#or pictures i did use just at another angle

[zhalfirin-binds]

Square antiprism box

Part I

(many thanks @queercus-books for finding out what that shape is called XD)

Over a year ago I saw this particular kind of box on the bookbinders fair in Leiden (NL). After having been recently reminded of them, I decided to give it a go and try to reverse engineer them from the pictures I found here (check out her other boxes, they are gorgeous!).

After staring at the original boxes for a bit, it was obvious they were not covered on the inside after gathering them. The pattern was visible in one consecutive pattern. It told me that a) the board was laminate with the patterned paper while still flat and b) the box was made from one piece, not single pieces glued together. For that the corners and edges needed to be scratched, but not cut through.

What stumped me in the beginning was what angle to pick for the walls. Naturally the base of each triangle had to be as long as the sides of the squares it connected to, but a too pointy angle at the tip resulted in long boxes that looked rather twisted than having that bulbous look I was looking for.

The solution (after some more staring and a few more paper models) was 'right angles'! Any square piece of board can be made into this box by marking out the center square and have the walls point away in right angles.

Next I cut away the parts that won't be needed (to make sure I don't cut one of the side walls off, I crossed them out). The net of polyhedrons for this box could look different than this and still give me this shape, but with the way the paper pattern is was not visibly interrupted I'm confident this is the net the Dutch bookbinder has used. (It also wastes the least material)

Now it was scratching the other lines just enough so they would bend nicely, but not get too weak to hold the structure and test assemble. Shallow cuts and test bending every now and then helps to get there (also a metal ruler to keep carving the same line)

Cutting the board half way through ended me up with those gaps though. I''m not sure how much they would show if I dressed them just like that, but I decided to not take the risk and reinforced them with a white paper just in case.

The white paper is really just a white strip of paper long enough to go all around the box and a bit wider than one of the triangles is high so I could have an overlap and reinforcement to the bottom too. Part of why I did this was also to see if covering the body would work as I thought it would. With the angled planes the strip of paper bends up and and down, but in the end it's still one straight strip of paper.

I let it dry a bit before adding another layer, this time with the patterned paper and turn in's on top and bottom. In hindsight I could have cut the turn ins to the inside at an wider angle to avoid them reaching onto the better visible part, but then. this is the first time I made this box so I take that as a lesson learned.

Now all it needs is a base and a lid and I'm done.

[non-sims]

Will they or Won’t they - picture leftovers (1/ ?)

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[0reblogufufu0]

Happy Birthday to @snoobins !

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical

↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker

↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule

• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death

• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night

• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way

• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind

• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly

• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out

• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile

• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear

• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit

• “Hey! Watch it!”

• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair

• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways

• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass

• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard

• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now

• “Not exactly.” He huffed

• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting

• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact

• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so

• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids

• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles

• But you? Well—

• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”

• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake

• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously

• “Uh, my bad?”

• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half

• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise

• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles

• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously

• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement

• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that

[dee-the-red-witch]

How to ACTUALLY date a trans girl

(This column was originally submitted to Autostraddle as a reply to their "A Trans Guy’s Guide to Picking Up a Trans Girl" but since they've apparently passed on it, it gets to be posted up free everywhere else instead.) Picture this- you’re a trans woman who’s been in transition for three years now. Your dating life has gone from abysmal to amazing in alternate fits and spurts and you’ve found not just one, but three awesome partners despite the many, MANY pitfalls you’ve experienced along the way. And then one day, your social media feeds ping up with screencaps of a guide to picking up girls like yourself. Needing a good laugh, you click through. And read. And proceed to smack your forehead with your own palm in frustration a few times and giggle and some other lines on the first readthrough. But things feel off, so you read again. And begin to seethe. And then start opening up the Word document and start typing frenziedly into it. Because honestly? At the end of the day, as a trans lesbian who dates all sorts of people on non-male parts of the amorphous spectral mass that is Gender, I feel like I’m obligated to. I wanted to go into that first reading and find a column that actually got things right, and this was so far off the mark in the worst ways, so I feel like I have to set some things down on paper. Because this guide reads, in so many ways, like everything my cisfem friends have complained about in the straight dating scene for years. Reading through it that second time, I felt almost the exact same sense of of sheer grease and sleaze that I’ve felt reading incel pickup guides. I felt like I was being seen as a pretty object at best and a disposable sex toy at worst. I wasn’t treated as human. At best it was a bunch of stereotypes, none of which applied to me. But under it all, I saw other bits- the tricks an abuser used to lure me in. The lies my rapist fed me. The excuses made by folks online for why I should be treated like a monster or thing because of my identity. You know, the specific blend of misogyny that singles out transfem identities in general- transmisogyny. And since we’re addressing the elephant in the room, I want to address a few particular points from Gabe’s article before I give you some real idea of how to go about this. And I want to emphasize here- this is after editing out a page of swearing, going over Gabe’s own past history of transmisogynistic writing, and just cutting it down to the actual points where the original article really went wrong, and also pick up a few points at the end that’ll actually work well for trans guys or anyone else who might be interested in a relationship with a trans girl. First off, if you’re trans as well? Stop playing the ‘we’re both trans’ card. ESPECIALLY if you’re coming at it from a ‘Why yes, I used to be a woman’ angle. For one, you’re telling us at the same time that you see us as former men, which is usually very much not the transfem experience (Personally, I always felt like I was putting on a ‘man’ act. All the time. Badly.) and for another, you’re being transphobic to yourself and your own identity. If we’re there to date you, it’s as the man you are- be that guy.

Secondly, just because the trans woman experience shares similarities with the experience you had trying to be a woman up until you came out and transitioned, it also has staggering fundamental differences, and your attempts to relate are going to highlight those differences in ways that aren’t going to work in your favor. We didn’t get to go shopping in public, or if we did, it was fraught with fear at being caught out in the early stages of transition, followed by massive frustrations with both trying to figure out where we fit into women’s sizing. And then discovering that absolutely nothing available in local stores, including thrift shops, would fit right, especially not that cute choker we’d always been drooling over. That nothing smelled right for lotion or perfume because we were dealing with a body chemistry that was going through a slow shift on HRT. And we don’t need or want to be reminded of just how much we stand out from the other girls in those kind of regards.

Also, maybe, just maybe, don’t do things that would get seen as completely misogynistic and creepy if you pulled them on a cisgender woman. Don’t go digging into her socials- stalkers and chasers pull that crap and it’s beyond tiresome. Don’t try to deduce what her pretransition life was like, that’s for her to share, if she chooses to. Don’t see her as a stereotype- some of us never played New Vegas, owned cat ears, or like thigh-highs. On that first date if you ever get there, don’t bring her flowers, lovebomb her like mad, constantly find little ways to touch her, any of that- if she has any experience, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop in response, because she’s had this treatment before and it ended oh so badly. Just be yourself. And get it through your head that the bear is still definitely a choice regardless of everything- after all, we have examples like Gabe to prove that transmisogyny certainly isn’t limited to cis folks.

What should you do? Treat her like any other woman. Treat her like a human being, because we get so little of that, even from the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community. Yes, you’ll more than likely have to take initiative, because we’re used to seeing our attractions, needs, and desires as being perceived as aggressive or predatory by others. When you touch her, do it with assertion and intent- none of the little brushes and stalker moves- ask if you can hold her hand, or put an arm around her, so she knows you actually want to be here and want contact with her. Listen to her, and pay attention- let her be open and honest about her experiences and interests, and remember what she tells you, because she’s going to need to know that she’s wanted and valued for who she is and what she’s into, and it will be part of how she connects to you. And finally? Common sense and communication- every last one of us is different in a lot of ways, and asking or making room to talk about things from physical contact and sex to social activity or group outings or anything else can save a lot of blunders from ever happening. All in all you can and should date trans women! Please! A lot of the best relationships I’ve ever had were with other trans girls and I don’t regret any of those. But you have to put down the pickup guides, stop seeing us as fetish dispensers and sexy lampshades, and actually deal with us as people, first.

[verstappen-cult]

taking funny photos of charles with max when he’s sleeping cause of his bedhair and the way he’s drooling all over his pillow, just to accidentally wake him up with ur giggles

“Shh, you’re gonna wake him up if you keep that up.”Max says, standing next to you and trying not to laugh too.

You’re standing on the bed, each of you at either side of Charles, hovering over his body.

“But I can’t,” You cover your mouth with your hand, stifling a giggle after taking another picture of him.

Charles hasn’t cut his hair in over a month, which means his bed hair is… something.

You like when your boyfriends decide to let it grow, it is not often because they need it short for their job, so you try to enjoy as much time as you can. Taking pictures when they are sleeping is something you enjoy very much.

“You’ve never done this to me, right?” Max asks and you look at him from the corner of your eye, grabbing your phone with a little more force than necessary, in case he decides to take it from you.

Max definitely doesn’t need to see the hundreds and hundreds of photos you’ve taken of the both of them in compromising situations.

“He’s drooling!” You slap Max on the shoulder to shut him up, which makes Charles groan in his sleep.

Thankfully, he keeps sleeping so you take a couple of more pictures from different angles.

“Now let me.” Max tries to take the phone from your hands but you move to the side which makes him lose his balance. He wave his hands in the hair trying to grab onto something, panic crossing his features.

“Oh my god you should see your face!” You exclaim, forgetting about your other boyfriend still sleeping. Of course you don’t waste any time to take a picture of Max before he, finally, grabs onto the headboard.

“You delete that immediately.”

You giggle, hiding your phone behind your back. “I did not do anything.”

“Y/N,” He says your name with that serious tone he only uses when talking about important things, the one he uses during meeting with Red Bull.

“But you look cute.” You look at him from beneath your eyelashes, showing him the picture.

“Delete that abomination!”

“Wha– what are you doing?”

You and Max share a panicked look before looking down at Charles who is rubbing the sleep from his eyes, confused expression in his face.

“Is that,” His eyes are locked on the phone on your hand. “Were you taking pictures of me?! Why?!”

“Yeah, Y/N. Why were you doing such a thing?” Max crosses his arms over his chest, pretending to be offended.

“What?! You were in this too!”

“Don’t believe anything she says,” The blonde-haired boy looks at his boyfriend with the most innocent look on his face. “I was trying to protect your dignity.”

You gasp, surprised but amused too. “Just because of that everyone will see the hundreds of pictures I have of the both of you that you don’t even know about.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles tries to defend himself but you are too busy having a staring contest with your Dutch boyfriend.

Things seems to have calmed down, but then, before anyone can know what is happening, you’re running out of the room with Max following you closely while Charles tries to look for some clothes in his still very sleepy state.

[vngelicc]

3 D

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : pimp au.

t a g s : pimp!jk debut(!!!!), some degradation, jk watches videos and looks at ur nudes, masturbation, blowjobs, cum swallowing, head pusher!jk, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting(duh), phone sex(?), daddy kink but brief in some scenes, jk is whipped for his pretty gf :( , nasty dirty talk

w o r d c o u n t : 3.2 k

s u m m a r y : “I wanna see it in motion, in 3D. Cause you know how I like it, girl,” or: Jungkook wants the real thing and not some picture or video. Only thing is he’s on a business trip.

Jungkook tosses his phone off to the side with a quiet “fuck” under his breath. It’s only been three hours since he touched down in LA and not once did you leave his mind even during the long flight on his way over. He thought that after a much needed nap he’d wake up refreshed but it was quite the opposite. However, as soon as his eyes fluttered open he felt the tightness down below in his sweats—cock chubbing up and throbbing painfully through his boxers.

He tried easing the tension by rubbing his hand over the tent at first, he sighed quietly in relief as his hand slipped under his sweats and into his boxers. His cock sat hot and heavy in his hand, twitching when he ran a thumb over the leaky head. “Fuck.” He softly repeats while letting his head fall back on the pillow.

Jungkook’s eyes slip shut as he swallows harshly, he focuses on the hot pleasure boiling in his lower abdomen while slowly working his cock up and down with his thumb swiping over the tip. He pictures you in his bed after a nasty little pussy eating session laying there all fucked out with your thighs still spread and pussy out for him to look at. He swears he can taste you on his tongue just thinking about it.

His lips part as another breathy moan escapes his throat, he lazily flicks his wrist and strokes over his cock while more images of you flash in his mind. He groans out loud at a particular stroke, eyebrows pinching together in concentration as he struggles to keep the same angle and rhythm. Jungkook starts thinking about your ass—your soft, round, apple-bottom shaped ass.

God he just wanted to have his hands over both cheeks, gripping them tight and giving them a couple slaps here and there. His favorite thing to do was fuck you doggy just to watch the way your ass recoiled whenever he slammed in, the bounce was crazy as all he could do was watch in awe as you threw your ass back on him, doughy cheeks colliding against each other or his pelvis.

A low groan of frustration escapes him as he stops stroking himself all at once, slumping over in bed as he lays there staring at the ceiling trying to ignore the heat in his lower belly. He was not having it. He picked his phone up and immediately clicked on his private photos, biting his lip as his screen blew up with endless pics of you or some body part of yours.

He chewed on his lower lip while mindlessly scrolling through the pretty lingerie and ass pics you sent him almost a week ago. A low whistle leaves him, “Goddamn.” He muttered under his breath, he wanted the real thing but sadly these would have to do for now.

Jungkook palms his cock lazily once more, he wraps his fist around the swollen shaft and gives it a small squeeze. He’s even fucking harder now just looking at your pictures rather than before when he was just going off of by memory. He swipes and comes across a photo of your naked body only clad in a pretty g-string. He hisses low at the sight of the string swallowed up between your soft ass cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans in frustration once more, “this isn’t fucking working.” He stops touching all at once and tosses his phone away, a cold shower will have to do, no use in working himself up if he can’t jack off in peace because it’s not the same.

Jungkook sits up and looks off to the side, this is gonna be a long week without you (at least he had his videos though).

.

Two days. That’s how long Jungkook lasted.

After he finished up with his meetings throughout the day, he slipped into his hotel room and locked himself in for the night. God he missed you so much, he wondered what you were doing back at the club. Were you dancing? Playing? Were you missing him as much as he missed you?

Jungkook was half-tempted to call but he decided against it, while it was barely sundown where he was at, he assumed it was literally nighttime/the next day back at home with you. He settled for a hot shower, dimmed lights, and his phone. He went into the same private collection from before and clicked on one of the many videos he had in store.

He licks his lips hungrily and gets comfortable on the bed, hand dipping down to stroke over his hard-on sitting in his boxers:

“C’mere baby,” Jungkook lazily says, “daddy had a rough day.” He eyes you up and down appreciatively, admiring the way your new corset you bought looked on you. “Ah-ah, you know how I like it baby, why don’t you go on and make me proud yeah? That’s it.” He grins softly, watching as you drop down on your hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him with a devious smile.

“Like this daddy?” You softly say with a sway of your ass.

He groans quietly and nods, “Fuck yeah,” he man spreads invitingly while watching with hooded eyes, “those the new heels I got you baby?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Mm-hm,” you nuzzle into his thigh and press your cheek against him, “pretty aren’t they? Wore them just for you, don’t you think I look pretty?” You pout while giving him those sweet puppy eyes of yours.

Jungkook brings his hand down to cup your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek as he took his time to admire your beauty, “Course, my baby always looks so pretty.” He brings his thumb down on your bottom lip, “But she’d look prettier with a mouth full of cock, don’t you think?” He smirks. You softly moan with a nod and he gently tilts your head up by your chin, “Then why don’t you show me just how pretty you are baby?”

You stare back at him like you’re hypnotized, your small hands come up to undo his belt, the sound of his zipper being pulled fills the space between you two. Jungkook leans down to give you one soft peck on your lips before he’s sitting back like the kingpin he is, arms stretched across the back of the velvet sofa. He watches hungrily as your soft hand wraps around his swollen cock, the sight is obscene given that you can’t even fully close your fist around his cock.

“Go on baby,” he breathes out, “slip me in your pretty little mouth.”

You obediently lean forward, lips parted in a ‘o’ as you slip the head into your mouth. He groans quietly at the sight of your glossy red lips wrapped around his cock. You tongue at the slit of his cock, swiping your tongue over the head in repeated motions—left, right, left right. Your hand gently pumps the rest of his cock, you move slowly and twist your hand when you reach the base of his cock before bringing it back up with a nice grip.

“Fuck,” he sighs as he throws his head back with a hum.

You pull back with a wet pop and bring your hand over the tip, smearing your spit all over his cock as you use it to get the rest of his cock slicked up. After stroking him a couple of times you take his cock back into your mouth, this time pushing down until the head hits the back of your throat with a audible gag.

He swears under his breath and reaches up to bury his tattooed hand in your hair. You blink the tears away and bob your head slowly—swallowing messily around his cock. The noises he makes has your thighs pressing together in an effort to suppress your throbbing clit. Not to mention he looks so hot with his head thrown back and his mouth open.

“There you go baby, doing so good,” he pants softly, “tight little throat—’s like you were made for my cock, tight little cocksleeve.” He bites down on his lip and comes back to look down at you, “Love my cock don’t you?” He pats your head, watching in amusement as you moan and nod for him, “Course you do.”

You swallow noisily, slurping up the excess saliva you leave on his cock as you pull back to pop him out of your mouth, “ ‘s mine isn’t it daddy? No one else can have your cock but me right?” You pout while rubbing the tip over your lips, as if you were coating them in a shiny layer of gloss.

Jungkook nods, “Only yours baby.” He reaches down to grip his cock and guide the head back between your lips, “Nobody else does it like you,” he mumbles while watching you take his entire cock down your throat once more.

You reach up to cup his swollen balls in your hand, pairing it with powerful sucks as you hollow your cheeks. His lips part in surprise, a strangled groan leaving him when you begin massaging his balls while bobbing your head much quicker than before. He can’t help himself anymore, he reaches back down and begins pushing your head against his lap. Each push has you taking him deeper and deeper, until your nose is flush against his pelvis.

“Fuck..!” He moans out when you gag around him, your throat constricts tightly around his cock and it has him struggling to keep his composure. “Shit–gonna cum baby,” he breathes out while reaching into his pocket for his phone.

You hum in acknowledgment while bobbing your head to the best of your ability. Jungkook manages to record you sucking him off before he’s suddenly holding you still with a low moan as he cums down your throat. His cock throbs intensely as hot spurts of cum fill your mouth. “Fucking shit,” he shakily breathes out while running a hand through his hair and zooming in on your swollen lips that are still wrapped around his cock.

You pull back with a low pop, lips smeared in a shiny coat of spit and cum, “Am I prettier now?” You smile brightly.

“Fuck yeah,” he sighs in pure bliss while tossing his phone to the side, that was the meanest suck you ever given him.

+

Jungkook breaks on the fourth day.

“Jungkook!” Your happy little voice rings in the quiet hotel room, “I missed you lots, how’s LA like? Oooh can you bring me back something, pretty please!” You pout while snuggling into the many Kuromi plushies you begged him to buy you.

He bites his lip when he sees the state you’re in—practically naked with nothing but a white spaghetti top and your cheeky lace panties. He feels his cock instantly grow hard at the sight, “Hi baby,” he murmurs, “what’s my pretty girl up to hm? Heard about how wild the other night was for you.” He tries not to get jealous at the thought of so many men being around you, Namjoon had reported that the club was busier that night and it only progressed into something wilder when you came out to dance.

“Oh! Yes! Lots of people came the other night and it was just crazy in there, they literally had to use a broom to collect all the money I made during my dance. Joonie also had to tell ‘em I wasn’t available for private dances.” You blow a raspberry, “But anyways, it’s pretty boring without you here. I went shopping with the girls and today,” you ramble on and on.

He groans pitifully when his cock twitches in interest after you had rolled over laying on your tummy, he had caught a glimpse of your pretty ass and it was game over then and there. “Fuck baby,” he sighs, “you’re making it hard for me, ‘s not fair that I can’t have you here with me.” He mutters.

You giggled softly, “Awww, you miss me that much?” You coo softly, “Anything I can do to make it better? Hm?”

“Yeah, why don’t you turn ‘round and show me your pretty ass baby?” Jungkook bites his lip while reaching inside his boxers to stroke his cock.

In a heartbeat you set the phone up against the pillows and sit up on your knees, turning to show off the curve of your ass. “Like this?” You smirk softly, teasingly poking your ass out and swaying your hips side to side.

“Just like that,” he groans, “make it bounce for me baby, wanna see it,” he whispers while rubbing his thumb over the tip in quick little swipes. He nearly moans out loud when you bend over on all fours, ass bouncing just for him as your doughy cheeks jiggle from your movements, “Fuck I wish you were here,” he swallows harshly while keeping his eyes locked on your ass, occasionally his gaze falls down to your chubby little pussy which is kept hidden by your panties.

“Me too..’s not the same with my fingers,” you wiggle your ass and bend lower until your chest rests on the bed and your back is arched with your ass raised high. “Not even the vibrator you got me works.” You petulantly whine.

“Fuck, I promise when I get back I’ll fuck you as long as you want,” he breathes out while stroking his cock faster, “gonna have you pumped full of my cum, till you’re drippin’, you’ll be a good girl and clean it up won’t you?” He licks his lips.

You nod eagerly, “Course.” You reach behind to spread your cheeks apart, giving him a small little peek of your cunt. He groans loudly when he sees a small dark wet patch over the center, he just wants to bury his face between your cheeks and eat your pussy out till you’re crying and begging him to stop.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” he groans, “lemme see your little pussy, pull those panties to the side for me,” he watches as your fingers come down to hook around the fabric, he nearly blacks out when you yank them to side and show off your cunt to him. He swears he even sees a string of slick between your chubby folds.

Jungkook cums so hard he feels like his vision goes black. He slumps against the bed with a low moan as cum covers his fist and cock, some of it even landed on his pelvis—further making a mess of himself. “God I miss you,” he mutters, “just a few more days baby.” He licks his lips, “Then I’m all yours.” He grins.

“Can’t wait.” You smile dopily, “Sweet dreams.” You coo.

+

Jungkook can’t wait anymore. As soon as his plane touches down and the driver takes him home, he’s booking it straight to the bedroom. You had sent him a flirty message along with a picture of yourself in nothing but a thong waiting for him in bed with a cheeky little: don’t be late!

He stumbled through the door, eyes narrowing in on you. You licked your lips slowly and spread your thighs apart for him, “This what you were missing?” You teasingly slid your hand over your pussy, “I know you want me,” you softly whisper while pulling your thong to the side, “so come and get it.”

With that he climbs over on the bed, bringing you down as he slams his lips into yours rather harshly. You moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, his hands are everywhere all at once. He goes from cupping your tits to cradling your ribs and then sliding down to your ass. It feels good to be holding your soft cheeks in his hands once more.

“I missed you so fucking much baby,” he growls softly, “thought ‘bout this pretty little ass and pussy night and day.” He lays kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“Well now you’re here,” you moan softly.

Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna show you how much I missed you,” he breathes out while sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your pussy. He doesn’t hesitate to tear the thong off and toss it somewhere, he brings your thighs up and over his shoulders as he goes to town on your aching cunt.

He covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth, licking and sucking wildly at your folds, clit, and slicked up hole. You bury your hands in his hair with a loud moan, pushing his head down as you feed your cunt to him. Loud slurping noises fill the space between you two, his tongue runs over your clit in quick flicks going side to side. Your lips part as breathy whines and cries escape.

“Fuck right there,” you sob out while holding his head still, “w-want more..! ‘M too empty.” You buck your hips.

Jungkook isn’t in the mood to tease, he brings his finger up and prods at your tight little hole. Your mouth falls open when he opens you up with one digit, and then another. He hums as he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, harshly sucking on the sensitive little bud while he fucks his fingers into your throbbing cunt.

“J-Jungkook..!” You sob out while arching your back.

Your legs quiver from the harsh stimulation, you don’t know whether you want to beg him to stop or beg him for more. Jungkook however doesn’t let you think straight with the way he’s sucking on your clit and finger fucking you into another universe. His fingers perfectly strike your g-spot with each thrust making your pussy drip and gush around his fingers.

He pulls back to blow on your clit teasingly, “This is exactly how I wanted you—spread out like a little slut with your needy pussy in my face. Look at you,” he chuckles, “practically humping my hand with how desperate your little pussy is.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss over your clit, “Gonna be a good girl and squirt on my fingers?”

“Y-Yes!” You throw your head back, “ ‘m your good girl.” You weakly croak out while grinding your pussy on his fingers.

Jungkook laughs under his breath, “Go on then, cum on my fingers,” he leans down to envelop your clit in his mouth, suckling with a hint of teeth.

Your mind blanks out as you go stiff, your hands grip his hair tightly and you feel your cunt pulse wildly. Your orgasm hits you hard as spurts of slick squirt out from your abused cunt. You throb around his fingers and weakly try to push him away, “ ‘s too much..” You whine tiredly while shaking, “No moreeee,” you pout.

Jungkook pulled away with a smirk, “Messy little thing you are,” he says this as he wipes his lower lip/chin. You grumble back at him and roll away to lay on your side, “What was that, I couldn’t hear you.” Jungkook says while going over to lay on top of you, “What did you say?” He grins as he peppers your ear with tiny kisses.

“I said you broke my pussy, my leg keeps shaking.” You huff, “Get off you’re heavy!” You whine whilst wiggling around.

“Who did?” Jungkook just lives to annoy you.

“You did!” You whine louder.

“That’s right,” he smacks your ass hard, feeling accomplished with himself.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

[erwinsvow]

shy reader sending rafe nudes for the first time🫢

rafe was so nice to you. his new favorite hobby seemed to be spoiling you—it seemed there was an endless influx of shopping trips and things getting delivered to your house after being mentioned once. you don't know how he always got it right, the exact color you wanted or the perfect size. especially when you weren't even sure which style was the best or were having trouble picking between two. rafe would decide for you, usually picking right or just ending up buying both.

he was very good at this whole thing, and though you had trouble accepting his genoursity at first, you felt you were growing into it quite nicely.

the constant denial that you wanted something turned into a sweet, grateful smile when rafe offered to get it. worrying about how expensive something was long-forgotten, instead you gave rafe a kiss on the cheek instead of mentioning it.

and the best part was that he liked it, liked taking care of you, liked making sure you had the things you wanted. he'd even gotten a shiny silver credit card with his name on it, had insisted that you use it for things.

"what kinda man am i, huh? if my girl has to buy herself nice things. that's no way to treat your best girl, huh?"

mostly he just wanted to hear you call yourself his girl, but it was getting easier and easier to swipe it out and about.

you fell into the trap of the saleswoman at the lingerie store—you'd come once before to buy some nighties when you started sleeping over at tannyhill every single night. you'd handed her the silver card, thinking about what rafe had in store for you if you showed up wearing what you'd just bought, when she snapped you out of it

"is that all for today mrs. cameron?"

she'd transported you into a completely different spiral. so you had returned with a craving to hear yourself be called that again, buying anything and everything that caught your eye, but mostly things that you thought rafe would like.

on your way out, still elated from the sheer headrush of being called mrs. cameron, you don't even notice the missed call and texts from rafe, not until you get home and put on the first of many new outfits.

rafey: what the hell is la perla. the fuck did you buy for $500??

dolled up in your new outfit, you angle yourself to snap a couple of pictures with your phone, the first showing your tits spilling out of the pretty, floral bra and panty set. then you laid down, trying to capture your ass and the best arch you could manage without rafe there to push your back for you. trying on another thing you'd bought, this time a pretty white babydoll, you take a selfie showing just enough of the fabric.

sending the photos without any caption, you wait patiently for the response. but seconds turn into minutes, minutes into ten and twenty, while you wonder if you overstepped, if rafe was displeased at your purchases, at the waste of money.

rafe opens the door so hard it slams, and you flinch.

"get on the bed. now." like always, you comply. you guess he wasn't so mad after all.

[tojisun]

!! minors dni; simon x cam girl f!reader; kinda sexting; UNEDITED and RAMBLING // divider by @/plutism <3

yall know those ‘ask me’ thingies in instagram and how theyre not anonymous? mmmprmn thinkin about simon finally giving in and sends cam girl! reader replies (he’s not tech savvy, forgive him 😔)

the questions are always fashioned the same way, he’s noticed. you only ever post those, anyway, when you’re in the middle of editing a new video but it’s taking too long so to keep your loyal viewers interested, you entertain them with little questions.

“which toy next?” you posted, showcasing four different sex toys splayed on your bed—a purple sucking vibrator, that bullet vibrator you’ve made multiple videos on, a rainbow-coloured dildo, and another one that squirts which is simon’s favourite if he’s being honest.

you always did cum the hardest when you’re being pumped full. simon wonders how much more intense would it be if you were properly fucked and filled; stuffed continuously, repeatedly, until your pussy’s all wet and sensitive. until it takes—

overtaken by his desire, he gives in and he types out his answer, “a real prick would look better in you.”

he didn’t expect you to see it, let alone for you to reply, but you did and simon reads it with a huff.

> ok troll

i’d volunteer myself, really. <

> yeah right. like i can trust you

what? you want proof that i can make you feel good? <

your reply doesn’t come in and he knows that you must want the whole interaction to end there, but simon won’t let you—doll, he’s finally managed to talk to the girl he’s been fantasizing about, did you really think he’d let the opportunity pass? you don’t even know how many times he’s fucked his fist to the videos of you bullying a dildo in your sopping cunt or the ones of you squirting while you ride that saddled vibrator that punches out guttural moans from the base of your throat.

jesus, just thinking about you mewling and creaming, your skin shimmering with your sweat, has simon chubbing up in his sweats.

so he gets bolder, changing his accounts—both this and the one he’s used to subscribe to your site—so that you know it’s him. he uploads pictures, exposing enough of himself that it feels real and authentic, and begins to tack on messages to every tips he gives.

it takes about two months until you finally caved.

> so… youre not a troll :(

why the sad face? did you want me to be? <

> course not!

> hby? what do YOU want

simon licks at his chapped lips, his legs unconsciously spreading already.

how about pics? show you what i was volunteering? <

> uh

> you wanna send a dick pic?

yeah. evens out the relationship, don’t it? after all, i just about know how your pussy looks and how it squirts. <

> youre soooo weird LOL

> but sure yea why not ig

simon snorts because try as you may, you don’t sound unbothered at all. after all, he knows you’ve been looking back at him—you followed him back in his socials, you even respond to all his tips and messages, and one time you even moaned his alias out loud during your stream. really, you’re not subtle with your own interest at all.

he pulls his sweats down and takes a pic of his half-chub. it’s a little blurry, and the angle captures more of the tuft of hair than the way his cock’s all flushed and filling-out, but simon knows what a decent dick picture looks like—they’ve all received numerous from mactavish—and this one looks good enough so he sends it to you and watches as his message goes from delivered to seen.

you don’t reply right away, nor after three minutes—he knows because the commercials ended and his game’s back on—and simon wonders if you’re back to ignoring him when—

> oh

> thats a good dick

he laughs, booming.

oh so you want it now? <

a speech bubble appears, then it disappears, then it appears again. this happens for a while and it’s somewhat entertaining to simon, mirth filling him up. then, you finally send your reply and this time simon couldn’t stop the barked out laughter that rumbles from his throat because you sent him your address.

simon’s out the door in minutes, his bike keys clutched in his fist.

[hiraethwrote]

NEVER GOT YOUR NAME

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader ✧ summary: based of this drabble — you're ex is borderline harassing you. he just will not leave you alone, and in a desperate attempt to get him off your back, you tell a little white lie. in panic, you grab the first stranger to walk by and introduce him as your date ✧ cw: fluff, light profanity, one little comment about previous sexual relationship, arguing, word vomit ngl (i'm describing too much sorry) pining, reader is smaller than satoru, mild use of petnames, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.5k

He was a menace. A true and genuine menace, who seemed to have some sort of natural ability in finding you, no matter where you were.

Maybe getting a restraining order was the next step — there was no way he managed to just randomly run into at the rate that he was, whether that was in the grocery store, the gas station or just on the street. No, he had to be stalking you, right? The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give this guy, your god awful ex, the privilege of fulfilling his desires of bumping into you.

Yet, here you stood in front of him again.

His eyebrows pinched together, an innocent little smirk tilting his mouth crooked, feeding you the same lines he always did.

“Great seeing you again,” like you hadn’t ran into him not even three days ago. “You look fantastic, as always. How’ve you been, sweets?” Urgh, one of the many nicknames he had named you — your stomach turning at the sound of it. You were scared you might actually hurl.

“Stop calling me that,” you demanded, keeping your voice low. He always managed to bring your anger right to the surface, to which you had to use all your energy not to blow up in his face. It had already happened once, about two months after you broke up with him. You had raised your voice at him and lashed out, causing some random bystander to interfere — who had then proceed to take his side. Unbelievable, as if he wasn’t the one who had taken you for granted for the entirety of your relationship.

“Sorry, old habits die hard, you know.” So full of shit. You’d been broken up for months, there shouldn’t have been any problem dropping the pet names. He only did it as a tactic to try and manipulate you into his arms again. And to think you willingly used to sleep with this guy. “Since we’re both here, why don’t we grab lunch together?”

“Oh, please,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’ll be good for us, sweets-“ don’t punch him, don’t punch him, don’t punch him. “Maybe we can talk some things-“

“I’m actually here on a date!”

Finally he shut up, only for his face to twist into an expression of pure disgust. It was clear the idea had never even crossed his mind — and you would have been able to enjoy his agony had it not been for the fact that it was a complete and utter lie, thrown out in a moment of desperation.

What were you to do when your ex decided to wait around for your date to arrive, and he never showed? You could already picture his face — the patronising pity he would pay you, while you’d be able to read his satisfaction behind his eyes, as he would use it against you for months to come.

You had only bought yourself some time and you needed to think fast.

“Who? I mean, do I know them? Have you met them before?” He stuttered out questions of bewilderment as your limbs were growing ever more frantic at your side.

And then the bell above the entrance of the cafe chimed a sweet tune, eyes snapping towards the sound. “Ah, there he is!” Your arms acted on their own accord, hands grabbing onto the bicep of the person who had been so unfortunate to walk in right as you were spiralling.

Swallowing the worst of your anxiety, you dared turn your head towards the random person, hoping to god he wasn’t ugly (because that would just be yet another thing your ex would badger you about).

Due to his height, you had to angle your head more than expected to meet his piercing eyes that were ogling you with complete confusion — but you only had time to take in his appearance for a slit second before you shot him a pleading look, betting everything on the off chance that he would be able to read the situation — but also finding it in himself to play along to your little performance.

Your fingers squeezed lightly at his arm, bringing him back to reality. Then it only took him a second to make up his mind, the white haired stranger wiping off his confusion and confidently throwing his muscular arm across your shoulders. Once he turned to face your ex, he had painted his features with the smuggest grin one could imagine, revealing a charming dimple.

He tilted forward slightly, which only brought more attention to how much taller he was than your ex, and shot his hand out between them. “Satoru, pleasure to meet you.” His tone matched his expression, not a single speckle of insecurity to pick up on anywhere. Your ex stared at his hand with disdain before begrudgingly accepting the gesture and introducing himself in return. “Hm, don’t think she’s mentioned you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, not expecting this Satoru to take his role so seriously — and then put on an award winning show right off the bat, nonetheless. Was it finally your turn to be blessed by the universe with some good karma in the shape of the most perfect stranger to deal with the situation?

Turning to take a quick glance at your ex, you had to press your lips together to choke back the cackle that threatened to escape. His expression was priceless, Satoru’s innocent little comment rolling of his tongue so effortlessly, causing a slight twitch in your ex’s eye.

“Well, I’m her-“ then he cleared his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. You weren’t surprised his title died in his throat, having never really accepted the fact that the relationship with over.

“He’s my ex,” you said, finding some courage to casually place your hand on Satoru’s chest, hoping and begging you weren’t making him uncomfortable by crossing a line.

“Aaah, your ex,” this Satoru trialed off with an awkward raise of the eyebrows before he turned to look at you again. That’s when you finally got to take a proper look at his breathtaking eyes, the whole ocean trapped in his irises. But you couldn’t let yourself fall completely mesmerised — you shook off the affect his piercing eyes seemed to have. “Sorry I’m running a little late. I stopped by the bookstore down the street to see if they had that book you recommended on our first date.” Then he served you what seemed like a genuine smile.

Stop, not the time to admire the handsome stranger!

You bashfully tilted your head forward while the sweetest chuckle traveled past your lips, also having to sell the performance. “How sweet of you to remember.”

“Of course!” He smoothly removed his arm from your shoulder to slide it along your back, moving it in comforting circles — but he never let it travel too far.

Your ex had his glare glued to Satoru’s gesture, unable to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Never got around to that one,” your ex said with an awkward, forced laugh in an attempt to shift the attention back to him. He probably thought he was being charming (he always thought he was), but his little comment only gave you another reminder to why you had broken up with him — he never cared about your interests, as he couldn’t be bothered to pick up your favourite book, no matter how many times you had asked him if he could at least give it a try.

“Huh, how unfortunate.” Again, your ex couldn’t conceal the little reaction Satoru caused in his face by his incredibly taunting tone.

He cleared his throat again, and you could see how he was grasping at straws trying to redeem himself. “So, what do you have planned?” It wasn’t too obvious, but you could tell — you could tell he asked as a challenge, certain your “date” wouldn’t be able to suffice an answer that would leave him satisfied.

You opened your mouth to answer, but only managed to take a breath before Satoru had already started his lengthy explanation. “Well, first I’m taking her out for lunch, obviously,” he mused, taking a quick glance around your surroundings. “And I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I got us entrance tickets for the botanical garden uptown. She told me she’s been wanting to go for months.” Then he turned to look at you.

He said it with such a genuine smile painting the corner of his lips, both of you letting the eye contact linger for a second. For once you were thankful for your ex, because if it wasn’t for him drawing Satoru’s alluring eyes away, you were scared you might just have found yourself swooning a little.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” your ex chuckled in response with a nonchalant eye roll, “she might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Hm,” Satoru huffed, sucking in his cheeks and eyeing him up and down

Pathetic was really the only word that Satoru would use to best describe the individual in front of him. He just seemed so puny, reeking of insecurity, only amplified by how he had so easily went along with the lie of a botanical garden — something Satoru had just pulled from the top of his head.

A huge, nervous lump traveled down his throat as Satoru held his gaze hostage, his dominant behaviour easily smothering any sprinkle of confidence your ex might have possessed at one point — all by just being there. And it was just so satisfying that it was finally your turn to watch your no-good ex being the one who was tormented for once.

“Well-“ his voice cracked the slightest, Satoru pursing his lips in amusement at the little slip, “I have to get going now. I’ll see you around,” stumbling over his words as his face shyly grew redder. Then he just turned on his heel and left, leaving no time for you to even say goodbye.

Satoru instantly felt your body relax at his side with a deep exhale, the hand that had shyly rested on his chest with modesty falling the second the door was shut — and once you took a step in front of him, he became hyper aware of how close to him you had been the entire time. With the sudden absence of your body next to his, he realised how perfectly you had just seemed to fit next to him. Nearly as if you had been made simply to be by his side.

And stood in front of him, he finally got the chance to take a look at you. A proper look at you, and damn, you were beautiful. Your eyes were kind, which amazed him considering the unpleasant encounter that had just taken place.

The chuckle you’d faked along with his act was still resting on your lips, but now it definitely seemed more real — warm.

“Thank you so much!” You gushed, “I am so sorry I just dragged you into that! I was panicking.”

Satoru watched intently as you spoke, unable to peer his eyes off you. His attention held on to every syllable, entirely captivated by your person, eyes roaming your face to take in every little detail there was to observe.

“Shit,” you suddenly interrupted yourself, taking a glance at your watch.

“I never caught-“

“I really wish I could stay and treat you for lunch, as thanks,” you cut him off, seemingly not even acknowledging how he had tried to speak, rummaging through your bag frantically before pulling out your wallet, “but because of him I’m running late. So, here, take this,” you chuckled lightly while stuffing his hands full of cash. “I really appreciate what you did!” Satoru was barely able to decode what you were saying as it all came tumbling out in one breath.

Continuing to spew a string of thank you’s, you quickly backed out of the cafe, his eyes following you as you jogged lightly down the street and out of sight.

Satoru was left utterly baffled, simply ogling the vacated spot you had occupied seconds ago.

Of all the times Satoru would end up tongue tied, this was the worst possible moment — he was cursing himself relentlessly for not being quick enough to demand a name, and now you were just gone, some random person he’d been lucky enough to cross paths with for a moment.

He knew he should just get on with his day — use the money you had gifted him and buy himself that sweet treat he wanted and forget about you. But he couldn’t — he wouldn't.

Had you just decided to walk into a random cafe you had just so happened to walk past that particular day?

Satoru certainly thought so. Because when he couldn’t rid you from his mind, he had gone back to that very same cafe, childlike optimism filling his body while he lingered the area, waiting for your figure to show.

It never did.

His patience quickly ran out, growing more restless every day that passed where he didn’t see you stroll down the street to return to the cafe to grab the lunch you never got to have.

He couldn’t let it rest in the hands of the universe any longer. After days of casually stalking the area, he decided to strut through the entrance of the building to simply ask.

“And how can I help you today, sir?” The sweet girl behind the counter mused, the perfect customer service smile greeting him as he leaned his entire weight in the edge of the counter.

“Hi there, remember me?”

He saw her shoulders rise slightly as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” yet another polite smile.

“I was in here about three weeks ago. Was with this really pretty girl-“

“Sir,” she gently interrupted him, still the same smile on her face, “we see hundred of faces every day. We have no way of remembering them all.”

His head fell back dramatically, huffing in disappointment as his fingers flexed against the marble top. “Thanks, anyway,” he mumbled quietly, shuffling over to a secluded table in the corner, sulking in his lonesome while his eyes were locked on the door, still filled with a light glimmer of hope that you would show.

It became routine — sitting in the same corner in the back, ordering the same thing while he waited for three hours everyday before he eventually had to leave, with a heavy heart, to attend to his duties.

And if the nice barista didn’t recognise him before, she definitely did now, walking over to his table and serving him his plate with a sympathetic smile. “No show today either?” The most theatrical sigh would leave his lips every time she asked the question, sad puppy dog eyes on display as he shook his head. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s getting a little sad, don’t you think?” Her coworker would comment once she rejoined her behind the counter, both of them keeping an eye on him with pinched eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a little romantic.”

Then they would share a look, some judgement passing between their eyes before they burst into innocent laughter, wondering how long they would get to witness his yearning before he eventually gave up his dreams of finding you again.

For days, Satoru’s head would snap towards the door every time the tiny bell rang, witnessing all sorts of people come to enjoy a little treat but not a single one of them fit your description.

Maybe this was just too hopeless? Tokyo was the most populated city in the world — bumping into the same person twice was like finding a needle in a high stack. Scratch that, it was like finding a rice grain in the great Sahara desert. But he kept praying, hoping the universe would bless him with his desire.

It was a perfectly okay day.

The temperature was nice — higher than expected for a mid-fall day — but the weather wasn’t much to brag about. For the past week it had been raining. Not pouring, but a light, constant drizzle that tapped quietly against the cafe window as Satoru stared mindlessly out at the scenery of concrete buildings and trees changing colour.

There was only a single string of hope that kept him sitting in that chair day after day, but it was destined to break soon. His head didn’t even turn towards the door anymore when that little bell rang with the familiar chime. He simply rested his chin in the palm of his hand, giving all the responsibility back to the universe.

The familiar barista came to his table, picking up the plate littered with only crumps and not one, but two, empty coffee mugs (that had been more sugar than coffee).

“Same time tomorrow?” She asked sweetly, wiping the table clean while balancing the dishes in her other hand.

He instantly wiped away his disappointment, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster as he turned to face her. “I don’t think so.” She stared wide eyed at him, mouth parted into a shy ‘o’, a little disappointed to see him finally give up, having started to root for him a long time ago. “You’ve had exceptional service,” he beamed from ear to ear as he got up from his chair, her eyes never leaving him as he stood to tower over her.

He gave her one last tight lipped smile as he passed her. “Goodbye,” she stuttered quietly, keeping her pitying gaze on him as he headed for the exit.

The bell rang one last time, and Satoru was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the obnoxiously high-pitching ding again — his relief short lasted as he crashed into a figure smaller than himself the second he was about to exit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching- well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armour!”

What were the chances?

After all those days — waiting, staring, stuffing his face with sweets — and to think he was just about to give up. Maybe the universe had finally decided to take pity on him, wanting to reward his patience.

You looked as breathtaking as the day you had desperately latched onto his arm — maybe even better. You seemed lighter almost, as if someone had lifted off pounds from your shoulders. Same kind eyes, but a sense of peace glossing over them instead of frustration.

“It’s you,” it fell from his lips involuntary.

“In the flesh,” you chuckled. The sweet, vibrating sound faded into a clear of the throat when Satoru only continued to ogle you without a word. “Oh, sorry, you were leaving-“ you stuttered, stepping aside to let him pass. You were left confused when he didn’t walk past you, but rather kept his glare on you.

“I never got your name.”

“Sorry?” You asked, his voice too quiet to pick up on.

The same smug grin you’d seen on his face so many weeks ago greeted you, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “I never got your name,” more assertive now that he had increased his volume.

“Oh,” you said shyly, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Eyeing his attractive smile, you let your name roll off your tongue before mirroring his expression of happiness.

If it was even possible, his smile stretched even further across his face, the dimples you’d noticed last time appearing on each side of his face. “Nice to finally meet you. Properly this time.”

His natural charm just steamed off him in abundance, something you had only appreciated in glimpses in your stressed haze. “You too,” you smiled.

“I haven’t seen you here since that day.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t been here since then,” you chucked nervously, glancing towards the register when you felt some interrogating eyes on you — both of the girls behind the counter wringing their heads away from you and Satoru. “My ex has had a tendency to linger in areas we ‘bump’ into each other,” you raise your fingers to gesture the quotation marks, “but I actually think meeting you might have scared him off for good. Haven’t seen him since, so thank you again.”

“Truly my pleasure,” he straightened his posture, his height growing even more impressive. He spoke your name, and despite not really knowing you, he said it with a tenderness your ex always lacked. “I was wondering,” he took a step closer, his eyes flittering between yours, “I owe you a trip to a botanical garden, don’t you think?”

Your breath instantly hitched in your throat, heat spreading modestly across your face.

Of course the handsome stranger who had come to your rescue in a moment of genuine despair had crossed your mind from time to time since then — you had just come to terms with the fact you would never be as lucky to cross paths with the polite stranger again. And the part of you that had been plagued with embarrassment was okay with that.

But the excitement in his eyes as he waited for you to answer slowly erased the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

tags (taglist form) @sad-darksoul ﾉ @05-simply-06-simping ﾉ @geniejunn ﾉ @alixris ﾉ @shadava

@gdamnackerman ﾉ @sunfl0werlevi ﾉ @gojonegs ﾉ @m0nsterzl0ve

@cupidxml ﾉ @lashaemorow ﾉ @cirquedelooney ﾉ @itsinherited

@elenor222 ﾉ @mima0127 ﾉ @lem-hhn ﾉ @mechanicalmari

a/n it's finally here and i think i'm happy with it... not entirely sure. think i've seen myself blind on this fic. however, thank you so much for the reception on the little drabble that took me literally ten minutes to write, hope this lives up to your expectations <3 likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[whiskeyskin]

Slow Down

Premise: Astarion discovers that disgustingly quick efficiency at sex, isn't always how everyone wants to enjoy it.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •

Astarion POV, gn!Tav, doggy, riding, slowing down, enjoyment, bloodplay/bloodlust, feral need, no mention of specific gentials.

2.7k words

Another blinder by @casualya 😙👌 you bless us daily with scrumptious pictures!

•°•°•

Astarion pumelled inside Tav, relentless and frenetic. The energetic pace and precise angle perfected over 200 years. A hand pressed down on the small of their back, the other pulling back on their hip.

This was his favourite position. Turned away; it was easier when they were turned away.

No eye contact. Less need for his practiced veneer. He could just 'get on with it' and be done quickly.

He could also pretend to 'clean himself off' while they were recovering from the earth shattering orgasm he'd just gave them. Keep up the charade till the end.

Their moans were rough, throaty and tense.

"You feel so good, darling." He parroted his old lines, "I want to come darling but I want you to come with me. Are you close for me?"

"Mm, not really." Tav admitted, an awkward tenseness in their voice. Astarion's thrust stuttered slightly, but continued.

He was ever a professional.

He blinked several times, furrowing his brow, "Do we need to change positions, love? I need to feel you come on my cock." He moaned through a bitten lip, slowing his pace.

Tav gave a pleasurable gasp, "Yes, please. It feels good, it's just-I find it difficult to come like this."

Astarion rolled his eyes behind their back, "Then we have to remedy that. Tonight is for out collective ecstasy, remember?" He crooned, gently extracting himself from inside them.

Irritated, Astarion pasted on his flawless veneer and recused himself from the situation, while his body piloted automatically.

Dissociating for him was like meditation, there were no thoughts. Nothingness. A great expanse of blackness and there he cocooned himself. Safe and removed inside.

His body had learned to respond to the stimuli around him, without needing him to be present.

Of course, some part of him was still present but not any part that mattered. No part that he hadn't painfully trained himself to repress and ignore.

There he waited for it to be over, in his safe pocket of void. Soundless. Wordless. Guiltless.

Of course this time would be different to his usual seductions. He would have to keep up a constant charade.

At the Palace, after the act, unlucky target would be taken away; to what they expected to be a bath, that would never come. However, if Cazador was feeling particularly cruel, he'd wrench them out, kicking and screaming before it was finished.

A foul part of him was grateful for it. That he didn't have to finish. That he didn't have to listen to their admissions of love, or satisfaction. Just their horrified screams, as a terrifying Vampire Lord threw them naked from the bed and dragged them behind him towards his study.

He would cower silently and stone-faced, as their blood-curdling howls would fade down the hallway, until the heavy doors shut. Even then his Vampiric hearing would pick up the sounds of panic and violence.

They'd beg him, plead with him, scream at him to help them, save them, intervene.. do something. But he never did. He never would. Never could. Not again.

Suddenly, an unexpected lurching motion tipped him over with a thud. Coming back to true consciousness, he blinked heavily as he realised he was splayed back on the forest floor.

Tav was holding his forearms over his head, "Told you I could." They smirked, slightly breathless.

"So you did. I'm impressed." Astarion replied, not missing a beat.

"I asked you to slow down, you didn't listen. So now, we're going to do this my way. So, you're going to lay back like a good pup and enjoy yourself. Got it?" There was assertiveness but amusement in their tone as they released his arms to reach between their bodies.

"I don't really think I have a choice." He tried to keep his voice steady but there was a wobble; he could hear it.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Astarion," he felt the tightness of their walls envelope him again, "Ahh.. it's our collective ecstasy, right?" They licked their bottom lip and placed their hands on his chest.

Astarion didn't answer. This was one of his least favourite positions.

He always felt exposed underneath someone face-to-face. Being giver, or receiver, it felt like he was close to scrutiny like this.

Still. In order to gain their trust further, and assure protection from Cazador - either by human shield, or sword - this was what he had to endure.

Tav began to rock on him, an easy, drawn out pace. Not at all like his urgent trists. He preferred a fast approach. To make them come as soon as possible. He had it down to a fine art but there were always outliers to any experiment.

Astarion grabbed their hips and tried to buck up but he was quickly thwarted.

"Uh-uh, not happening. We're going to slow down, and build this up nicely. Sex isn't about making people come quickly, it's about the journey together."

Tav placed their hands over Astarion's and slid them higher, to hold their waist. They rode him at what felt like a snail's pace, their hips fluidly rolling. Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

They took him from tip, to bottomed out tortuously slowly. And while it did feel good, it wasn't going to end soon.

Astarion huffed out in frustration but disguised it with contentment and lust.

Dissociation was peering over his shoulder, inviting him to step away and let it take the reigns.

"Ah, darling. That feels wonderful. Riding me like that."

"Sweet one, this isn't riding. This is the introduction, the prologue, the handshake. I know you're used to it fast, but just bare with me. Just enjoy the sensation."

He squeezed their waist and sighed, "Alright, I'll bite. Well, again." He smirked with an eyebrow flex to himself.

"Mm, that did feel good. Bet it tasted better."

"It did," Astarion relented, "You are rather delicious."

"Better than the bear that got you drunk?"

"Yes, you taste far sweeter than a bear. Satisfied?" He teased, thrusting upwards to meet them. The corners of his vision began to settle and fuzz.

"Slowly." Tav breathed, using their hips to control his speed, "Tell me what I taste like."

His vision cleared and he blinked.

What a question.

One that pulled him back from the edge of nothingness, back to Tav's face above him.

What did they taste like?

It wasn't something he recognised. It wasn't a flavour, it was almost a feeling.

"You taste so sweet, darling. Like honeyed fruits." He placated, keening for good measure.

"The way you suck on my neck doesn't say that. What do I really taste like?"

His face twitched, "I don't know if I could put it into words." He lied, pinching his lips in frustration. At both the questions and the intrusion into his coping mechanism.

"Try."

He couldn't contain his eye roll this time but played off as teasing, "Um, you taste amazing. Like nothing I've ever tasted before."

Tav remained silent, still rocking themselves on his cock. Astarion felt compelled to continue.

"You taste like.. rich wine and sweet fruits.. like summer berries fresh from the bushel, like warm days by the riverside, like splashing in the cool water." He began, unsure where it would go.

Tav's pace increased slightly, harder pressure pushing him into the ground.

"Good man, that's better. What else do I taste like?" Their hands wandered his chest as they moved on him, languid strokes from root to tip.

Something akin to a shooting sensation buzzed from his pelvis. It was unfamiliar, but not unknown.

Enjoyment.

He allowed himself to indulge in their question, "You taste like sunshine and freedom, like the moment before lightning hits," jolts of electricity zappped to his tightening groin, "Your blood tastes like everything I miss from my mortal life, it's like the smell of warm rain quenching dry earth. The feeling of purest limitlessness."

The words left his mind and flew through his mouth before he had time to comprehend how foolish it sounded. But Gods, every word was true. Feeding freely on Thinking blood was a rush that had no competition. But feeding from Tav, was something else entirely.

Tav began bouncing, rippling their spine and hips to pound against him. Bringing a hand to play with themselves illiciting a soft whine.

They looked at him through a hot stare, pinning him to the floor, then looked down to their bodies. Astarion followed their gaze.

If he had breath to steal, it would have been willingly surrendered. Seeing their meeting, the sight of his pale cock, covered in slick, disappearing inside them. Their hand teasing their own release, the other pressed low against is abdomen.

Their soft flesh bounced against the momentum of their riding, he could feel the jiggle beneath his hands.

"When you feed on me it feels like dancing with adrenaline itself. My whole body feels alive but numb at the same time. I can feel you, can feel my blood pumping through your body. I can feel me within you, surrendering to you," Astarion's grip tightened, pressing bruises into their rolling hips.

"You could drain me dry, and leave me for dead and I'd still beg you for one more bite. To feel like that again. It's worth a little death." They smiled coyly down at him, tracing their fingertips against his lips, parting them to reveal his fangs.

Astarion about choked on his own saliva, through a wanton gasp.

A devilish glint sparked in their eye, as they tested the sharpness on the pad of their index finger. They gave a short gasp of pain as it punctured their skin.

Astarion's tongue instinctively flicked against the small rivulets of blood out of desperation. The taste of blood, combined with the pleasure of sex, unlocked some feral part of him that had been dormant for an age.

Groaning and baring his teeth, he slid a possessive hand up their sternum, and felt their heart hammering through their chest. He suckled on the tip of their finger as they rode him but it wasn't enough.

The thought of their hot, sweet, delicious blood pumping through their body. Blood that engorged their swollen sex. Blood that would sustain him, nourish him, make him feel happiness. A happiness he had barely been able to explain since their first feed.

Tav laid their other hand on top of his, "Can you feel how hard my heart's beating? How much I want this? How much I want you, Astarion?" They keened, as their eyes met in passionate gaze.

A noise that didn't quite come from the sane part of his mind erupted from his chest as he felt Tav squeeze his cock with their inner walls.

Astarion desperately gripped their hips and tried to wrap one arm around their body.

"More.. more." He moaned, roughly.

"Blood, or sex."

"Both." He spluttered, frantically clawing at them, sitting up to re-arrange the pose, "Both!"

"Yes, yes." They uttered, breathless.

Pressed body to body, buried deep inside, Astarion sank his fangs into the slope of their chest.

Hot, delicious blood spurted into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat, as he took long pulls and swallowed them down.

The sensation was overwhelming, their life force rushing around his undead body, their walls squeezed tightly around him. He could feel the ministrations of their hand stimulating their release between their slicked bodies.

Tav gasped and moaned against his ear, which they gently nipped and licked on.

Astarion's eyes rolled back into his head, as his jaw tightened, biting harder. He was paralyzed with an overabundance of pleasure, rendering him inert as Tav shot out a cry and continued bouncing down on his cock.

Their pace became erratic, breath hitching as they gasped against the cool night air. Rabid cries of ecstasy echoed through the night as Tav's orgasm hit them.

Small, tense noises roughly eeked from his throat, as a sudden tightening gripped what was left of his soul like a vice, before a violent torrent of orgasmic energy flooded through him. His head jerked back, blood dripping down his chin. Chest hollowing, his eyes found Tav's, connecting them in the moment at the centre of the storm.

The world stilled for the briefest of moments, filled with the warmth of their gaze.

A cry of rapture died in his crimson coated throat and he came inside them, painting their walls with his seed. Tav bottomed out as he filled them to the brim with his cum, rocking their hips against him, over and over, coaxing every last drop.

"Agh, stop please.. mercy." He whined, as his head hit their shoulder, wrung dry from overstimulation.

He still smelled their blood from where he'd not shown enough care, in his hedonistic state, to stem the flow. He thought to cover it with his hand, but Tav had beaten him to it, still holding him upright with the other.

They softly leaned forward to lay him back down on the bedroll, in which he thunked back, gracelessly.

Half-hard and still inside them, his head swimming with the afterglow of his unexpected orgasm, Astarion tried to descend back to Faerûn.

Tav's blood was pumping through his ears, the loud whooshing noise drowning out the insect nightlife that crowded this part of the woods.

A quick kiss touched the tip of his nose, then he felt Tav extracte themself off him and lay beside him. The cold night air now stark and unwelcome, when compared to their warmth.

"Now that was collective ecstasy." Tav said finally, with a wearied but playful lilt.

"Mhm." He replied, unable to apply his brain back into conversation. He heard them moving around to grab a cloth for their puncture marks and a little clean up.

Several moments passed him by, staring up into the darkened starlit sky. He felt he was still up there, in the Astral, after the viciousness of cumming that hard - and after so long.

A pair of soft lips traced over his shoulder, peppering the area with kisses, and for the first time in over two decades; he didn't feel the urge to flinch.

"Are you still with us, Astarion?"

He shook his head, "Unfortunately not."

"Oh, dear."

"I'm quite unavailable for conversation at this moment in time."

Tav giggled softly, "Was it the combination of feeding and ear fondling that tipped the scales for you there? I know you were rolling your eyes when I slowed the pace down. I'd heard ear stimulation was part of Elven foreplay, I thought it would add a little something for you." Tav discarded the bloodied cloth, to join the one stained with cum and rolled onto their side to face him.

"It did." He nodded, angling his face to them. He found his new marks on their skin, they were a lot more vicious than those he'd made on their neck, evidence of his animalistic need. "It's never quite felt like that." He admitted, feeling a little sheepish.

"I told you. It's the journey that gets you to the destination." Tav smiled down at him, leaning on one hand, the other resting on his chest.

"That you did." Astarion felt embarrassment creeping up the sides of his neck and flushing his cheeks, as he felt the true gravity of how low he'd left his defences.

"Astarion, are you blushing?" Tav tucked their chin in, shocked.

He turned the corners of his mouth down in disgust, "Of course not! Vampire's don't blush. We don't have any blood." He pointed out.

"Well, you do right now and that's definitely a rosy tinge in your cheeks." They teased, rubbing their nose against the aforementioned red cheeks.

Astarion flinched away, "Stop." He snapped, frowning.

Tav held up their palm, "Alright, I'm sorry. You're not blushing, it's just a trick of the light. Astarion, the Rakeish Vampire-Spawn, does not blush."

"Certainly not, perish the thought. You're delirious with the after effects. The lack of blood has gone to your head." He pouted vehemently, recoiling from the thought he'd actually enjoyed himself.

Enjoyed the sex he'd used them for, that it hadn't been anything more than what it needed to be; a tool in his arsenal of manipulations.

Blushing? He was blushing?! Gods below.

"And the missing blood has gone straight to yours." They teased.

Astarion glared at them but only half meant it. He was still too happy to be miserable. But he had no doubt that the ravages of self-loathing and despair wouldn't give him restbite for long. He may as well enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"I can promise you, that blood is headed only one place and intends to make you scream like that at least another twice before morning. Especially now I know exactly how you like it," He moaned, pushing them over effortlessly, "This journey isn't over yet, darling."

•°•°•

[pantheresssy]

— paige bueckers and reader ⋆*. * ·

—┊⋆ summary: what’s supposed to be a funny and small photo shoot with you dressed with paige’s number five uconn shirt, had turned out a little bit … different.

— ┊⋆ cw: 18+, smut, cameras, oral (r), soft!dom!p, not-so-sub!r, fingering, hair pulling, cursing, your not really patient with p, video, big haired r, blood. | first time writing for her!! i’m still doing some research. sorry for any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language.

— ┊⋆ inspired by: paige walking around with that camera and not knowing how to use it … —

PAIGE LOOKED AT YOU with a smile while you tried to fit on her clothes. With her height, they were a little bigger than you and the shirt stopped in the middle of your thighs – no shorts for you. The ball was under your arm and your leg bent, looking at the camera with one of your eyes closed and your teeth out.

With her camera pointing at you, she moved side to side on the room, getting you from all the angles, all the lights. She knew that those pictures would come out perfectly and was already planning to post all of them, no exceptions. Paige guided you from times to times to switch your positions, in each corner and mobile that she wanted you to be. Pointing to her named written on the back of her shirt, sitting on the ball and with a whistle in your mouth. It was like the studio photoshoot that she did often … but with a hot looking photographer.

“Turn around and look at me over your shoulder.” She said, sitting in a chair to be at the same height as you were. You did as you were told, smiling and giving her your best intense look. Paige pressed the photo take button, the flash shining for the twentieth time in the last few hours. “Pull my shirt up, just a little bit.”

You brought the tissue up, letting it where your thigh meet your hip. Bringing your knee up again, leaning on your tip toes. She smiled for you and another one taken. “What’s next?”

Paige looked at you up and down, her head falling to the side. “On the mirror. I’ll be behind you.”

You both walked there and you bent down a little bit on the sink, not looking at the camera but your eyes. You copied one of your favorite photos of her, doing the same position and face as hers. She recognized what you were doing and laughed – this photo has been on your cellphone wallpaper for ages. A small piece of blonde hair and a part of the camera lens appeared in the picture, but it was more than perfect for her.

“More?” You asked, going to her side to see what she has already got and was surprised. She hummed at your question, turning the camera to the side so you could see the photos. Paige really had a great talent on making each one of them look so good.

The blonde looked at the curtains who were flying with the wind and back at you. Her eyes shone and you raised your eyebrows, waiting for what she would say: but she didn’t. All she did was take your arm and take you there. “Turn around.” She said.

You took your hair off to show her name again, doing what poses you thought it would be better. The flash shone, one, two, three, six times, before a ideia pop up on your mind … Still there, you discreetly pulled up the shirt bar, taking it out. Without a bra, your naked back and underwear was exposed for the camera. Paige’s breath caught on her throat when you turned to the side, the contour of your tits showing. She was quick on taking another pic, your smile growing.

Your nipples were hardening because of the cold air. With the camera on hand, your girlfriend was doing everything to take the perfect frame before straightening her back and look through them. “I want to take a picture with you facing me.”

You walked to the balcony and placed your hands there before doing, leaning your back against the iron bars and looking provocatively at the lens. Paige looked away from you for one second, down to the camera before placing it in front of her eyes. She murmured something about you being “fucking hot”, and focused on your tits. You made every position she (and you) thought it would be good, on the mirror again, on the kitchen pretending to cook something while posing. Not a room of your house was out.

That little playing photo section was having a lots of turnings, and in the middle, it had become a naked section. Lying on the ground, Paige copied you and adjusted her position to take your body. “I think it’ll be better without your underwear.”

“If I end up all over the internet i’ll murder you without remorse, Bueckers.”

She laughed, watching while you lay down on your back and rise up your hips, placing your thumbs on the withe fabric and pulling it out. You got back on your position, looking at her while letting your ass showing and nipple sneaking between your arms. She took the pic, licking her lips with the view and you felt proud burning on your body. You had Paige Bueckers, d1, on your hands.

She was making you her muse. You were sure she would hang one of those pictures somewhere in the bedroom. It remains to be seen if it was your naked ones or with her shirt. “Let’s make a video.” She said.

Getting up, you looked at her with your eyes nearly closed. “What type?”

Her eyes shone. “You decide. Those who I do for magazines, or our own.”

She was sitting now, the camera on her lap. You bit the inside of your lower lip, feeling taste of blood. Paige was waiting patiently while you decided, her finger playing with one of the buttons. You had made more than you did in your whole life in that few hours, she was the first one that you dared to be more bold with — even if you were having fun, it could be more risky … right? …

“Fuck me and film it.”

She raised her eyebrows and took your hand, pulling you closer. You took the camera off the way and sat where it was, wrapping your arms around her neck, blowing a little kiss on her lips. Paige put her hand in your hair, pulling and bringing you closer to her. Her tongue found yours, bending around yours in a domination dispute that you didn’t give up on easily.

You pulled her shirt up and she raised her arms, helping you take it off. She brought the camera closer to your face and you swallowed, nervously, trying to give your best smile. Paige took you to bed and lie down, you on top. She pushed you down by the hip, your pussy pressing against her stomach, and you started to move. A moan scape you, low.

With a not so confident confidence, you keept the moves and closed your eyes, your head falling to the front. Your hair fell from your shoulders and around your face, making a curtain with you, the camera and her. Your mouth flew open, the little sounds you made being captured, just like the noise of your pussy on her skin.

Paige lowered the camera, recording superficially without really showing anything, only your moves and the brightness of your juices that was left behind on her skin. Her own mouth was open, flatter with you, but hers didn’t make any sound but her quick breath. Your fingers caressed her belly, trying to have some comfort to get used to that moment, deciding to disconnect from everything and take advantage of the shocks that were being sent through your body.

“Paige.” You whispered. She raised her head, taking the camera with her and focusing on your face. You turned to the side, trying to hide, but she wasn’t having none of that. She made you turn again, holding your cheeks between her fingers so you would deep stare into the video.

You ride her until she thought that was enough, making you stand. Paige reversed the positions so that you were pressed on the mattress, your leg closing around her waist. She placed the camera on the mattress, you two now in the video. You were going to do your own porn … and that brought you butterflies to your stomach.

She lifted one of your legs, lying on top of you. Her mouth quickly found her favorite place in you: your mouth. The kiss was a mess of tongues and teeth, you two very hungry for the moment. When she pulled away, a thread of saliva kept you connected, only breaking when your head fell back after she put her finger on your nipple. Everything seemed to be too much, the feelings were too much. You were more sensitive than usual.

Paige’s mouth sucked where she was running her finger, her eyes focused on your face, watching your eyebrows frown with pleasure. Your hips went up, trying to go back for your rubbing, but she dismissed it, holding you with her hands on each side of your body. She was going to one nipple to the other, ravishing them with all of her attention, taking longer than you wanted. When she finally, finally, decided to keep going down, the cold air hit your hardened peaks, bringing a pleasurable squeeze when finding the saliva she left behind.

Her lips kissed up on your navel, passing by it and biting the end of your belly. She was close of your pussy and held your leg open, making your lips part and your clit be exposed for her eyes. Paige’s anxiety to prove you shone on her face and she took her mouth to the inside of your thigh, your scent closer to her nose. “You’re gonna kiss me the whole night?”

With your angry words, she stopped. “If I want, I will.”

Your hand went for where she didn’t seemed to want to touch so soon, the tip of your index tickling your folds. She hummed in protest, hitting you to make you stop. “Fucking do something.” You growled between your teeth.

Paige didn’t move for a while, leaving you there, in expectation. When you were starting to think that she wouldn’t do nothing, all of sudden, her tongue was licking all over. With your surprise, a loud moan scrapped your throat, your body getting up and your cunt sinking even more into her mouth. The blonde was still focus on you, seeing each pleasuring expression you’d make, biting your lip, your hair sticking on your forehead.

Seeing Paige Bueckers between your legs made you wetter every time.

Two fingers went up your ass, collecting your juices to use as a lubricant, then circling your entrance. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were big. Skinny, well trained fingers that, once inside, started to make wonders with you. Rubbing against your walls that squeezed her, telling her to stay in there and just move to give you pleasure. Paige was happy to follow, pulling the hood of your clit and caressing it, making you wet the sheets.

The first time you meet her, it was in one of her games. You didn't really know her, it was your first time watching a basketball match, but when you saw her so flawlessly placing the ball in the basket, you guessed she could do wonderful stuffs. A few days later your thoughts were proved right and, for what she had told you, hers too.

Since then, you both fucked for many times before any feelings were involved, ending up in a shared house and lots of more sex. She was perfect, and was even more when she curled her fingers inside you, like at that moment. Paige loved the sounds you made and always did everything to make them louder. You were happy to deliver what she wanted, reaching out for her and holding her head, her blonde locks soft against your skin.

You were red while she kept licking, sucking. You had never been wetter, being spreed all over her face, shining on her nose and chin, dripping back at your pussy. Your lungs were bending the effort trying to recover the air she was taking away. You took her wrist and squeezed her hand against your tit again: you both were stimulating it, giving you a bigger sensation.

“Don’t cum.” She said after she felt you start to move with her. That was a clear sign of what would come next. You complained, but you tried to contain yourself.

Your euphoria was mixing with the hot wind on the room that, even with the open windows, had taken you and her. Paige was sweating, you could see a line following down her back muscles. They were waving while she moved, eating you with a crazy hunger. You couldn’t know if you focus there or in other places, but your body decided for you when your eyelids closed involuntarily. The ability she had on the court was pale compared to what she did there.

Her tongue was shaking your clit, her lips closing and sucking just enough for you to gasp. At the same time, she speed up her hands moves, beating deep inside you. Your noise was loud and your smell was all over. Knowing her, you were sure Paige was more than happy to have you like that, doing everything and more to keep you on the edge.

You tried to do what she asked as longer as you could, but you hold on was impossible. Your walls tightened, her fingertips bending on your g-spot and making you see stars. Your hot cum flowed slowly down your pulsing walls, running down her fingers that were still moving.

Even unhappy that you hadn’t followed what she said, she helped you get down, caressing your clit and slowing gently inside you. After the post-orgastic fog came out of your mind, she got up and picked up the camera. Paige pointed it for your relaxed face and you smiled. “You’re looking beautiful.”

You stretched your arms over your head, prancing your breasts. Paige went down to them and back to you. “Is not fair that I’m the only actress, right?”

“No.” She jokes, smiling. You rolled your eyes and made her lie down, getting up on her body. You licked her neck and continued all over her glorious body, doing the same thing she did to you — the only difference being that she was much more patient than you were.

This time, the camera was filming everything from up close and from her angle; you being the one between her legs, her moans being the ones in the video.

[eupheme]

— common ground [into the fire, part iii]

part i | part ii | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death

a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)

"Fuck!”

You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.

This wasn't what you had in mind.

You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.

The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.

He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.

"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."

You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.

A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.

"What?" He asks, at your expression.

"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.

It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.

A shrug, "They shot first."

"You goaded them."

You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.

"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"

"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."

He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."

A second, before he steps away.

"These weren't those kind of people."

You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.

Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.

The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.

Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.

Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.

You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.

There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  

Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.

You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.

"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.

There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.

It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.

"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.

"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."

"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.

Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.

“Said you need water?”

"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."

"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."

The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”

It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.

“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”

People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.

You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.

That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.

“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”

“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”

The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.

“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.

“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”

It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.

The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.

A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.

You think he does rest - a rarity.

You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.

Taking the rare chance to do it freely.

In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.

But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.

His presence feels the same.

A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.

It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.

If you got close enough-

Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?

You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.

In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.

What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.

Liquid gold, in comparison.

“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.

Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.

The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.

“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”

The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.

“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.

“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”

He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.

Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.

Would he let you touch him?

He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.

“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”

That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.

They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.

Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -

“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.

You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.

Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.

Maybe you still could.

“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”

A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.

Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.

“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”

The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.

“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”

The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.

Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.

Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.

Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.

“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.

You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.

Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.

You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.

“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.

“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”

It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.

He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.

“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”

A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.

Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.

The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.

Letting himself watch.

“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.

“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”

Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.

Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.

It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.

Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.

As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.

See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.

“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”

Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.

It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.

You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.

“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.

Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.

“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”

Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.

Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.

Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.

“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”

It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.

“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”

Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.

Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.

The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.

Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.

Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.

It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.

He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.

Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.

A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.

You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.

His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.

A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.

Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.

A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.

Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.

You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.

Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.

Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.

“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.

“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”

You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.

The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.

It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.

You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.

A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.

It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.

That maybe you could clean it up.

That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.

It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.

A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 

His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.

The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.

Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.

It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.

And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.

save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)

[star-sim]

"nooo! she's taken!" ☆ enha maknaes

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen maknaes x celebrity! fem! reader ☆ summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆ genre: fluff, another poor attempt at humor, it's very silly ☆ warning(s)? none! lmk if you'd like to see this w the hyungs! hyung ver.

sunoo ☆

so youre a famous actress

you have your official instagram account

and then your personal one, that you only allow family and personal friends to follow

sunoo, your bf, also has an account on instagram

since most of you friends and family know him, it's not uncommon for him to take your phone and post on your personal account

one of those "hai guys i stole her phone 🤭"

all in good fun

so one night, you and sunoo and cuddling

it was one of those vibey nights

the lights were dim, candles lighting up the room with their orangey hue, light music playing in the background

laying on you and sunoo's shared bed, his face buried into the crook of his neck while you run your fingers through his hair

its honestly so soft and warm and comfy :]

the two of you aren't really talking to each other, just basking in each other's presence

and eventually you begin to doze off

at first sunoo was like "baaaaabee!! why did you stop touching my hair"

but then he realized you were asleep

so after givng your cheek a soft peck, and tucking you into the soft blankets

sunoo physically goes >:]

he takes your phone and decides that he's going to spam your personal account

because tbh he does this a lot and it's funny for everyone involved

sunoo takes very silly pictures of you and him

pictures of you sleeping, ones at very silly angles (ik he takes the most FOUL 0.5s)

on your story he posts them with also very ridiculous captions

theres one of you sleeping with the caption "mimimumuimuiu"

another fisheye lens one of sunoo with the caption "hai i stole [name]'s phone 😈"

but he also posts some sweet ones

like one where you're dozing off in his arms w the caption "she's so cute"

sunoo gets mushy at some point

like his captions go from funny to "im so happy that i get to call myself [name]'s boyfriend, i feel so lucky to be with such a beautiful and talented woman"

that's great!

really!

that's wonderful!

but.

there's just one problem

one

teeeeeeensy

weeeeeeeeeensy

problem

he was using the wrong account.

he was posting all this on your official, business, 7.8 million follower, instagram account.

and not your personal account.

!!!!!

😱😱😱

he doesn't notice until 20 minutes later his phone blows up with articles and text messages

and when he notices

sunoos like OH SHIT

he shakes you awake

and poor boy is so apologetic :(

"baby i'm so sorry i didn't mean to out our relationship like that i should have been more careful-"

but when he explains it to you

you kinda just laugh

and go back to sleep

HELP

sunoo deletes the stories but people already screenshotted them

yeah... so this blows up

i feel like they would become memes

like the ones of you sleeping become reaction memes or even worse part of those tiktok meme slides LMAOAOAO

a lot of people think it's adorable

and you do too

but sunoo is so embarrassed

poor boy

he was writing out entire think pieces on your instagram story oml

OH MY GOD I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING TERRIBLE

there's definitely articles that come out about this

and yk how on articles theres a title page with images

one of the images is of you ofc

all these news outlets use your super professional HD MODEL pictures of you

like ones where youre a goddamn SMOKE SHOW, the "who is she?" ones, the ZOOWEE MAMA ones...

and then they use one of the foul images that sunoo takes of himself that are like 3 pixels

like the 0.5 lens ones 😭

nevertheless, there is a happy ending

everyone thinks its so sweet

including you

and when people bring it up on interviews you're able to just laugh about it

<3

jungwon ☆

we joke abt jay and sunghoon and sunoo having mad side eyes

but i think we forget the FATHER of INSANE SIDE EYES

YANG JUNGWON HIMSELF

you're a singer/artist

and you just released a new EP!

on tiktok, you're making promotional videos to promote your new songs

looking like a cutie, popping off, as you always do!

anyways in many of them

you're in front of a glass door

or a mirror

so as youre being an absolute cutie promoting your song, in the background in the reflection you can see jungwon making faces

NOT BECAUSE HE'S MAKING FACES AT YOU

but bc sometimes there's ppl walking by and being judgy

jungwon is giving them mad stink eyes and it's caught in the reflection of your videos

i don't think a lot of ppl notice it until someone points it out

and when they do

theyre like

WHO TF IS THAT 😭

ppl are making tiktoks simply zooming into his face LMAOAOAO

and then a few days later

the paparazzi released pictures of you walking with jungwon, holding hands and on a date

and when ppl see it

theyre like

hmm...

that guy looks a lot like the guy in the reflection...

and then the dots connect

like sunoo, i think jungwon is embarrassed

everytime someone brings it up jungwon hides his face in your neck

and he wears that cute little bashful grin

but honestly it's cute

so just hug him and kiss his lil cheeks and he'll be okay

it kinda becomes viral on tiktok

so you make a few video stitches about it

you stitched the og video that pointed out jungwon's face in the background

your stitch was just a video of jungwon being embarrassed and freaking out

like bro was on the floor, hands in his hair

jungwon was in the trenches sorry 😭

there's another stitch where jungwon explains himself

he's dressed in a suit and tie and speaking so formally like he was making an apology video or something

"i would like to address a recent clip of me making inappropriate facial expressions-"

"babe you don't need to be so formal, it's a tiktok"

"you shant say that, i must do this for this is my will"

BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE ☠️☠️☠️

#freejungwon

riki ☆

youre an actress that's very popular

except some ppl hate you bc they think hating popular people makes them interesting *eye roll*

safe to say.... riki is your NUMBER ONE DEFENDER

like he is the ring leader to all of those [name] stan twt group chats

he's the one leading those discord raids on your hate groups OH MY GOD 😭

he has multiple accounts and he fights every person that dares tarnish your name

twitter is his battlefield and the keyboard is his sword

anyways one day riki is so deep into an internet fight that he GETS DOXXED 😭😭

like it wasn't even graceful

i think he'd make fun of one of your haters

and the hater goes "wanna see something funny? :)"

and BOOM

ADDRESS

IP ADDRESS

FULL NAME

PERSONAL EMAIL

PHONE NUMBER

dont actually dox people guys its not funny

when riki gets doxxed they get his full name right

and the hater, his assailent, and their little posse start searching his name on social media to further dox him

and BOOM #2

THEY FIND HIS INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT

now riki isn't stupid

so his ig acc is private

however.....

the profile picture of his acc is a selfie of you and him kissing

they also did research on him and found out that you and him went to the same high school...

in fact they found miscellaneous pictures posted online of you and him a few years back... holding hands n shit....

OH

SHIT

this goes viral over night

like

its so bad that even news headlines are covering it

"TWITTER USER @[NAME]LUVER1209, HOT ACTRESS [NAME]'S MOST NOTORIOUS INTERNET DEFENDER, IS REVEALED TO BE HER BOYFRIEND 😱😱😱"

i feel like the public's reaction to this would be really light-hearted

like i think mst ppl would be cheering riki on

"he's so real"

"oh my god i think i was mutuals with @[name]luver1209"

"this is what true love looks like"

you have super loyal fans and riki's mutuals so they support you too

except i do think theyd be in shambles, but in good fun

"i just found out [name] has a bf im going to flush myself down a toilet"

"i can't believe she chose @[name]luver1209 when his fancams are so shit... THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!'

"i've been here waiting in line for three years and this random @[name]luver1209 swoops in and takes my woman..."

riki's stan account gains a lot of followers

and so with your permission

he posts a selfie of you and him

probably with a cheeky caption like "KISS MY ASS!!!!"

i feel like people go back and watch old talk show interviews and stuff

and if you zoom in

you'll see riki in the front rows cheering the loudest 😭

bro is everywhere

in the future there's def a moment where like

you're at a live talk show

and the host asks you about the fiasco

and you can literally just point to him in the audience like

"yeah my boyfriend's right there-- hi baby!"

and riki from the audience, behind his phone that he's using to record you like its a fancam, is like "hi baby!" back

i dont think the media even calls him riki, he's stuck as @[name]luver1209 forever

not that he minds

😭😭😭

hyung ver.

[sgt-tombstone]

When Johnny asked Simon to come home with him on leave, he had never expected… this.

Johnny’s flat in Glasgow was a tiny thing, barely large enough to fit one, much less two massive soldiers. They made it work well enough, as long as neither of them minded being constantly wrapped up in each other, always within reach, and neither of them did. Their last mission had gone to hell in a heartbeat, and the 141 were lucky to be alive; Price had sent them all home on mandated medical leave, and Simon and Johnny were taking full advantage of the time off base to reacquaint themselves with each other being present and tangible and alive.

That didn’t change the fact, though, that his flat was only slightly larger than a postage stamp, which was fine for a few days, but he had sensed Simon getting antsy, feeling caged in, and had suggested visiting his parents for a couple of days, if only to get out of the house. It wouldn’t be any less oppressive—the MacTavish family was massive and overbearing on the best of days—but it would offer some reprieve from the near-constant contact and the stifling city.

Which was how Johnny found himself staring down at his lieutenant, his partner, curled up on his back on his parents’ couch, fast asleep, a green dinosaur stuffed animal clutched against his chest.

It didn’t look particularly comfortable; Simon was too tall, his legs too long, to be able to stretch out completely, so his knees were hiked up, his socked feet flat against the cushioned armrest. His neck was at an odd angle, resulting in his chin nearly touching his own shoulder, his unmasked cheek squished slightly where it was pressed against the leather. And the stuffed animal…

Johnny had bought it as a gift for one of his nephews, a toddling bairn who had struggled with nightmares, and the shopkeep who sold it to him had assured him that the little beads in the dinosaur’s tummy would provide enough weight to be a comfort without being dangerous. Evidently, his nephew had taken one look at Simon Riley and decided that the scarred soldier needed it more than he did.

Both of Simon’s arms were wrapped around the soft toy, squishing it against his chest, rising and falling with every slow, deep breath. He looked at peace in a way that Johnny hadn’t seen him look in a long time. They had spent the day surrounded by fussing family members and babbling children, their attentions split between warm homemade meals and whatever trinkets had caught the toddlers’ interest. Johnny would’ve felt bad; he was long used to his family’s antics, had grown up surrounded by siblings and cousins and extended relatives. But Simon had taken to it like a duck to water, effortlessly shifting focus from one person to another, treating each with equal sincerity and devotion, the same way he did in the field. It had been a delight to watch, especially when his mam and sisters had taken advantage of Simon’s distraction to shoot Johnny knowing glances.

“Gonna stand there all night, sergeant?”

Johnny startled, not enough to move, but enough to send his heart rate skyrocketing. He recovered quickly though, too well trained to do anything else. Simon hadn’t moved, hadn’t even opened his eyes, and it would’ve unnerved him if he hadn’t spent the last two years cementing himself as a permanent fixture in Simon’s life and, therefore, becoming incredibly used to his partner’s uncanny sense of perception. Even, apparently, while asleep.

“Just wonderin’ if Gaz’d ever believe me if I told him, sir.”

“Take a picture,” Simon grumbled, his voice deep with sleep. “It’ll last longer.”

Johnny snorted a quiet laugh, already imagining the look on his fellow sergeant’s face. He didn’t pull his phone out, though, just like Simon knew he wouldn’t. These moments were for the two of them alone, raw and bare and soft.

“Let’s go to bed, love,” he whispered, reaching out to run his hand through Simon’s hair. It was tangled from the grasping of tiny, fisted fingers throughout the day (Johnny’s nephews had never seen blond hair before and, as such, had been absolutely enraptured by Simon’s head of golden hair), and he didn’t mention the way Simon pushed into his hand, seeking touch and warmth like a cat. He also didn’t mention the way Simon continued to hug the stuffed animal to his chest as he unfurled his long legs, stretching slightly, his knees popping, before drawing himself up to his usual towering height. His eyes were half-lidded with sleep, soft in a way he rarely allowed himself to be, the green dinosaur tucked safely in his arms as he followed Johnny upstairs.

In a week, they will be back on base, back to their tactical gear and their sidearms and their razor-sharp focus. They will be shipped out to some foreign soil, either sweltering heat or numbing cold, either dry deserts or soaking rainforests, and blood will be spilled, probably their own, definitely their enemy’s. They will once again be hardened soldiers, products of war, and there will be no room for such softness. Which was why Johnny reveled in the way Simon curled around him now, in a bed two sizes too small for two muscular men, a warm blanket blocking out the worst of the Scottish chill, a green weighted dinosaur stuffed animal clutched in two massive arms against an equally massive chest.

He tucked his nose against the nape of his partner’s neck, one arm thrown over Simon’s hip, and drifted off to the quiet sound of breathing, of comfort, of peace.