#should I put any content warnings on this

[archiveofvirtue]

sarah introduces lovely kook!reader to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes her interest more than he should

content / lovely kook!reader x jj maybank, slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing, 1.4k words

notes / this is the beginning of readers and jj’s journey throughout the series, so definitely let me know if u like it or if i should continue only writing about rafe and reader (but then there would def be less of a continuous storyline!)

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit.

"Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got.

You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious.

Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom.

As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho.

Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot.

And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber."

Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out.

But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?"

Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out."

"Oh, come on," Kiara groaned, though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ.

"Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound.

JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now.

Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it."

He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing.

JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?"

As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little.

Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport.

Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?"

You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?"

You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home.

While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question."

You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know."

Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here."

You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

please lemme know what u guys think !!

requests are open.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

[joosthead]

agora hills || j.k. f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

₊˚⊹⋆ happy (late) birthday <3. part of normal au (previous parts here). set joost's birthday 2024 <3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader (she/her pronouns used). notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 7.3k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw(s): smut (established relationship, light exhibitionism, semi-public sex, remote control vibrator, slight aggu x reader, slight mention of m!receiving vibrator/assplay because i’m crazy, unprotected piv, creampie, customary joost fic drinking and smoking), normal au sappiness LETS GOOO

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “agora hills” by doja cat, “pressure” by martin garrix ft. tove lo, “shu madame” by ski aggu, “heaven” by mitski (literal direct quote from this song LOL) 

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator ! au of an au where skiklein isn’t divorced 🩷 lowkey this is a bit normal au worldbuilding heavy! as always thank you to @howisjoostfanfictionforfree <333 my creative partner in crime !! not edited oops

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

You shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

At least, you shouldn’t have let Joost place his around your shoulders on the way here—it’s his birthday, shouldn’t he be the one being taken care of? Either way, you’re holding his hand as he navigates you to the booth your friends are already at, tugging at the collar as you brush past so many people, an endless supply of warmth cloaking you from all sides. 

This would be fine any other November day in the Netherlands, so cold you contemplate moving somewhere warmer every year if not for your very proudly Dutch boyfriend keeping you here. 

But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

You teeter on high heels; Christian Louboutin So Kates that Joost bought you a while ago and loves, your legs are weak, not at the thin stilettos, but at the dull pulsing between your legs of the remote control egg vibrator nestled securely between them. You two brought it home one day from the sex shop nearest your house, bright pink and surprisingly high tech, an app used to control it through Bluetooth. Even on the lowest setting, it’s strong and steady, and you’re really trying to keep it together as it pushes against your g-spot with every step forward.

Joost pulls you next to him by the hand and puts his arm around you. “You are doing so amazing, mijn schat,” he says, kissing your temple as you squeeze in between people together, and you nod. 

“I better be.” 

“Much better than I did.”  

The policy is always this: you will never try something he wouldn’t try himself first. It’s only fair, considering the multitudes of ideas he has about things you two should try in (and out) of the bedroom. 

His turn: you lubing up your fingers and fingering him open, him slipping the vibrator inside himself, you impishly giggling about the app controls and how pretty it all looked when you knew he’d be destroyed in a matter of moments.  

It was only a week ago—taking a walk in the park near your house at 3 AM together so no one would see you, your hand and your phone in your coat pocket going from low to high, low to high as he gritted his teeth and walked alongside you. You set it the highest vibration pattern it could go—a minute later, he was collapsed on the ground. “Is he alright?” a passerby asked you, eyes alarmed at your sweet boyfriend lying face down and practically convulsing. 

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just weird,” you said, and you two shared a nod and they went along with their day. By the time you trudged back home, getting Joost to the edge and turning it off completely so he wouldn’t get any satisfaction, he was practically begging to be inside you. 

It’s your turn now, but you didn’t exactly expect it to be on the first club outing of the night of his birthday. You’d given Joost his presents earlier today—some boudoir photoshoot pictures you had done months ago, Christian Louboutin boots he’s wearing tonight, a belt buckle of the copyright symbol you found thrifting, some gacha capsules and trinkets you got in secret on your trip to Japan together, a long handwritten letter (5 pages!) waxing poetic about your small and beautiful life with him that he cried at when he read it over the breakfast you brought him this morning. 

There are more presents to be given later today, all planned and gift wrapped, but this one—all indulgence, no planning, no stipulations about how far he can go and when it’ll end for you. Joost asked you if you could do it when you were getting dressed together before this. Pretty black lingerie he got you on a trip to Paris, a dress he surprised you with from some big fashion house, helping you slip on the shoes he so kindly bought you when he asked you on his knees—”Please, schat, can I use it on you tonight?” and you couldn't resist that look on his face, those big blue eyes. 

“Very proud of you, mijn schat,” Joost yells over the music as you near your table. Everyone’s too distracted already to acknowledge you or your strangeness—Tantu and Joost dap each other up, but Ruby is off somewhere else; Appie and Alanis and Stuntje are doing a drinking game they’re very focused on; Aggu (Aggu???) and Marina (Aggu and Marina???) are talking with each other very intently, his arm on the back of the booth behind her. “Do you think you can get us some drinks?” 

You look back up at him, eyes wide. “By myself?” 

“It’s my birthday, baby. I wanna sit down.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him slip into the booth and turn away, annoyed and feeling faint already. The vibrator feels bigger than it looks, pulses harder than it already is; the pattern is periodic like an alarm clock. Once you're halfway to the bar, you look back to Joost and he’s on his phone and torturing you manually—you want to yell, want to scream. In agony, or pleasure? 

There’s so many people at the bar—so many of them you recognize from weekends upon weekends and term breaks after the other partying with Joost and your friends. Some of them you know better than others; Mia and Femke who do Joost’s makeup from time to time; Luuk (Luuk???) from work; Thijs and Enzo and Myron and Brunzyn and Donnie and Donny and oh, this is going to be really bad, isn’t it?

You bob and duck your head—hopefully no one recognizes you as you try and reach an empty stretch of bar where you can hold onto as the vibrations get stronger and stronger. The DJ tonight is playing Buurman Uit Berlijn and you’re unsure if it’s the thrumming bass of the song or the thing stuck inside you that’s dizzying and all-consuming. As you reach out for the bar, you close your eyes and focus.

The mass of dancing and yelling bodies behind and next to you, the pink and purple strobe lights flashing all around, your boyfriend’s music loud and blaring through the speakers, these beautiful torture devices of heels, the sweat sheen on the back of your neck, the matching wetness between your thighs as the high intensity vibration subsides and turns more mellow. 

Joost has finally given you reprieve. 

In waiting for the bartender to get to you, you feel like you’re looking over your shoulder like a madman every second, scared of looking suspicious, but scared of making eye contact with any of the people you know. You stand pin straight, scared of moving it any further, scared of pressing it into your spot. From your right, you hear your name and wince, preparing for some acquaintance or worse—one of Joost’s close friends that you’ve said hi to once but don’t know very well past that.

Turning—it’s just Ruby, and you breathe a sigh of relief once she bounds up to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug as if you and her haven’t spent the last week together upon her return with Tantu. 

She pulls away from you and you give her a small smile, realizing that the pulses have subsided completely, and you can let your guard down for a moment. 

The smile you give her must not be very convincing—“You look like you're about to be sick, my darling,” Ruby says, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to test out your temperature. She’s going to be disappointed when she finds out the real reason you’re feeling hot. 

“I’m fine,” you say softly, shaking your head. The only person you’re trying to convince at this point is yourself. “Don’t worry, I—“You open your mouth to speak, but the toy just—Joost is so mean to you. So, so mean, because he’s turned it up more, seconds long stretches of it pulsing hard and fast and then nothing, over and over again. Does he have a clear view of this from the booth? Does he just know? All you can get out is a little sigh, hopefully one she wasn’t able to hear over the loud music and all the talking. You close your lips and try to shake it off. 

“Cat got your tongue?” she giggles, then yells to the bartender who you didn’t even know came over, “Two Bacardi colas, thank you!” 

“Thank you, I appre—” you close your eyes as the vibrations become incessant, punching against every part of you. You can imagine Joost’s face back at the table, grinning, pupils dilated and hungry for how embarrassingly wet you are between the legs. “Ruby. For reasons. For reasons I cannot say, I have to pause speaking. I’m going to hold onto you for balance. Please do not say anything about this to anyone,” you say as you drop your head, trying to hide your face from her as you let out a groan. 

Even without seeing her reaction, you’re sure Ruby knows what’s up—you shared a wall for almost four years until she moved to Berlin after graduating, and you’ve heard your fair share of each other’s activities. When you pop back up, gritting your teeth in a grimace that’s supposed to be a smile, Ruby’s giving you a look of surprise and then she rolls her eyes. 

“I can't believe you two, you're disgusting!” she laughs, throwing her head back and giving your arm a squeeze. “You’re both freaks, I guess you were made for each other. Anyways—“ 

Ruby goes into a long tangent about the new apartment she’s about to move into next to her work building in Berlin, how she hopes the album will finally just drop soon so Tantu can stop fussing over the finishing touches, how she really thinks you probably should get back to the table because you’re white-knuckling the sticky bar and it’s concerning her—she’s trying to give you an out by talking to you normally, but you're really unable to get with the program. 

The bartender comes back to you with the two drinks and Ruby hands them to you—”Do you want me to help?” No, you shake your head, because you’re trying to prove yourself to someone, you’re not sure if that’s you or Joost. “Good luck, babe.” 

You teeter back with two Bacardi colas in hand and a calmer vibration keeping you intact for your journey back; if you spilled these drinks all over yourself, you’d have some very choice words for Joost later, and his birthday would be spoiled. But as you near the table (not without Myron trying to wave you over, and you throwing an apologetic look and a raise of your glasses her way, Mia making eye contact with you but you pretending not to notice), you find your stride, and can actually seem to walk without hunching into yourself to hide. Maybe this won’t be bad after all. 

Tantu’s seemed to join in on the drinking game with the others, Aggu and Marina watching them as you place down the Bacos in front of Joost. “Thank you, mijn hart,” he says looking up at you and pursing his lips for a kiss which you give him. Bending over is a terribly bad idea, you find out, the angle of the vibrator adjusting to your new position, and it hits you head on—you open your eyes and glare at him, and he gives you a big smile, kissing you on the cheek. 

It sours your expression even more when you see how close these quarters are, how Tantu and Appie are practically squished together as Stuntje and Marina have a chugging contest, how even with Ruby still at the bar, there isn’t any room for you. 

“There’s nowhere to sit, you can sit on my lap.”

“I can see that,” you mumble, taking off your jacket and giving it to Joost before perching on his lap, his left thigh underneath your ass and the bottom of the table above your legs. 

“Having fun, baby?” Joost says into your neck, the grin on his mouth evident as you sit back on him. 

“Having the worst time, Joosti.”

“Aw, why is that? It’s my birthday, it’s the second best day of the year—what’s not to love?”

“The demonic object you’ve placed inside of me, that’s what’s not to love.” 

You haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to everyone or even say hi—the night’s not about you but they’re still your friends. After the drinking games are over, you’ll have to face them, and they’ll talk to you, and your guilt will be all over your face and you’ll never be able to show yourself at this club ever again. 

You pick a piece of glitter off his cheek, brush some off the thick black rim of his glasses—he’s wearing that jacket he got a while back, the one he wore at Jere’s gig all adorned with pink fabric and women dominating men and “BRAT” over its leopard print background. This jacket exemplifies him perfectly, and you knew that when you recommended it for him to buy. 

“Don’t worry, schat, I told them you were tired from work. They won’t bother you.” 

“It wouldn’t be a bother if you just turned it off.”

“That is no fun, isn't it? I think you should have thought about that in the park last week if you wanted me to be nice.” Joost’s hands run along your sides, snake to your front, splay out on your stomach as he hugs you closer, his chin on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t embarrass you, lieverd,” he says softly, and your nerves are soothed. He kisses your neck and automatically, you roll it to give him more space to kiss, to nip at your skin. “You can trust me.” 

Everyone’s so distracted—what do you even have to worry about? Your group lets out a collective shout, whoops and claps at Marina beating Stuntje decisively even though she looks positively disgusted at the taste of the beers she emptied. Tonight is good—no one is paying attention to you; Joost is absentmindedly mouthing at your pulse point, at your jaw, the stupid vibrator and the terrible app forgotten, apparently. 

You sling your arm around his neck and he brings you closer.“ You haven’t even touched your drink, Joost,” you say, cupping his cheek as he kisses yours, trailing his lips against it until he reaches your own and kisses you deeply, fingers squeezing your thigh as his hand inches up. 

“The drinks can wait.” 

“Can you? We’re in public, remember?” 

“They probably won’t even remember tonight, what’s it matter?” 

From behind you, Aggu’s deep voice in German, the small vocabulary you know from Ruby: “I feel left out, mausi,” said amused, said with Joost’s hand almost between your legs. 

A nickname you gained from your short time on the Friesenjung set, the few interactions you had with August, as he introduced himself. 

You’d never felt intimidated by anyone Joost’s introduced you to—you weren’t even intimidated by Joost when you first met at this very club. You weren’t intimidated by the Dutch celebrities he’d introduced you to; not the Slavs or the Swedes; not Otto, even when he’d treated you and Joost to a Michelin starred dinner and told stories about his decades in the industry. 

Your appearance was a surprise to no one except for Joost—you told him you had work and couldn’t be there for him on the first day of filming. When you showed up, hiding behind your friends you knew on set, you’d made the mistake of not hiding well enough; in the middle of a scene, he spotted you behind someone’s shoulder, entire face lighting up and so happy, he dropped what he was doing and sped to you, hugging you and picking you up off the ground.

“Joost!” you scolded, laughing as he kissed you on the cheeks. “Please, there’s so many people around.” 

“I thought you said you had work?!” Joost said, kissing you again as the people around you dispersed, the scene they were filming fully interrupted now. 

“I wanted to be here for you, it’s a big day.”

His scene partner and someone you’d (sort of) talked to over Facetime when Joost would call him to talk about the song sauntered over, and Joost pulled away from you, keeping his hand around your waist. “This is Aggu, lieverd, and Aggu, this is—“ he gave him your name, “my baby,” “love of my life,” “the busiest person on the planet,” “mein schatz, or whatever you guys say here,” attached to the end of it, and you nodded. 

“That’s me,” you say softly to the other blonde mulleted man now entering your life. You held out your hand to shake and then regretted your decision remembering that it was 2023–who shakes hands in 2023?

Nonetheless, Aggu shook yours. Big hand but a gentle handshake, eyes intense but soft at the same time. You could barely meet them and it seemed like both Joost and August knew. “Wie eine maus,” he said, and you could use enough context clues to figure out what he said about you. “I’m August.”

There was something different about August—Aggu. Even if he was just as rambunctious as your boyfriend, he was quieter than he looked. This aloof, masculine energy seemed to just exude off of him without him having to announce any of it. Half of his face was covered most of the time you saw him, but you already knew he had reason to be so confident. 

As with most interesting things in your life—meeting him on your own happened out on a curb outside of the actual party. Later that day, there was a scene filmed at a corner store, and it turned into a party that went into night, 50 people crammed into the tiny establishment. You took a smoke break while Joost went to the bathroom, and there Aggu was, right behind you, right next to you. 

“You know, you’re very cute,” he said, and you practically sputtered out your drink, practically dropped your cigarette on the ground. 

“I’m Joost’s girlfriend,” you informed though you were sure he knew, and he nodded. 

“I know. He never stops talking about you.”

“Do you care?” 

Aggu laughed, and you smiled at the ground. “I do.” You offered your cigarette, and he shook his head. “Just surprised, you are so different from him.” 

“We’re surprised sometimes, too.” 

Aggu turned to you and you shared a look. You dropped the stub on the ground, the music spilling over and out of the corner store. Wind rustled your hair, and still, he was gazing at you. 

“Baby,” Joost called from behind you, and he was next to you in an instant. 

“I was just talking to Aggu—“

“August,” he corrected. “August,” you repeated softly, and you felt like…like something was being interrupted, but you weren’t even sure what. 

“Bye, mausi,” Aggu said, leaving you and Joost.

The entire exchange was strange—still couldn’t speak firmer or louder than this, couldn’t even look him in the eye in front of Joost. Joost poked fun at you for being so shy—“What’s the matter, baby? He doesn’t bite.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe that.” 

Tonight, Aggu isn’t wearing the goggles—he’s a handsome man with or without them, but you prefer the look without him, getting to see his full face. 

“Why don’t you talk to Aggu, mausi?” Joost snickers and you roll your eyes. 

“You don’t look like you do PDA,” Aggu says, and your cheeks burn. You were never the type to before Joost, but now here you are with a remote-control vibrator inside and his lips on your jaw as you try to speak with his friend. 

“I don’t?” You ask, knowing full well you don’t. 

Joost cups you over your tits, and you almost gasp—He’s normally not so handsy, even if you two are the worst perpetrators of public affection in your group by far. 

“Joost,” you say softly, shaking your head and moving his hand down even though it’s strangely—it’s strangely arousing having him claim you so decisively in front of Aggu. 

“He doesn’t care,” Joost says, but keeps his hand where it is, right under the curve of your breast. 

“I don't care,” Aggu confirms, and you roll your eyes as Joost kisses behind your ear. “Are you two going to do anything for Joost’s birthday?” 

“We’re—Joost, let me talk to him,” you giggle as Joost nips at your neck. “We’re going to Portofino after Joost goes to Berlin.” 

“No invitation for me?” Aggu teases and you roll your eyes, smiling. “It was my birthday a few days ago too, you know?” 

“You’d have to ask Joost for one, I don't make the rules.” 

Joost pauses his lips on you to turn to Aggu and says a simple and decisive, “No,” then turns back to your bitten neck, your jaw. You’re half sure he’s doing this for his own pleasure—it feels like you’re being pecked at by an annoying, albeit very cute and enthusiastic bird. 

“I would take you if I could, Aggu,” you joke, and Aggu gives you a surprised look. Finally, Joost lets off of you, and you can finally turn to your conversation partner fully and give him some attention. 

“Braves mädchen, do you think your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“He likes you—he won’t.” Under you, Joost starts tapping his toe—nothing to distract him now, you guess, his leg moving under you. 

“Nahhh, he’s the jealous type, no? At least when it comes to you.”

You laugh until you don’t—until you widen your eyes, dropping your mouth open and furrowing your eyebrows because wave after wave after wave of pure pleasure hits your g-spot, the vibrations so strong they go through the tail and reach your clit, and you have to stifle a moan by covering your mouth with your hand. You turn back to see Joost on his phone—still restlessly tapping his foot, moving the vibrator even more inside of you. 

“Are you alright, mausi?” 

“She’s alright, just weird,” Joost snickers from behind, using your words from the past against you. 

“I’m-I’m just fine, Aggu,” you say as you clench your thighs together and give him a thin smile, looking back at Joost who’s trying to hide his face from you, thumb still moving on his phone screen. 

“You look—“ 

“I just—oh my god,” you sigh out, clenching your fist as you involuntarily rock back onto Joost and his jostling knee under you, the vibrator being turned up all the way and turning your brain into mush as it kisses your g-spot. You can’t even begin to care about what this looks like, or the fact that Aggu is watching you and your face contorted in pleasure, as much as you’re trying to control yourself. 

“Ah,” Aggu says. 

Just from the look of amused disbelief on his face, the way his eyes flit down at your hands in your lap desperately trying to cover your thighs though there’s nothing to cover up, at least to the eye—you’ve been caught. 

“Joost, what is that?” he says, then leans behind you so Joost can show him the app, the wavelengths on the screen sure to be high frequency. Aggu moves his hand behind you—is he really letting Aggu control it right now? Judging from his movements and the changing patterns of your 

Aggu daps Joost up, then gives you a sly smile and a pat on the cheek. “Don't worry, schatzi, I will keep your secret.”

He looks around at your friends; Ruby and Tantu lazing on the very end, Stuntje and Appie and Alanis and Marina having a heated discussion about something you can’t hear over the music, over the exchange happening between the men on either side of you. 

“Come on, Joost. You’re being mean to her,” Aggu says as Joost brings his arms back around your waist, placing you more on his crotch than his legs. His phone is in his hands (as usual), but this time, he’s got the app wide open. 

The vibrations are at the very top of the little control area, and you can feel it as you drop your head again, concealing your face completely so you can revel in the pleasure without anyone watching. 

Does Joost feel it right now, as you grind back on his lap without even meaning to? Through his jeans, he’s hard, and you can feel it clearly on your ass. 

“She can take it.” 

“Can you?” Aggu asks, turning to you, and you nod almost automatically, even as your thighs start tensing with the lead up to an orgasm. “Whatever you say, schatz.” 

Enough of him—you shift so you're turned away, mostly facing the crowd, mostly facing Joost. You drape your arms around his neck, face scrunching up, mouth dropping open as the vibrations pulse hard and fast so deep inside you. 

“Feel good?” Joost says, and you nod, trying to keep it together even as that knot ties in your stomach. He watches your face intently, pupils blown out and his hand rubbing circles on your back as you hold back a sob. The song over the speakers is Normalje Bass, the bass booming through your body inside-out. You hope and pray none of your friends are watching—you know Aggu is, even if your face is hidden from him. 

“I’m cumming,” you say as quietly as you can, lips parting with your quiet sighs as the waves of your orgasm start, so intense from all of the internal stimulation. 

“I know,” Joost soothes. “Just kiss me.” 

You moan into his mouth, pushing against him so he can muffle your sounds; you know that even if you were louder than this, the music would just drown you out, but his lips on yours, his hands on your body—they relax you. Joost moves his big hand to the nape of your neck, licking into your mouth. 

He tastes like cigarette smoke, smells like his heady cologne, nose bumping against yours. You gasp into his mouth as the vibrations continue, whining as it takes you past your point, your legs shaking with the comedown of your climax but the continued overstimulation inside of you. 

“Zo vies, holy shit guys,” Marina yells over the music so you can hear, fake gagging, which earns you a chorus of more fake gagging from the rest, clapping from Ruby and Tantu. 

“It’s my birthday—ik mag doen wat ik wil.” Joost laughs, waving them off. At the same time, he takes out his phone and turns off the vibrator completely, and every muscle in your body relaxes, the waves subsiding. 

Joost gives a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek as you try and catch your breath as subtly as possible. “You did so good, lieverd.” 

You nod, giving him his own kiss on his cheek for letting up on the toy. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” you breathe, and he grins. 

“You don’t need a break—”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Standing, you get off his lap and pull at the hem of your dress as you wait for Joost to get up. Your legs are still a bit shaky, the heels not helping at all, but you're too excited to go. 

“Leaving so soon?” Marina pouts, her head on Alanis’ shoulder and big eyes shining at you. You almost want to stay, but—you want Joost inside of you more. 

“They’ll be back,” Ruby teases, rolling her eyes at you both. Cheeks burning as you smile, you shake your head. 

“Maybe,” you say, it’s Joost—this is only the beginning of the night. 

Joost gets up from the booth, his hand on the small of your back immediately and guiding you away. Before you can go, Aggu holds his hand out to your boyfriend—“You’re a lucky man. Can I come?” Aggu grins, winking at you. 

“Fuck no, man,” he says, dapping him up, and you laugh as Joost takes your hand and pulls you along with him through the sea of people all dancing and drinking to his music, all of the friends you and him have made over the years. You give quick hellos to everyone you know, saying sorry and you’ll talk to them later—you’re half sure everyone knows where you’re headed, but you can't seem to care tonight. 

You and Joost are almost to the staircase, not without making several stops to have people wish him gefeliciteerd, hugs for both of you, promises to catch up later, there’s just something you both need to do. The first step on it, a raspy voice yells behind you, “Joostttt!!!” and you look to see Donnie, long hair in French braids and expensive jewelry all along his wrists as he pulls you in for a hug that you reciprocate. “Mijn meisje, how are you doing?” 

“I’m good, Donnie, how are you?” 

“Good, good, celebrating your boy,” he yells, reaching behind you to dap Joost up, the excitement at seeing each other heavy on their raspy laughs as Joost hugs him.

Your boy doesn't think you understand Dutch as well as you do, even after 5 years of him giving you impromptu Juolingo (as he calls them) lessons and even longer living here—“Don’t go to the bathroom for the next 20 minutes, man, alright?” he says to Donnie in the language, and you roll your eyes at his boldness.

“20 minuten? Christ, man, jullie zijn allebei verdomd gek,” he laughs in disbelief. 

“Het duurt 10 minuten, Donnie, maak je geen zorgen!” you yell back as Joost keeps pulling you up the stairs, and Donnie cackles as you leave him behind. 

There are several bathrooms downstairs, but the one you’re headed to is upstairs and down a hallway and another, so far away from the action it’s no wonder no one uses it—your favorite bathroom to use for…activities, seldom used yet still seedy as hell, the old fluorescents warm and flickering, the mirrors cracked and grimy. The sinks and the stalls are always relatively clean though; whether it’s from the lack of use or the club owners actually upkeep it, you don’t know and don’t care as you step into the middle of the three stalls, you and Joost’s favorite one. 

Even if you know that there’s no one in here, the drip of the leaky faucets echoing against walls and not other people, Joost still bends down and checks under and between the stall gaps for you before squeezing into the tight stall with you, locking it. 

Joost takes you by the arms and turns you around so you won't have to touch the slightly gross toilet at any part. “Finally alone,” he breathes, taking your face in his hands and giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose, which you laugh at. 

“What’s that for?” you say as Joost kisses both of your cheeks, then your lips three times in quick succession. 

“I missed you!”

“I sat on your lap the entire time.” 

“You weren’t facing me—I missed you!” 

You pinch his cheek and smile—how lucky you are to spend his birthday together. It wasn’t always like this; whether it was the constant cat-and-mouse game you both played in the beginning of your relationship or your job and school or his abundance of creative projects, every birthday over Facetime and belated celebration makes you love Joost and this even more.  

“You look very sappy,” Joost says, hands on your hips as you brush his bangs back then cup his face.

“I am sappy,” you say softly, and he laughs and kisses you. 

“We don't have time to be sappy—you said 10 minutes to Donnie, didn’t you? Mean, by the way.” Joost takes your hand and kisses your wrist, the silver chrome pendant of his initial dangling from the chain link bracelet he bought you last anniversary. “But I am sappy too, I hope you know.” 

He pretends to chomp on your hand before pulling you in for another kiss. “I’m so happy you're with me.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “Best birthday ever.” Kiss. 

Last year was the best birthday ever, too—you're just glad it only gets better. “I love you too.” Joost squeezes you tight and you groan once he squeezes you too tight, laughing once he lets go. 

“Sorry, I just love you.” 

“I know,” you say, patting Joost on the chest then running your hands down to his new copyright belt buckle, undoing it. He’s so obviously hard, it’s laughable thinking about how he walked through a crowd greeting his friends with a big tent in his jeans. 

You mouth at his neck, saying a quiet, “Hi Lola,” which he laughs at as you kiss along the side, sucking on the skin just slightly—he marks so easily and you've both already made it so obvious what you’re doing at his own birthday celebration. 

Reaching into his pants, you wrap your hand around his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps, the head already leaking precum. Joost smiles into your kiss—such a great birthday present for him. You suck his lower lip into your mouth momentarily, then come back together again, one hand lightly squeezing over the column of his neck, and his dick twitches in your hand in response. 

“Every time,” he whispers, shaking his head at his own arousal giving him away. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “That's why I do it.” 

You give him a few more jerks before turning around to face the other way. 

There are so many Joost doodles from your years together at this club, adding onto the muddled canvas on top of the stripping paint. Your favorite doodle inside your favorite stall is one you have to look up at. A heart around your name + JOOST in thick black Sharpie on the stall door in a little gap between all the graffiti, the dick drawings…the “Ruby was here ♡” in swirly cursive around eye level. Huh. Interesting. You never noticed that one before. 

“Hehe. Us!” Joost says, pointing with his finger at your names together like he didn’t write it there around a year ago. 

“Us,” you say, touching it with your finger. 

There isn’t much time for you to focus on it when Joost snakes his arms around you, one hand reaching into the cups of your dress to knead your tits, and the other reaching under it so he can rub you over your panties. 

“I almost forgot the thing was still inside you,” he murmurs, tugging at the tail of it gently, which makes you sigh out in pleasure. “My new favorite toy, but let me take it out.”

Placing your hands on the stall door, you bend over a little, which is really, about as much as you can bend with how tiny this space is. A few moments pass and you look back to see Joost kneeling on the ground—“Are you…seriously on your phone right now?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Sorry,” Joost says, squeezing your thigh. “I just have an idea.” 

“Okay,” you say, shimmying your thong down with your fingers and letting it fall to your ankles. You lift up the back half of your dress, exposing your ass.

Finally, Joost places his fingers on the back of your thigh, tugs it using his thumb and forefinger again. Slowly, he pulls it out of you and the impossibly wet sound of it, Joost’s eyes so intent on you, makes your cheeks burn fire. You clench around air—it feels so empty now. 

Joost bites your ass cheek, and to your surprise, licks a strip up your slit, which makes you have to hold onto the stall. You turn to look and he's giving you an exaggerated pout. “Can I eat you out?” he asks earnestly, big blue eyes pleading with you and you shake your head no. 

“What does it look like ditching your own celebration for so long? When we get home you can do it.” 

“Fine,” Joost grumbles, getting back up. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times, spreading the precum down his shaft. He swipes the head through your slit, dipping the tip inside of you a few times,  “My god, you’re so wet, schat,” he says, and you can feel it, the smooth and frictionless glide of him through you, “This is crazy.”

“Stop fucking teasing, oh my god,” you sigh, and as you say it, Joost still teases you, the tiniest little thrusts with your pussy enveloping only the head of his cock. 

“Bossy,” he mumbles, and then you hear the familiar loud vibration of the pink toy in his hand. You look at him with wide eyes and he shrugs. “We can use it while we do this.” 

“Mmm…okay,” you say, turning back around and getting ready for him to enter you again. Joost wraps his arms around you again, one holding the toy to your mound and sending the vibrations through your body again, the other cupping your tits from below. 

Slowly, Joost thrusts inside of you, the wet slide of his cock inching inside of you making you shudder. Once he bottoms out, his hips snug against your ass, he whispers into the side of your face, “Ik hou van je,” and you nod, eyes closed in intense pleasure at how big he feels, the pulsing vibrations on your clit. 

Joost pulls you back onto him by the hip, thrusting forward at the same time so they punch against your g-spot even harder. The moans just tumble out of his mouth, strangling out your name, various curses, his pace steady but unforgiving to you in the throes of your arousal. In this position, he’s so big, and you’re so wet, and the vibrator is so strong—you could collapse. 

“So good, baby,” Joost breathes out against your shoulder, and you turn your head to kiss him. He does, but at the same time pressing the toy even harder against your bud, making you sob out his name, clenching around him. “Taking me so well, baby, so good.” 

Your shared moans and breaths bounce off the tile walls, the clack of your heels as you adjust your stance to get him deeper inside of you, Joost’s raspy voice in your ear and his teeth in your neck. The sound of your pussy around him fucking into you incessantly—you should be ashamed at how filthy it sounds, but you aren’t, and you know Joost isn’t either. 

Joost slows down his hips, and you whine at the stalled pace—“Mijn schat, can I see you?” Joost asks, breathless as he slides out of you with that sound again that’s music to your ears, and you turn to face him, wetness smearing your thighs. The vibrations subside completely again, and Joost takes the vibrator off of you. 

“I want to see you, too,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “But how are we gonna do that?” 

“You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“That isn’t hard to do.” 

Reaching down, he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up and you help hike it up for him. The palm of his hand is under your bent knee, and you look back up at him to tilt your head and give him a confused face.  

“Did you see this in like, a video or something?” you laugh, especially looking down at the absurdity of it all; crammed in the smallest bathroom stall known to man, crotches together, teetering on a high heel while your boyfriend holds up your leg for you. 

“Being away from you so often,” he says, hiking your leg up further and making you yelp and laugh as you almost fall. “It means I get lots of ideas about how I want you.” 

Joost wraps your arms around his shoulders, his neck so you can have better balance—the heels make you perfectly in line with his cock and you both look down and watch as he uses his free hand and his hips to guide his cock into you slowly, parting your folds as it disappears inside of you. Your lips part, brows knit together at the feeling so perfect that you sob out once he bottoms out so deeply in you. 

The sounds are so filthy when Joost starts thrusting, you might actually be ashamed of it for once; the hollow clap of his hips against your pelvis echoing against the dingy walls, the wet slide of his cock in and out and in and out of you—every moan out of your mouth is one you couldn’t dream of holding back, mewling into his jacket shoulder, clinging onto him and leopard print fabric tightly as he fucks into you, tight hand around your hip sliding him into you over and over again. 

Usually you’re the one calling the shots around here, Joost hanging onto your every word as your sweet and loving life partner, but he’s got you in his palm, your hands clawing at the back of his jacket, gripping onto the long hair at the nape of his neck, your heavy breaths and choked out moans as you sob his name out. 

“I’m close, schatje,” Joost breathes into your ear, his big hands kneading your ass as he thrusts, arms wrapped tight so he can keep your leg up for you with how much control you’ve lost over yourself at how amazing he feels inside of you. You nod, not really caring at all, close to the edge yourself and your hips tired from the position—it’s his birthday. He deserves this and more. 

“I love you,” you breathe, resting your cheek on his shoulder and closing your eyes as your orgasm starts, the waves coming through you as you tighten and clench around his cock. You're so stretched open, it’s mind blowing for you, and Joost tells you such, babbling about how tight you feel, how good you are for him as you release hard and fast around him, muffling your sounds with his mouth. 

This stall is so stuffy—sweat on sweat and when you open your eyes, Joost gazes at you, eyes half-lidded as he places your forehead against yours, thrusts firmly as his face contorts in pleasure, as the heat rises between you two, skin slapping on skin, all of your love filling all of the room. 

“I love you, schat, I love you,” he says, kissing you as he groans out into your mouth, painting your walls white, warm and full as he gives you the final hard and stuttering few thrusts, fucking every last drop of his cum into you. 

Joost licks into your mouth, spit on your chins as he softens inside of you, breathy moans coming out of him at the overstimulation of your movements. Now that you’ve both stilled, the setting his come back to you—the drippy faucet, the music bumping through the walls sounding like muffled nonsense though you know it’s Joost’s, the stall door cold against your back and the cum already leaking out of you around his cock. 

“Joost, can you let go of my leg, please?” you say quietly, eyes closed as you catch your breath, both of you somehow lean against the stall door now, him panting into your neck, your leg around his hip. 

“Oopsie,” Joost says, giving you a kiss on your neck before placing your leg on the floor gently and straightening up; he pulls the cups of your dress up so they’re covering your chest again, pulls the hem of it down your thigh so you aren’t so exposed. You can feel it drip down your inner thighs as he reaches down and brings your panties back up—Joost is so sweet. You’ll never get used to it.

“Happy birthday to me,” he sings, laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in. 

“Happy birthday to you.” 

i so appreciate all of your guys' patience with me when it comes to my writing and i hope you enjoyed!! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) askbox anon on hereeee - juno

[be-my-sunrise]

1:40am || oh sion

pairings: idol bf!sion x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff if you squint. minors pls dni

word count: 1,023

warnings: suggestive content, they're just kissing and groping each other lmao

a/n: ik i said i only write for dreamies, but i just physically CANNOT get this gorgeous man out of my head so i had to write something for him lmao. anyways i hope you enjoy!! thank you queen @jenoslutie for beta reading<3

tags: @wispyxjae i hope you like it teehee :3

It has been quite some time since you last saw Sion. He has been very busy with his schedule and album preparations, and he finally gets a day off today, so he invited you over to his dorm to hang out. 

After lunch, you and Sion decided to watch a movie that he had been wanting to watch. At least that's what you were doing.

Both of you start making out passionately before you even know it. You should have known though, because Sion couldn't keep his hands to himself since you arrived. The two of you pull away after a while to catch your breath.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. 

“Me too, baby.”

Sion presses his lips against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You tilt your head to one side as he continues to pepper kisses. 

“I miss having your body on mine and the way you feel around me.” He mumbles against your neck. “Fuck. I miss the way you taste.”

Sion slips one hand under your shirt, gently caressing your waist. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your sweet spot.

“I need you, baby. Right now.”

“No, we can't do this now. What if your friends come back early?” You let out a heavy sigh and pull yourself away from him. 

“Come onnn~” Sion pouts, looking at you with pleading eyes. “We’re finally alone, and they won't be back any time soon.” 

“I don't–” Sion cuts you off with a peck on your lips. “But, I–” He pecks you again.

“Please, baby.” Sion places his hand on your jaw and swipes his thumb on your bottom lip. 

You lean into his touch and you can’t help but stare at his plump lips. Truth be told, you want the same thing as him. You were hesitant because you don't want his friends to walk in on you and Sion. Not again. 

But, your body craves him. His touch. You need him. You lean forward and lock lips with him.

“Wait,” he mumbles against your lips and pulls away. 

“This means yes, right?” He asks, making you giggle at the way his face lights up.

“Yes, baby,” you pause to climb onto his lap and put your arms around his neck. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”

You let out a satisfied hum as your lips meet his once again. As the kiss gets more heated, you start grinding on his hardening cock, making him moan. Sion places his hands on your hips to guide your movements. You drag your hands down his chest and abs, feeling his toned muscles. 

You tug on Sion’s shirt, signaling him to take it off. He understands the message and he quickly takes his shirt off in one swift motion, not wanting to part lips with yours too long. You squeal as Sion suddenly lifts you up to lay you down on the couch. He hovers over your body, resting one arm next to your head to support his own weight.

Your fingers find their way to his dark locks, pulling on the strands as he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck. A gasp escapes your lips as he bites the skin, leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulder. 

Sion slips one hand under your shirt and makes its way towards your chest. He grips the soft flesh before pulling down the fabric covering your tits. You let out a loud moan as he continues sucking on your sweet spot while also playing with your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud using his thumb and index finger.

Just when you’re about to get to the good part, you hear feet shuffling at the front door. Sion’s head shot up upon hearing the familiar voices. The panic settles in when the two of you lock eyes, realizing who’s at the other side of the door right now. 

Both of you scramble to sit up and fix your appearances. Sion puts his shirt back on and helps you cover the hickeys he left on your neck with your hair. You put a small pillow over his lap to cover his prominent boner just as the front door swings open.

“We’re home!” 

You and Sion pretend to be watching the still-playing movie as Riku and Yushi walk into the living room. 

“H-hey, guys! Back so soon?” Sion asks.

Riku sighs, “yeah, we’re a bit tired, so we decided to just get home.”

There’s a moment of silence and you silently hope that they won’t notice anything. Yushi clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence.

“Well, uhh, we’ll be in our rooms if you need anything.” He says as he walks towards his room with Riku following him closely behind.

You let out a relieved sigh when Riku and Yushi are out of sight. You share a look with Sion and burst into giggles.

“By the way,” your laughter stops when you hear Riku's voice. You turn to him, who's looking at you and Sion with a knowing look, waiting for him to finish his sentence. 

“You know your shirt is inside out, right?”

Riku then walks away with a smirk on his face. Your eyes shoot to Sion's shirt and face-palm yourself out of embarrassment. Sion laughs out loud, throwing his head back against the back-rest. 

Sion leans closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Should we continue this in my room?” 

“Hmm… Maybe. Only if you can keep quiet.” 

“I think that's gonna be hard for you, baby.”

Sion looks at you with a smug expression. You raise your eyebrows, taking his words as a challenge.

“Okay, we're doing this now. Let's go.” 

You get off the couch, pulling Sion along with you to go to his room. Yushi got out of his own room just in time to see you slamming the door to Sion's room close and lock it. He turns to Riku, who's standing in the kitchen. Riku sighs and walks towards him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Come on, let's just go to the dorm upstairs and play games with Jaehee.”

[luckhound]

gintoki + relationship headcanons.

↻ pairing ✦ gintoki/gender neutral reader

↻ request ✦ I read your rules and stuff, and I hope I read it right gsusvjddn can I request some relationship headcanons for Gintoki? I can't watch the final movie for Gintama yet and I am devastateD —anonymous

↻ warnings ✦ mild suggestive content, blink and you'll miss it; terrible attempt at humour

author's note: this is several years late but i Just started a rewatch and was reminded of my love for this story and its characters. so uh, better late than never?

First of all, you deserve a medal for perseverance. You managed to do the impossible by entering into a relationship with this man, who dodges romantic entanglements without even trying to despite the many possible love interests in the source material

Now you have to deal with a cheapskate who doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. Congrats!

Don't expect to be taken out on a date any time soon; his idea of a good time is to recline on the couch and read Jump. Unfortunately, that doesn't change even when he has a partner who he could be spending his free time with

When the two of you do go out, maybe sit down somewhere for a bite to eat, Gintoki expects you to pay. What? He should foot the bill? With what money? Any cash that so much as brushes his hands is snatched up by the old hag (Otose), or gobbled up by the brat with the bottomless stomach (Kagura), or swallowed up by the pachinko machines that the idiot hits up (Gintoki)

Rarely do you have privacy. At any given time, a revolving door of characters will intrude upon your finite alone time with Gintoki; if it isn't the rare client asking for help, it's one of his friends annoyances (or so he calls them) stumbling into you two, or some two-bit villain hatching the latest evil plan that's plaguing Edo this week

Then there's Shinpachi and Kagura, who stick to the man like gum on a shoe. Sure, you do adore them, but babysitting two kids while trying to spend quality time with Gintoki can get old—you're dating a penniless samurai, not a struggling single dad!

Don't bother expecting him to get jealous or possessive; if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, it'd go right over his head

You would have to spell it out for him after the fact, and even then he'd stare at you with those dead fish eyes, wondering what you wanted him to do about it

Wait a second, you must be thinking. All of these bullet points so far have only listed the cons of dating this bastard! Where's the good stuff? What are the pros?

There aren't any, sorry to say. You're better off dumping him like yesterday's garbage and moving on to someone worth your time

Which is probably what Gintoki would say, if forced at gunpoint to answer truthfully; he has no clue why you tied your fate to him of all people

You, on the other hand, might reply with:

He's constantly finding excuses to touch you. His head in your lap while he reads Jump on the couch, his ankle brushing yours under the table when dining out, his arm tossed around your shoulders as you walk

As much as he loudly complains and huffs and rolls his eyes, he doesn't stop you when you steal food from his plate. He'll even let you swipe some of his parfait, despite threatening to make you pay for another. It'd be easy for him to slap your hand away, but he never does

Romantic he may not be, but you know just how much he wants you by the way he can't keep his hands off you when the mood hits; his every touch elicits shivers, his mouth never strays far from yours for long, his gaze dark and intent on you

There is no one more doggedly loyal than Gintoki. No one who cares more about your wellbeing and happiness. No one else who would put you first when it matters, protect you from anything or anyone that may try to harm you

For those reasons and more, you'll deal with the many downsides that come with dating Sakata Gintoki. Not always happily, mind you, but you'll do it anyway

("Why do they even put up with him?" Shinpachi wonders aloud, watching the two of you bicker for the fifth time that day. "Stockholm syndrome," is Kagura's immediate answer.)

[kilgarraara]

"I'll make you say how proud you are of me"

I saw a very cool animatic for this game with Silli Billy song that I heard for the first time and this phrase with the scene that was in there is spiraling in my head for several days already

[technicalgator]

I fuckin’ love meshed together taxidermy like this.

Kinda wish I did something like this with the first deer mount I got from my first buck kill. Woulda been waaay cooler.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: creepy in the luring kind of way ✧ tags: other!eddie ✧ @steddiemicrofic (≧∇≦)ﾉ⁠✧

The ringing wasn’t that annoying, mostly because it meant his favourite guest had arrived.

“Meow.”

And there he is, with the little charm on his collar. Steve has no idea how it makes a jingling sound but it’s so cute, he doesn’t really care.

“Hello precious,” Steve greets and opens his windows out to let the black cat in. Robin always complains and calls it a hazard, but she also baby-talks to him so Steve doesn’t take it to heart.

But the cat doesn’t come in. He stares at Steve with wide eyes, eyes as red as the jewel of his charm. Huh. He didn’t know cat eyes could be red.

The cat meows again and hops out of the window. Steve takes his coat, locks his front door and steps out. The cat meows again, hopping along the street and Steve follows.

“Meow.”

Steve blinks. The cold air has finally hit his skin and has him shivering except – he’s been cold for a while, hasn’t he? He’s been – he’s been walking for a while, his legs ache so much. Steve looks around, the shadows of the empty road crawling around him, and realizes he must have left town ten minutes ago.

How –

The cat.

The one that always came to their window and asked to be let in, the one he followed all this way.

Where is it?

“Aren’t you a little far from home?”

Steve swivels around, hand grasping out for – for what?

A man smiles at him from the middle of the road. It’s too dark to see his face but he can see his eyes.

Pretty, pretty red.

“What are you doing here, stranger?” the man asks as he holds his hand out, crooking a finger in a ‘come-hither’ kind of way.

Steve stumbles over. “I – I was following this cat, where –“

The man’s (pretty, so pretty) red eyes widen, and he barks out a laugh. Steve smiles with him. “A cat, huh? In this cold? Oh, you poor thing.”

The moment he said that, the chill of the wind bit at Steve’s ears, and he shudders.

“Oh no,” the man tuts. He steps closer to Steve, pulling him in by his waist and adjust his own thick, fur coat around the both of them. “Is that better, sweetheart?”

Steve smiles, and he knows it’s his dopiest one because it’s the one that would always make people laugh and call him an idiot.

The man’s smile drops and his (beautiful, bloody) eyes flare angrily. He holds Steve even closer, even tighter, and Steve feels so warm. “They’re not worth it, sweetheart. We’re here now.”

Nuzzling into his neck, Steve sighs happily.

“That’s it, darlin’,” the man murmurs and he sighs too. “You don’t even remember me, but I’ve been so lonely without you.”

“Without me?” Steve frowns and goes to look at the man, Eddie, in the eye but a cold, clawed hand presses his face back into the warm skin. “Why were you without me?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Eddie chuckles and Steve hums. “You’ve got me now and I’ve got you. Just like we said.”

Steve peeks over Eddie’s shoulder, where the lights of the town fade into the shadows. Just like they said.

[vulpixisananimal]

Carrion!Sif AU, Chapter 1.

ACT 1, The Hunger.

(Au origonaly by @traumaboyexo. it's so cool. I'm 100% going to do more of this.)

"Siffrin!"

(You're lying down in the field near Dormont. You had a weird dream about eating a star. You smell cherries, Mirabelle was calling your name.)

". . . Siffrin?" (She's looming over you now, your Housemaiden.) "Good morning! Or, well more like good afternoon I guess. Were you taking a nap? That's just like you. . . Only you could sleep peacfully at a time like this, hee hee."

(You're too sleepy to talk, you close your eye again.)

"You're still half asleep, aren't you. I'll let you sleep a bit longer, but not too long!!"

(. . . Ugh. You can't stay here, like this. The sun was nice, and you could smell the birds in the air. The people in the village. The faint and distinct smell Mirabelle carried with her. But you were getting hungry, really, really hungry.)

(Wake up, Siffrin. You have a country to save.)

>>>

(Statues, big and small, all with different faces. Some jump up and down, some are sad, some are happy. The Change God, Deity of all of Vaugarde, stands before you.)

(So much has happened over the last few months, since you met Mirabelle. You helped save them from a sadness, and you were here to defeat the King. They were nice, they were your familly.)

(Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonniface. Each of them had been your best friends, or at least allies. You hoped you were friends, at least.)

(Mirabelle once asked if you were ok with following them on your journey. You truthfully answered that this had been the happiest you'd ever been. But, that just made her look upset.)

(You cringe just thinking about it, truth be told.)

(You're still hungry.)

>>>

"Don't worry about a thing, then. Can I get you anything on the house? A croissant, maybe? . . . Incredible, incredible. I've never seen someone give such a look of disdain when offered croissant."

"A Pain Au Chocolate, then. Only monsters don't like Pain Au Chocola."

(You like those! You nod!!)

"Ha, one Pain Au Chocolate, coming up."

(You got the Pain Au Chocolate!! Yay!!)

(You know they're really, really bad for your stomach. But it's still warm! Smells of butter and chocolate. You try and restrain yourself with one small bite. But you're so hungry, it smells so good!! You take one bite, and another, and another!!)

". . . Not gonna lie, seeing a tiny one like you eat like a rabid beast. . . That was distrubing, but also weirdly satisfying."

(Haha, this was future Siffrins problem.)

>>>

(The Favor Tree looms above you.)

(You look around for a good leaf, one to represent you. You need it for the Favor Tree, after all.)

(A wish, a wish. . . Favor Trees must be popular around Vaugarde, these days. Everyone must be wishing for the same thing. So, why should you join them, then? What's one more wish on the pile. Something small. . .)

(You wish for. . .)

>>>

"Phew, Bonbon! That was DE-LI-CIOUS!!"

(It was really, really good!! You ate every bite on your plate! It was sooooo tasty, but now your tummy was feeling upset. Damn you, past Siffrin!! But, you could still eat more!!)

"Aw Siff, are you still hungry?" (Isabeau asks.)

"Frin, you ate a lot, huh!! You liked my cooking a lot, huh!!! Here, have some more food since you're so hungry and like my cooking so much."

(Bonnie gives you one (1) carrot slice. It smelled tasty!)

(Chomp.)

"Won't that give you a stomach ache? Nevermind that, how can you still eat after all that food?" (Odile asks, concerned.)

"I'm a growing kid!" (You reply, cheekily.)

"A growing kid that drinks achohol?!?"

"You're older than most of the people here?!?"

(You wink cutely.)

"I suppose we're lucky to get some meat for you all the way out here." (Odile sighs.) "What a strange diet you have."

(You shrug. You've always been like this.)

>>>

(You step into the House of Change. It feels. . . Wrong. You have a tingling on the back of your neck. A tingling you'd always get when something was "off.")

(A house frozen in time. A faint smell of sugar slicing through the air. It was strange, but still you were confident. You could smell your companions following you, step by step. Each as distinct as the next.)

(You're hungry again.)

(You smell a sadness ahead.)

>>>

(Huh?)

"Is something wrong, Siffrin?" (Asks Odile.)

(You look around. There, behind you, there was a flickering white. . . Star?)

"Did you see that light?" (You ask.)

"A light?" (Mirabelle looks concerned.)

"Something wrong, Sif?" (Isa adds.)

(You walk over to the light and point to it.)

". . . . . . ?"

(So they can't see it? It smelled of sugar.)

(You reach out and touch the light.)

>>>

(Traps? Traps?)

"A job for me then." (You say, cheekily.)

"It is your job."

"Protect us, trap master!"

(Not the first time you had to reassure Mirabelle. Time to look around.)

(You look around the room. Checking each wall, checking the floors, checking the pillars. You felt the brickwork for anything, a hidden switch, a pressure plate, anything. It all smelled of... Sugar, and old stone. Well maintained, it smelled of people too. You could smell. . . Fear, worry, no, no that was Mirabelles. She smelled of fear, it smelled. . .)

(You're hungry again.)

(There's nothing here. You can't find any switches, so. . .)

"So? So are we safe?? We're not safe, are we!! This is the death corridor!!! There must be a trap--"

(Oh come on now.) "There's nothing weird in here."

"But there must be!!"

"Aw, Mira. . ."

"Belle, Belle, don't worry about it. Frin isn't good at many things, but they know stuff about traps."

(Hey. . .)

"Right, if we can't trust the one who's supposed to lead us THIS early, this wont bode well for later."

(HEY--)

"But! But!"

"We're not dead yet." (You say, stepping through the hall.)

"W-well, that's true. . ."

"We HAVE been in this room for a while. . . And Siffrin has been walking everywhere. So if it was weight sensitive, it would have gone off by now."

"Exactly! It's all fine!!"

"Oh. . . Yeah, yeah okay! I'll believe you! Sorry for worrying, I'm a little on edge."

(You smile at them.) "We're good, Mira, see?" (You walk to the center of the room.)

"Everythings fine!"

(. . . . The back of your neck tingles. Somethings-)

(CRACK.)

(THUD.)

[endrimer]

EYES-cream sundae! 😋

[sunshine-and-her-ikevil-stuff]

I fear that Alfons's route will be just as emotionally taxing as Elbert's and I'll miss using my tickets in time just like I did in Elbert's route because my brain's had enough emotions and miss finishing the mission board again

[yoinkschief]

You have no idea how long this has needed to be done, he's been brewing in my head with no ability to do anything about it

Anyway time to explain some shit

The boy on the left is regular Tom and the one on the right is him halfway transformed Teefers too big for him mouth and I'm just now realizing I forgot to draw Tom's snake bites and other earrings fuck me oml Oh and he gets fuzzier cause in order to transform to and fro his demon form his body speeds up the growth process to help with the pain (something that developed, it was not instantaneously there and it's not perfect, the process is still INCREDIBLY painful he does not enjoy it)

Anyway, I wanted to say that usually a demon's horns (in my headcanon anyway) usually represent age, but there are certain sins that don't follow this rule such as Wrath and Lust, instead their horns represent power and status more than anything (the larger the horns, the more powerful you're considered and better treated you are in society) but even then not every demon will have horns, like Envy or Sloth

To explain my demon hierarchy and world building would take several posts and multiple AO3 books for everyone to properly understand it the way I see it but just know that there are 7 sins, the seven deadly sins, that each demon falls under (more or less, anyway), there are the original sins, the children they created asexually like starfish do and then their children mingling together and creating different races of demons and complex hybrids,,, pretty much every demon you see will be a mutt save for very high class demons (such as the OG sins and the demons that have the most "pure" blood of their predecessors)

Tom's demon, is really fucking weird in that regard because yes, his Demon is a full Rage Demon or in other words, a perfect demon of Wrath but it's like... Artificially made. And no one knows how

wink

But yeah it's super freaky and he's like one of the few things that could give demons themselves the sense of uncanny valley

Very hard to close mouth You know how snakes can open their jaws super wide to eat prey?... Yeah

Tom is based off of two things, besides demons n dragons ofc: Snakes and Spiders. I fucking hate spiders you have no idea how much looking this shit up sucked

Anyway his venom is stored in his teeth like how spiders are, but he's got a very snake-ish mouth. And can open his jaw super fucking wide like a snake or certain species of spiders can. To the best is a very simplified side profile example of that,,,, maybe I should make some body horror art of him with his fully extended jaw like some freak ass spider. That'd give me nightmares. Which I guess is the point.

I put too much time and effort into that mouth, please appreciate it

Also yeah closing his jaw is super hard cause of his lil snake-ish spider-ish teeth that protrude out of his mouth

Demons of Wrath tend to have bigger builds

BIG BOYYYY I LOVE HIM

This mother fucker is genuinely the reason it took me so long to create this damn sheet,, I could never figure how I wanted him to look, but in the end I stuck to something close to canon with my own stylized shit. Like his horns and jutting out teeth

Diving a bit deeper into my demon world building lore that's been brewing in my head for nearly a decade now (yikes that hurts to think about) demons have different builds, Pride and Lust tend to be very similar to society's standards of beauty (ever changing as humans adapt, so do demons... hmmm) versus Gluttony and Wrath tending to be more nightmarish and your run of the mil cryptid you'd see in the woods when you were fucking around where you shouldn't be

Symbol of Wrath

Every House or Sin has their own symbol, usually reserved for the original sins, but Tom is a special case because,,, reasons I'm not disclosing at the moment cause I think it's silly and shit or whatever I dunno I guess I'm embarrassed to explain it? For some reason? Anyway back to this

Nothing more to explain about it really, just that Tom has this marking on his monster form's chest and that's the black mark on the previous picture,,, except it's not actually fully black like that, it was just too tiny to get the details right so I decided to do the next best thing lol

It's a lion with horns that can be interpreted as Scorpion Tails, because the sin of Wrath is usually associated with Lions, Bears, Dragons and I think Scorpions fit, too, makes me think of the scorpion and the frog

Anyway that's my rant about headcanons I put too much thought, time and effort into that three people will read lol

[clown-prince-of-gay]

Guys.... I got a bit too silly and drew Jeffery T. Killer again.

I swear im normal.

Likes and reblogs appreciated! Do not repost!

[ask-the-puppet-and-the-puppeteer]

< Previous | First | Next >

[ruby4111]

As promised, here's a write-up of Kimzu Luhire's current backstory!

(To anyone well-versed in DND lore, constructive critisim is accepted! I'd love to learn more about the subject)

---

Kimzu was born in a low-ranking Drow family, her mother passed away after she was born, so her dad married into a noble house so they could survive. 

The Matron of the house treated Kimzu more like a servant than a child. The Matron expected Kimzu to fend for herself, so most days she was alone. 

Growing up, Kimzu became a bit of a recluse, mostly doing house work & learning about Drow culture & history through the books in her room. She never liked Lolth from what she read about, but she knew better than to go against her. 

As the years went on, her father became more distant towards her, she was seen by most as a pathetic pushover, a bad example of what a Drow woman should be. 

The year she became the equivelant of 12 years old, her life was threatened by accidently getting involved in a bad fight between her father & the Matron, accusing him & his daughter of treason against Lolth. The Matron threatening to put down her father, Kimzu tried to stop her but was badly wounded from getting between them. Knowing no one would help her, that she would die if she did nothing, Kimzu ran away. She decided she was was going to the surface and staying there, far away from Lolth's domain. 

While navigating the Underdark, due to her own panicking & clumsiness, Kimzu tripped over herself & was spotted trying to escape the Underdark by a patrol of Drow soldiers, they must've been notified of her treason as they started chasing her immediately. Kimzu, trying to escape her pursuers & the dangers of the Underdark's wilderness, was further injured, but she could see moonlight in the distance, reaching the ends of the Upperdark, her pursuers lost her in the wilderness, never finding a body.

Kimzu was now in a strange forest of some sort, she kept running until her legs gave out. She was exhausted, not knowing what to do, but right at that moment, what looked like a small rabbit approached her, they told her that she could be saved, they asked if she wanted the power to protect herself, that she could if she joined them. Kimzu, not having much of a choice, refused to succumb to her wounds and, without being fully aware of it, formed a pact with an unknown Archfey Patron through who would become her lifelong companion. Kimzu felt rejuvenated, with her newfound power, she got back on her feet and started a new life, with her rabbit-like friend now named Oliver.

Now Kimzu has grown, she's the equivelant of 16 years old & wants to be a better & stronger person who could save lives like Oliver & her Patron did for her.

She has been taught many things by Oliver, such as how to forage for food & defend herself as a Warlock; she now resides in small remote caves near the surface, preparing for the day she can face Lolth, with Oliver by her side.

[morally-gray-omens]

"Men have treated me poorly in the past so i do my best to avoid them due to truama."

and most everybody goes "Valid! so sorry that happend to you. You go girl!"

^(Wich is the correct/kind thing to do)

but then "Wemon have treated me poorly in the past so i do my best to avoid them due to truama."

And almost everybody calls him sexist and an incel ect ect ect.

Im not saying those people dont exist. They do, and its very problematic. But this is extremely one sided and biased and it makes me sad. I dont fall into either of these categories myself, im not uncomfortable with any gender, but i respect those of whom that is a trigger for.

There are people, from both sides, who use their past experiences as an excuse to discriminate against people based on gender alone. But there are many people who are just trying to keep themself safe and heathy, mental health included.

I dont think its right to hate anybody because of their gender alone. I dont think its okay to assume everybody that falls into one catagory is a terrible person souly based on interactions youve had with others in that category before.

but i DO think peoples triggers should be respected, and people should not be judged for distancing themselves from reminders of truama and things that make them uncomfortable. It is entierly valid and heathy to avoid contact with one gender or another because of this, and is by no means inherently sexist.

Tldr; respect everybody and their experiences regardless of gender.

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[pan-annigans]

hold it

there's something i find very terrifying about having adhd and realizing you're hyperfixating on a close friend

i made this really fast last night because i needed to work through it. vent art is unusual for me but... idk. i don't feel so well