accompany me?” When you glanced over at Beomgyu, he was already staring back at you with that steely gaze. It was defiant, telling you what you already knew—he would definitely drop whatever work thing had come up to accompany you through the Iceberg Lounge. “You have business to attend to, and I’ll be fine. I’ve been in a couple times anyway and the guys at the front know me.”

His eyebrow shot up. “They know you? That really doesn’t make me feel better.” 

It was so odd, you realized as you took in the full view of Beomgyu’s crisp black suit and his gold Rolex and his characteristically chiseled “Choi” features side by side with the outside of the Iceberg Lounge. The silver-blue neon sign cast an almost ethereal glow across his face, like an angel. But angels didn’t exist in Gotham, at least, not the good ones. You wondered if what your father had told you about the Chois were true. 

The corner of your lips quirked upward. “I’ll be fine, Beomgyu. You have my number now, so you can even text me later and I’ll confirm that I’m completely fine.” You pushed your car door open and welcomed the icy Gotham night across your skin. 

Beomgyu leaned across the car’s center console, the shadows now dancing over the pretty shapes of his face. “You better answer then.”

“Promise.” You grabbed the top rim of the door, primed to close it. “Now you should probably get out of here before somebody recognizes you.”

A flash of admission in his eyes. “Hey, listen. You wanna hang out—you just let me know. Like any time, okay? I—” he pursed his lips then nodded, “—yeah, I missed you a lot, Yn. I missed this.” 

Whatever this is, you wanted to say. Because… well, what was this? You didn’t know why your heart stuttered at the idea of texting him and hanging out with him again. Maybe it was the little teenage girl inside of you banging on the bars of her cage, begging to be let out at the taste of what used to be. That was what this had been—just a taste. 

You could only bob your head. “Get home safe.”

“You, too.” 

You slammed the door to the car and, without so much as a glance backward, you made your way across the street and into the neon light of the Iceberg Lounge. But seconds before you slipped into the raging nightclub, you peered over your shoulder to watch the BMW pull out from the shadows beneath the bridge and slowly begin to drive away. 

Less than five minutes later, you were seated in the living room of your father’s apartment, wondering how thick the floors and windows were if you could not even feel the bass from the floors below. It was a marvel; how much force would it take to break? If you ever had to break in, some way other than the door, then how could you do so?

Tonight, your father nursed a little, white and blue teacup with some kind of dark brew swirling in its innards. There was some kind of piano ballad playing in the background and a bookmarked novel sat in your father’s lap. 

“Where did you even get the idea that the Chois were backing the vigilantes anyway?” You asked him as one of his assistants emerged from a secret doorway in the bookshelves to hand you an unopened bottle of water. It was one of those brand named bottles claiming to be bottled straight from the blood of Fiji—or something of that sort. Water was water, but why weren’t you surprised that he owned this kind of luxury? “I don’t really see how or why. Thanks,” the latter statement being directed to the assistant, who promptly disappeared once his purpose had been served. 

Your father took a sip of his beverage. “Yn, dear, everyone in this city has an allegiance to someone to remain alive, whether they know it or not.” He considered the dark surface of the tea as if he could read the tea leaves lying at the bottom of the cup like corpses. “They do not answer to me, so they must answer to someone else.”

“Couldn’t you just—I dunno—look into their finances?” As soon as you said it, you backtracked, “No. Wait, don’t do that.”

He chuckled and the sound always sounded so oddly hollow. “Ah, still attached, are we? I seem to have noticed that you did not take your usual form of transportation tonight.”

“So you were spying on me?”

“I was merely looking out the window,” he replied while feigning an innocent look on his face. “But back to what we were discussing: you probably already know that men with money don’t like getting their hands soiled.”

You cracked the water bottle open. “So they flick their money in certain directions to make people get their hands dirty for them. That’s just common sense.” After you had taken a generous gulp of your water, you continued, “But you haven’t even the faintest piece of solid evidence that the Choi family is allied—or at least—employing these vigilantes, do you?”

Something flashed across your father’s face, and you realized that the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest was satisfaction. Oh god, it purred and circled in your chest until it settled there upon your sternum. It felt good to see your father stumped for once. (And frankly, the fact that you knew something he didn't also gave you that fuzzy, feline feeling. No, you had not cared to divulge that Choi Yeonjun was most likely the Red Hood. Something told you it was a secret you would do well to keep.)

At the dawn of your sly satisfaction, your father steered the conversation elsewhere. “Speaking of evidence, I have another lead.”

Immediately, that warm, fuzzy feeling was smothered and your posture straightened. “What is it?”

“But you have to do something for me.” Of course, because what was a lead without you doing another favor for him? You didn’t even prompt him. “The Commissioner of police—you know him? This Kim Namjoon character.”

You nodded. You knew of him, and you had even spoken with him, but he had seemed like a nice man. Then again, there weren’t a lot of nice people here. “He’s your lead?”

He scoffed into his tea cup. “No. That man is irritatingly difficult to persuade—”

“You mean ‘to corrupt.'”

He flicked a hand in dismissal. “Yes, yes, to corrupt. Either way, information will not come from him, so I need you to take it yourself.”

Your eyes shuttered as the statement processed in your head. “I will not kill for you, I hope you know that. I am here for my mother.”

His harsh gaze cut across to you and you suddenly felt so small beneath his stare again. Where had that satisfaction from before gone? You missed the comfortable weight in your chest, but now, all you felt was the thick viscosity of blood choking you from the inside out. “This is for your mother, Yn. If you want something, you have to take it. That is something your mother and I disagreed on, and look where that got her.”

The room descended into silence. 

Your heart thundered in your chest, your ears. It threatened to leap out and rip your so-called father to shreds. “Go fuck yourself. And you say you loved her?” You hissed. You ripped yourself out of the armchair, turning on the balls of your feet to get the Hell out of this place. 

“I did not want you to kill anyone, Yn.” 

His voice didn’t stop you as you continued down the corridor. Maybe this would be good. You could totally do this on your own, right? Wrong. And this awareness had you still listening to his words. 

“All you must do is sneak into the commissioner’s office and steal the report from your mother’s case.”

Your feet stopped moving. “And why can’t you just get one of your goons to do it?”

The sigh that fell from his lips sounded tired, but you sensed the exasperation lacing it. “My man on the inside is close to being found out. Plus, I know that you are capable of getting in and out without being caught. You’re more competent than all of my men.”

You abhorred how your pride swelled at the comment. It was hardly a compliment, but here you were, turning back around. Who were you trying to fool? You couldn’t do this on your own. “Fine. What am I getting again?”

Your father leaned forward to set his now empty teacup on the table. “The file must have a record of the casing from the bullet she was murdered with—the one that was found at the scene. From there, we can track down the make and model, who owned the weapon, and such. A lead, as I said.”

You had only been stationed outside the window of the commissioner’s office for seventeen minutes, but the guilt and pity was raging for this poor man. Commissioner Kim Namjoon had seemed like a nice enough man—a professional enough man—when you had spoken with him that day at the Lees’ home in the suburbs. As your father had said, he was one of the few irritatingly stubborn people in this town who refused to be corrupted by anyone. This one was a good egg in a bad nest. You suspected that he actually sought justice and had a good moral compass, and you also guessed that was the reason why there was a massive stack of paperwork on his desk. The man had been hunched over his desk for the entire time you had been stationed outside waiting for him to leave his office. 

“Take a damn break, man,” you muttered lowly to yourself, but also secretly hoping he would hear you and move his ass. If not for you, then for the sake of his own hair because you were certain he was this close to uprooting all of his hair follicles. 

It seemed the dark angel looming over your shoulder would grant your wish, and Commissioner Kim’s coffee cup had run dry. He rubbed his palms down his face, then stood to stretch his back and grab the emptied mug to head out of his office to get a fresh cup from the pot. 

You saw your opportunity and took it. Swiftly, you maneuvered your lock picks into the window lock, then lifted the pane up and open. You didn’t have a lot of time, but your father had assured you that his alleged “man on the inside” would find a way to distract the commissioner should he finally leave his damned office. You couldn’t really rely on that, so you scrambled over to the wall of file cabinets as quietly as possible and began to shuffle through them. 

Because the responding officers on the night of your mother’s murder had classified the crime as a simple suicide, you could probably guess that the officers in question probably got it thrown in a closed case file. You really wished you had been given more head’s up about this, or even a file number, because while the commissioner’s filing system was awfully organized, each file was categorized and labeled with a set of numbers and letters that did not help your timing. 

Why hadn’t your father’s “man on the inside” let you know which cabinet it was in, at least? (Right, they had given you some dumb explanation like “he works in robbery, not homicide." Well, your mother’s death wasn’t even a homicide, so it shouldn’t matter much—? God, you fucking hated this.)

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you picked up the sound of nearing voices and footsteps. 

Clock’s ticking, Yn. Come on, let’s find this thing and get the Hell out of here. 

Sweat began to dampen the fabric of your mask, and you could feel your fingers begin to shake. The voices had faded along with the footsteps, but you still could not find the file—

The door to the office crashed open, the handle slamming against the wall as the words “FREEZE!” erupted. 

Guns were pulled—the barrels of the Commissioner’s and an officer’s in your face, and the barrel of yours… you couldn’t—you simply could not decide who to shoot. And maybe it was that hesitation that spelled out your fate. 

Or it was the commissioner’s order for the officer to unmask you. 

Fear filled your veins like a drug, and that drug pumped action into your limbs, forcing you to do something. They needed you alive, damn it; at least, that was what you told yourself in some weak attempt to assure yourself as you slowly lowered yourself and your gun toward the ground. 

Your mind raced—the officer—the officer looked so familiar. Why did he look familiar to you?

Do it. Do it NOW. 

You flung yourself at the officer’s twig-like legs, arms wrapping around his knees to send him folding and doubling over, body crashing through the doorway. The commissioner’s shouts were loud, but for some reason, he wasn’t shooting you like you thought he would—or did you know he wouldn’t shoot if you didn’t first? The gun in your hand became a hammer as you smashed it across the officer’s face, your knee landing oh-so-sweetly in between his legs.

You got in his face; you knew why he looked so familiar now. “You cunt,” you sneered in his face. This was your father’s “man on the inside,” the assistant from earlier. 

Blood spilled from the gash you had dealt to his face. He bared his teeth. “Doing my job, bitch.” And with a bout of strength, he flipped the two of you over and made a grab for your mask. 

Panicpanicpanic—

You were ripped out from under the two-timing son of a bitch, the both of you heaving for breath as you were forced apart. 

The commissioner’s voice came from just behind you, and the realization that he was the one restraining you had you cursing inwardly. This couldn’t get any worse, could it? “Young, go get cleaned up, and for God’s sake, calm yourself, man.” He then addressed everyone else to scram, before hauling your arms behind you. You heard the telltale click of the handcuffs, your coffin lid closing into place. 

Namjoon nudged you in the direction of a hallway just to your right. “Come on,” he said, his tone tired. “I won’t unmask you out here unless you don’t cooperate.”

But he was still going to unmask you, right? Nonetheless, you cooperated, and let him walk you down the hallway into one of the interrogation rooms. When you had settled in the cold, steel chair, with your hands cuffed to the bar on the table, the commissioner settled in the seat across from you. 

“Would you like to call anyone before we begin?”

You shook your head. You didn’t even know your father’s new phone number, and he had never deigned to give you an outside way to contact him. There was this bitter twist of shame in your gut and the question of why you felt so ashamed to be caught loitered in your head. Was it because your father said you were supposed to be competent enough? 

He raised an eyebrow at you, incredulous. “You sure, kid?”

Your fingers curled into a fist, then unfurled. “I don’t have anyone to call,” you forced out.

You saw the pity in his eyes—hated it. He was standing up now, walking around the table to stand next to you. It was like slow motion. The mirror across from you gave you a front row seat to your own unveiling, as Commissioner Kim grabbed one ear of the cat mask and ripped the entire thing off your face.

a/n: listen... it's not as pathetic as it looks... okay maybe it is

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[swooningdelirium]

reddie? in 2024? embarrassing tbh but here’s a fluffy little sickfic i wrote last year

He awoke to a shiver that ravaged him from the inside out and rendered every last hair on his body standing on end. With sweat matting his hair to his temples, Eddie rolled over to check the digital clock on his bedside. His eyes burned, but he willed them to focus. When he could finally make out the numbers, he saw that is was just past 4AM. Eddie shuddered. Even through the veil of delirium that blurred the room around him, he could feel a cumbersome panic rise in his chest. As he placed a sweaty palm to his forehead, the placebo pills and waiting rooms of his childhood burst forth at nauseating speed. His stomach lurched. He shook his mother’s nagging voice from the recesses of his mind and assured himself that whatever was wrong wasn’t fatal. He was fine. It was all okay.

Richie still lay beside him, snoring softly. His body radiated a heat too alluring for a chilled Eddie to ignore. Eddie snuggled up closer to him, assuming the big spoon position for once, and whimpered:

“Richie, I don’t feel good.” He winced at how childish he sounded, but couldn’t help it.

Richie rolled over with a grumble, instinctively pulling Eddie in closer and burying his face into the pit of his shoulder. “Hm?”

“Rich…” Eddie trailed off, a lump beginning to form in his throat. “Something’s wrong.”

Richie jolted upright and switched on the bedside lamp, taking in Eddie’s pale, sweaty form for the first time. “…Oh. Yeah. You don’t look so good, baby,” Richie’s brows furrowed, his voice still thick with sleep. When he saw the anxiety flash across his love’s weary face, he quickly added, “You’re alright, though. I promise. I’m right here.”

He placed Eddie’s arm over his own shoulders and gently helped him sit up against the headboard. He leaned forward and planted a prolonged kiss onto Eddie’s forehead. He was, in fact, burning up. Shit. This would send him spiraling. He pulled Eddie’s head to his chest as hatred for his estranged mother-in-law flooded every fiber of his being. It broke him enough having to see Eds like this without thinking of all he had endured when they were kids. As if they weren’t already going through enough.

“It’s okay. Everybody gets sick,” Richie whispered into the top of Eddie’s head. “You definitely do have a fever, though. We’ll have to check on that. What else are you feeling right now, my love? What hurts?”

Before Eddie could answer, he erupted into a coughing fit that sent him barrelling toward the bathroom with Richie in tow. Just as he entered, Richie found him hunched over the toilet, retching. Tears streamed down his face. He knelt beside his partner and rubbed his back in soft, circular motions.

“I know, Eds,” he murmured. “I know. You’re okay.” Eddie gasped for air with each fleeting moment his stomach settled before inevitably starting again. Whether he was short of breath from pain or panic, Richie couldn’t tell.

When the vomiting subsided and Eddie nodded upon being asked if he was done, Richie led him back to bed and placed the lightest throw blanket on top of him. “Okay. I’m gonna go get you some medicine and some water. Anything else?” Eddie shook his head weakly. “Alright, my love. We’ll take your temperature when I come back too, okay?” He reached out to hold Eddie’s face and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. God, he was warm. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie opted to close his eyes for just a minute. A prolonged blink, really. It must have been longer, though. He only opened them again when the creak of floorboards indicated that Richie was back with supplies from their comically well-stocked medicine cabinet. He placed the thermometer and miscellaneous medications on the nightstand, immediately heading back toward the kitchen. Eddie heard faintly running water for a moment before the tap turned off and Richie returned with a washcloth and small bowl of water. He placed these items next to the others and reached for the thermometer.

“Okay. Let’s check that temperature now,” he said in that tone that always put Eddie at ease. The only voice that could bring him down from the panic. He leaned over his Eddie and placed the thermometer under his tongue, holding his hand while they waited for a reading.

At the tone, Richie removed the thermometer, which read 102.8. Eddie wouldn’t take that well. Inhaling sharply, he showed Eddie the number and squeezed his hand. “That’s alright. It just means your body is fighting extra hard, okay?” He felt Eddie’s already rapid breathing quicken, but he paused for a deep breath.

“Can you maybe take it again?” Eddie rasped, barely audible. His throat was still so raw from upheaving the contents of his stomach. “I just want to make sure.”

“Okay,” he murmured, kissing away a stray tear on Eddie’s cheek. “We’ll do it one more time.”

Once again, he placed the thermometer under Eddie’s tongue and waited for the tone. When he heard it, he removed it to see that it now read 103 on the dot. He gently pressed the power button and placed it back in the sleeve without showing Eddie.

“Yeah, honey. It was right the first time.”

“That’s a really high fever,” Eddie whimpered miserably.

“Oh, Eds. I know it’s scary.” Richie placed one hand on Eddie’s shoulder while he used the other to open the bottle of liquid cold and flu medicine. “You’re okay. It’s just a bug. Try not to let the number scare you too much. We’re gonna take that fever down, okay?” Richie extended the bottle cap full of medicine to Eddie’s mouth. “Drink this, baby.” Eddie obliged as Richie submerged the cloth into the bowl, wrung it out, and placed it on his forehead. He shivered against the sudden cold, but didn’t resist. “I know you’re already cold, but we have to bring this temperature down. It’ll make you better. I promise.”

Eddie nodded. He looked small. Smaller than Richie had seen him in as long as he could remember. He forced out the memory of a tiny, terrified Eddie in that dingy Neilbolt basement with his arm contorted at a sickening angle. He needed to be here, now. Eds needed him in the present.

Richie checked the clock. It was nearing 5 A.M. “I’ll call us both out of work a little later.”

“Do you think I’ll need antibiotics? Or maybe some infusions? What if this is serious? I think we should go-” Eddie winced. The thought of the hospital threw his stomach into another bout of nausea.

“How about this,” Richie began, “I’ll check your temperature again in an hour or so. If it isn’t any better, I’ll take you to the doctor. For now, though, I think it’s alright if we stay here. Just you and me. How does that sound?”

Eddie nodded weakly and reached his arms toward Richie.

“Yeah?” Richie whispered, climbing back into bed. “Do you just want to be held?” Eddie nodded again, a whimper escaping his throat. “Okay, why don’t you drink a bit more water for me and then you can try going back to sleep.”

Eddie obediently took some small, cautious sips before returning the glass to its place by the bed.

“Good job, baby. Now try and get some rest.” Eddie drifted off before he was even finished closing his eyes, but his husband remained awake, holding him close as he shivered through the sunrise.

…

It was only when he felt Richie’s lips on his forehead again that his eyes fluttered open.

“Hi,” Eddie smiled though his head was pounding and his body ached.

“Hi,” Richie pulled his love back into his arms. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmm-hm.”

“Good. Do you think you could eat anything right now? Crackers maybe?”

Eddie stifled a gag. “Definitely not,” he confessed.

“I didn’t think so. That’s alright. We’ll try and get something on your stomach in a little bit. How about we just take your temperature for right now?” Richie swallowed as he asked the question, praying the fever had gone down. What if it had gotten higher? Eddie would freak. His poor Eddie.

Eddie seemed to be reading his mind as he took in a shuddering breath. “I guess we should check it again.”

Richie planted a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek before taking the thermometer back out of the sleeve. “Okay, baby. You ready?”

Eddie parted his lips and raised his tongue. Richie winced as he watched the number on the screen climb past 101, then 102. He sighed in relief, however, once it stopped at 102.4 and the tone sounded.

“See?” Rich felt an immense weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re getting better already.”

Eddie heaved a sigh. “That’s still high,” he mumbled.

“It is,” Richie admitted, “but I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to get you better.”

Eddie rested his head on his husband’s chest, allowing Richie’s steady heartbeat to ease his own. “Okay,” he conceded. “Do you want to just go back to sleep for a little while?”

Rich chuckled as he wet the cloth again and gently dabbed his love’s forehead and cheeks. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He placed the washcloth back onto Eddie’s brow and held him tightly, wishing the roles were reversed. As terrified of germs as his Eddie was- as much as he had been through- it all fell by the wayside if Richie was sick. And though Eddie would make him see a doctor for so much as a head cold, he remained collected. All that mattered in the moment was that his love got better.

That’s what Richie would do for him now.

As Eddie turned to his side and his breathing evened, Richie covered the both of them with an extra blanket and held the cloth in place on his forehead so the boy he loved would sleep soundly.

[fffrost]

Please please share ur kenlao headcanons n stuff🙏🙏🙏🙏

AHAHA OH BOY! I didn’t expect my KenLao shit to hit it off so well- but yeah totally. I haven’t had a ton of time to give them much more thought than the surface level stuff. A lot of it relates to the way I personally view the characters so I hope it’s good.

Pre relationship summary:

They both kind of make the first move with each other, the current dynamic (and fic) I’m working on right now has it where gang reunites every so often as a whole group. Kung Lao and Kenshi end up hitting it off at one, and gradually over time while they mature and grow more comfortable with themselves and each other they talk more outside of these meetings.

Kenshi and Lao I think are both confident in a manner that manifests in being very forward with other people- which for them ends well. Kung Lao likes to flirt, and Kenshi isn’t against it, it doesn’t bother him. He warms up to Lao and they end up really enjoying each others presence.

For Head-canons, Particularly Kenshi, because of how I characterize him:

- Kenshi eventually (idk how to word this well) accepts his blindness- and doesn’t often use Sento to see. Partially because I hc it would be pretty jarring to have that weird mindfuck of the souls of your ancestors which live in your sword directly beam visions into your brain- and also because he straight up just can’t have a sword out all the time.

- just adding this: he uses sento while fighting. Of course, so most likely he uses the sight it grants him almost exclusively in combat.

- I haven’t gone super in depth into more head-canons on what sort of aids he would use, because I need to do more research, but I think he uses a cane when walking around, and maybe later he has a service dog.

I want to point out that I’ve seen a lot of people brush off his blindness in favor of just pretending he can see like normal because of sento… which really fails to see the full potential and worth of his blindness in his character arc. I don’t know much about blindness and I am going to do research to be able to characterize and write him correctly!

Anyway moving on since I just talked about Kenshi so much (I love him) here’s some basic hcs for them:

- they alternate who is the big spoon/little spoon often.

- Kung Lao (later in life, when their relationship starts) has tattoos! He also grows his hair out, and gets a few more (bridge piercing cameo) piercings.

- Kenshi obviously has a beard

- Kung Lao can’t grow an epic beard and instead just fawns over Kenshi’s. Kenshi is mildly annoyed by it (he loves it.)

- once they’ve built trust Kung Lao trims and tidies Kenshi’s beard.

- Kenshi likes to tie up Kung Lao’s hair

- Kung Lao picks outfits for Kenshi sometimes, once Kenshi has drilled the importance of cleaning up and looking good into him enough.

- Kenshi steals Kung Lao’s clothes. A lot.

- over time their relationship develops from casual to serious, Kung Lao is the first to realize it. It grows to the point where Kenshi can’t imagine spending his time with anyone else, or trusting anyone else with that side of himself.

- Kung Lao yearns for an active and dramatic life at first, and Kenshi knows how painful it can be, so it worries him.

- over time Kenshi mellows out Kung Lao, and Kung Lao introduces Kenshi to positive excitement.

- ^ Kenshi dislikes large gatherings (such as concerts) and amusement parks.

- Kung Lao loves training with Kenshi, due to the unique techniques Kenshi’s fighting style provides. Kenshi also helps Kung Lao with coaching Shujinko after the first time he biffed it, which was pre relationship.

- takeda comes into the picture also, but I am not sure how I want to fit him into their familial dynamic yet….

[atlafan]

GIRL PLZ SPILL ALLL THE TEA TOMORROW ABOUT THE DILF

LADIES ARE WE READY TO SIP BECAUSE HOOOOOOOOO MY GOD!!! (tmi under the cut, im about to get vulgar with it)

a 44 year old man just rocked my shit…twice! HE FUCKED ME TWICE

I don’t even know where to begin with this man. He got here around 11PM and then left around 1AM. Henry did really well with him, which was good. Then we went to my bedroom and it was sort of on from there??? He’s over six feet and has the most perfect body I’ve ever seen. Like he’s fit, but not overly jacked, but he’s strong and has plenty to grab at.

He got me naked and went down on me and fingered me for a bit. I was really nervous and kept getting close to coming, but I’ll be honest I faked the first couple orgasms because I was embarrassed that it was taking me a little longer to get there. And I was rubbing myself too, I was just nervy

Anyways, I got him naked and gave him one of my latex free condoms and we got to work. He threw my legs over his shoulders and bent me like a pretzel. Not the thickest dick I’ve ever had, but my man has length and it was hitting all the right spots. And he kept telling me how good I felt and how hot I was. I experimentally choked him and he told me I could do it harder and be in charge and I said, “I want you to be in charge” and this man’s hand came for my throat and he choked me and it was so good.

Oh! And you know what was so sweet beforehand? I was like if I go to your place you could murder me, and he said, “then let’s do your place so your dog is there and you feel safe” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

He kept checking in, telling me I was okay, asking if I was okay. Just very good soft dom????? I sucked on his fingers while he fucked me from the side it was so cute

We switched positions and I went on top, then I had him fuck me from behind. He pulled out and ate my asshole. Full tongue in my asshole. He fingered my ass too, but holy fucking shit best rim job of my life!!! Then he got back in and fucked me. I got really close but still couldn’t come. He had me get back on top of him, and I had him wet my fingers so I could rub my clit, and he kept telling me how hot I was. And I finally came. I gushed. And the aftershocks…the way he talked me through the aftershocks, oh my fucking godddddddd

then he asked if I would suck him off and I said ofc so I took the condom off and deep throated him, and he sounded kind of surprised when he told me how good I was at it??? I don’t think he was expecting it lmao and then I told him I wanted to come on my tits so he did. And I’m a little bit nasty so I rubbed it around my nipples

Then we cuddled and talked for a little bit. He spooned me. I honestly thought we were done, but he started fingering me again. He’s obsessed with my ass also 💅💅 most men are but he like couldn’t believe how nice my ass was. Oh and I asked if it was okay if I called him daddy and he said absolutely 🤠🤠🤠

I swear I thought he was trying to fist me, I squirted right into his palm and he rubbed it all over me. And then I was like let’s fuck again. So I got on top (after getting another condom) and I told him I needed him to talk to me so he did…the filthiest things came out of his mouth. He told me my pussy was his, that I needed to be a good girl and come, and I was chanting daddy over and over and when I finally came I almost started crying it felt so fucking good. I stayed on top of him and fucked him until I had another orgasm. Then I asked him to bend me over the bed, and he did

And then…he dragged me out to my hallway where my full length mirror is, bent me over, yanked my hair back and told me to watch. I almost fell to the ground my knees buckled lmao I could not believe this man!!! And then I sucked him off again, and then he asked me to play with his nipples so I sucked on one of them and I let him come all over me again

he put his pants on and I asked if we could cuddle again and he was all for it. I kept joking that he’d probably unmatch the second he got home because most guys say next time but never mean it. I’d like to believe he meant it when he said he’d come over and fuck me again, but I’ll let him message me. I am done being the one to do it. This was a hinge match. I don’t usually have good luck on hinge so this was a pleasant surprise!

Also…he knows one direction. (He has a 16 year old daughter with an ex wife, and a 16 month old daughter with another ex and he has full custody of the baby) but he didn’t know 1D because of his teenager. No, this man heard about Liam and then fell down a rabbit hole. So I was telling him about getting to see Zayn next month, and how I’ve seen Niall and Louis. (He knew about Harry because I have pics of him all over the house) and he told me the baby loves Kiss You and Midnight Memories 😭😭😭😭 I was dead it was too funny

Anyways, that’s my life!

[purble-turble]

Read that one “Mac and Azure kidnap Wukong together” AU idea and wrote a lil ficlet for it.

All things considered, the farmer’s life was nice. Peaceful. Relaxing, even.

Azure Lion was happy here. It wasn’t his ideal lifestyle; but it was good. The labor required to farm their food wasn’t too difficult for him (if anything, the hardest part was being gentle enough that he didn’t tear the leaves off a carrot while yanking it from the ground) and the isolation was calming.

It was home. Just for now, not forever, but it was home.

“Oy, Azure!” Macaque yelled out to him. He was holding a pot and mixing it with a spoon held by his tail. “Hurry up and get inside! I’m already halfway done with dinner over here.”

“Coming!” He called back, picking up his basket of root vegetables to join the shadow. “You know, gardening would go by a lot faster if you just had your clones do it.”

“And let you slack off all day as I do all the hard work? Nice try, Bud.”

Azure rolled his eyes before placing down the basket in the small kitchen and wandering into the bathroom to freshen up.

“All freshened up?” Macaque asked when he came back into the dining room.

“I tried to be quick about it.” Azure said as he caught the dishes Macaque tossed him, going to set the table. “Where’s Wukong?”

“That’s a dumb question,” Macaque snorted as he started bringing out the food. “He’s in the nest. I tried to take him out for awhile but he’s in another mood today.”

“Don’t be rude. You know how hard this is for him.”

“Well maybe he wouldn’t be having such a hard time if he just got with the program.”

“Macaque!”

“We’re both thinking it!“ the monkey snarled as he slammed the final, steaming pot down. “If he just got his shit together we wouldn’t even be here!”

“I know that! But the sickness in his mind-“

“Oh, again with “The Sickness”-“

“He does not know what he wants, Macaque. We must be patient with him. You know what they did to him.”

Macaque’s jaw snapped shut with a click, shifting his head to avoid eye contact. Azure Lion sighed, rounding the table to gently grip Macaque’s shoulder.

“I want him back just as much as you do. And it’s easy to blame him for what happened during his enslavement to the Emperor. But Macaque, it’s not his fault.”

“…sometimes, it feels like he’s choosing not to be himself.” Macaque mumbled, staring at the table.

“Macaque-“

“He’ll just. I’ll see him go for the throat of a demon he’s fighting or start laughing at a dumb joke or just stare down an enemy with that twinkle in his eye and for just a second he’s there.”

“I’m sorry, Macaque.” Azure Lion sighed, and Macaque’s head snapped up in shock.

“What?”

“I’ve been trapped in that scroll for so long, but you’ve been trying to find and save him for centuries. It’s easy for me to judge you for losing your temper with him but I was never put into the position you were of watching him whither away. I’m sorry.”

“…okay, yeah, same.” Macaque said, chuckling as he shrugged off Azure Lion’s hand. “I can’t get pissed off at you for just trying to help. Now let’s stop the mushy crap and get dinner started already. You mind getting Peaches? I’m gonna check to see if we have any wine left.”

“Of course.” Azure smiled, passing Macaque as he walked down the stairs. “See if we have any peach-flavored left.”

“I’ll see what I can do!”

Azure smiled before turning to the door, taking a deep breath and summoned his sword. He started unlocking the first of many locks.

Hopefully Wukong would be calm enough to have dinner without starting a fight.

Aaaaaa Anon this is freakin awesome!! Yes, thank you for sharing this I love it 😍😍😍

Such a good inclusion of Azure insisting that Wukong is not himself and needs them to save him. I adore that motivation for these yandere type villains, and it’s something I find especially fitting for the likes of Macaque and Azure.. they just want him back to the way he is supposed to be, after all~

[aajjks]

dress 1: https://pin.it/57mvaxMd7

dress 2: https://pin.it/3sAoaI0ss

dress 3: https://pin.it/7vH8E3fgN

🤭

DHP!JK

“shop to your hearts content” it’s a phrase that’ll have any girl squealing in happiness. the desire to spend anyone else’s money but their own brings bliss. not only to the heart but to the wallet as well. however, being alone for three years has humbled you and taught you how to budget from the check you’d earn. jaehan wasn’t consistent when it came to sending money to jungkook’s credit card, so if you wanted to keep the lights on, you applied at the banking company, and started making your own money.

eventually, pampering and shopping for yourself would have to wait since you had to buy laundry detergent, fabric softener, food, tissue, paper towels, and so much more. you had to pay your phone bill, the car note, insurance, and if crystal needed you to look after their niece, your money would go towards her too.

long story short, besides sunday, you haven’t bought shit for yourself.

the lady leads you to the dress section and allows you to pick out anything you wanted including pretty heels, designer bags, and accessories. you feel like a princess and when jungkook isn’t looking, you take two pills and swallow them with a spoonful of cold, vanilla ice cream. “Do you guys have a private dressing room?” your cheeks heat up; anytime jungkook mentions anything ‘private’ you know something private is going to happen.

jungkook takes your hand and follows the clerk with you by his side. once you’re both inside the dressing room, you watch the clerk hang the dresses up before leaving you both alone. jungkook locks the door, takes a seat on the leather couch, and sits in a ‘manspreading’ position. “Start stripping yn” he says with a smirk on his handsome features. sometimes you hate that he knows how sexy he is. “I will enjoy the show. And as you try these on, I will bring in more outfits of my choice and you will try them on for me”

“okay” you shyly say before slowly pulling your shirt over your head. you hand jungkook the plain white tee before bending down to untie your shoes and take them off. you unbutton your pants and slowly pull them down before folding them and handing them to jungkook along with your shoes. his eyes wander over your body before looking at his name on your collarbone.

you walk over to the dresses and try on three floral dresses. your favorite being the blue one but strangely, you feel a lot happier. your mind is at peace and the noise ceased. you wish you knew about this medication sooner.

“i really like this dress. what do you think…daddy?”

~🫧

Sexy.

You are the most sexiest woman he’s ever known or seen. He watches eagerly as you try on the dresses for him, his eyes intense as you show him,

He feels his mouth foam, the dresses fit your beautiful figure so well and the best part? They fail to cover his branding on your skin.

“Hmm I love them all but the last one is so sexy.” There’s something about the white floral dress that has his dick hardening even more.

“Come closer.” He pats his lap, spreading his legs further, “it really makes your breasts more fuller, and that little ribbon? Oh I want to untangle it.”

As soon as you approach him, Jungkook pulls you towards him, you seem to like the blue one, but he likes the last one, why? It really brings out your collarbone branding out.

And your tits look even fuller.

And the leg slit?

He’s going to fuck you in it. Right now.

He pulls you close enough to put you on his lap, you’re straddling him, and soon, he’s spreading your legs on either side of his waist.

“Sorry baby, daddy didn’t mean to manhandle you.” He presses a kiss to your neck, as he pushes your beautiful hair to the side. He proceeds to sniff you.

Your scent is so mouthwatering.

“We’re gonna buy all three, but right now I’m going to fuck you in this one.” He traces your collarbone, his mouth all over your neck in a second as he breathes heavily.

The lust he feels right now is driving him crazy, how are you so pretty. “Tell me, you want me inside you right fucking now.” He growls, sucking a hickey into your collarbone, as he begins to move his hips against the couch.

He will force a yes out of you right now. He licks your neck, he knows that his tongue drives you insane.

“Tell me you want my tongue inside your pretty pussy right now.”