#so it was to be expected that i was super into him i thought he was so cool

[hoseoksluna]

LITTLE JUICE | JJK

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut, pwp

rating: 18+

summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.

luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.

luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 

The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 

No BS by Chris Brown.

The song that started it all.

Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.

You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 

TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 

You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 

Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 

Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 

He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 

You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 

You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 

Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 

You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” 

Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 

Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 

Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.

It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 

You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 

Your hips. 

A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 

He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 

You’re in trouble. 

Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 

“Did you get wet for me?” 

A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 

For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 

Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 

But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 

You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”

His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 

He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 

“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 

The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 

Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 

A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 

You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 

And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 

You place your hands on top of his. 

A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 

It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 

Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 

You hump him. 

“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 

This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 

But the moment is ruined all too soon. 

A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 

You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 

Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 

A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 

You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 

Smart man. 

“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 

He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 

“They’re gone.” 

And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 

A hungry look is wrung into his features. 

The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 

He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 

Five torturous days. 

“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 

You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 

The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 

He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 

You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 

“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 

You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 

Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 

“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 

You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 

He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 

“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”

And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 

And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 

“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 

Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 

You leak for him, nonetheless. 

Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 

“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 

Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 

But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 

Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 

The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 

Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 

Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 

Not even as you come down from your high. 

Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 

Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 

“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 

Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 

“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 

You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 

Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 

“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 

In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 

There it is. 

“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 

You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 

Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 

“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 

His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 

And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 

You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 

You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 

You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 

“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 

“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 

Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 

He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 

Your life is over.

“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 

He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 

“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 

And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 

The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 

And he doesn’t pull away. 

He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 

You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 

Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 

The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.

“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 

Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 

His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.

“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 

The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 

“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 

You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 

An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 

He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 

At home, you fuck him hard for it. 

With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 

He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 

And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[cheshireliam]

"Mystery Bag 2025" Story Sale

Fast and Agile! Team Stamina Monsters!

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Prologue (translated by @.judesmoonbeauty)

— Preliminary round. Group 1: Liam, Roger, Ellis, Ring.

…

Roger: This is just perfect. I’m teamed up with a bunch of real nasty fellas again.

Ellis: Nasty?

Roger: First of all, there’s you.

Roger: According to my investigations, your physical abilities are basically superhuman and easily one of the best in Crown. 

Ellis: Really? I don't work out, so I’ve always thought I’m pretty normal.

Roger: Normal people don’t go jumping around on rooftops. 

Ellis: Fufu, I got complimented.

Ellis: Speaking of which, Liam’s very agile too. He’s fast on his feet and has good stamina.

Liam: Unlike Ellis, I’m not naturally gifted with good athletic abilities. I worked out to perform better on stage, that’s all. 

Roger: And then we have you. I think you’re the black horse this time, Vogel’s little brother.

Ring: … Me?

Roger: Just look at those firm muscles. I never knew Vogel had someone like you. 

Roger: Mind if I perform a physical examination on you later? I haven't been able to collect much data on Vogel. 

Ring: … 

Ellis: Roger, you’re making Ring uncomfortable. 

Roger: Oh, my bad. I got excited seeing such a fresh potential research subject— 

Ring: T-that’s not it!

Roger • Ellis: ?

Ring: I’ve never been complimented like that before, so… 

Ring: It made me happy to be praised. I’d probably be prancing around if no one else was present. 

Roger: … You know…

Roger: Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of like a dog? 

Ring: A dog?

Roger: Ring, paw¹.

Ring: L-like this¹?

¹ Roger actually says “hand” here but I just thought this would be funnier because that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. 

Roger: See? Exactly the same. Who’s a good boy~~

Ring: D-damn it…! 

Liam: Ahaha, you’re now part of Roger’s favourites list. 

Ellis: We should let him play with Ale sometime. 

Townspeople: Ready, set, LIAAAAAMM! 

Ellis: Aren't those your fans?

Liam: You’re right! Thanks for supporting me! 

Townspeople: KYAAA~~! 

Roger: Hm? What’s the matter, dog— I mean, Ring? You’re spacing out.

Ring: Ah, um! Liam Evans! 

Liam: Whoa— y-yeah? Did I do something wrong?

Ring: … Umm.

Ring: … Uhhh 

Ring: I’ve always thought you’re really cool! 

Liam: Wha…

Ring: You’re very pink, sparkly, and captivating… 

Ring: I’m not good with my words, but you remind me of a peacock’s feathers… you’re just super impressive.

Ellis: Those are some very… unique compliments. 

Liam: Oh, um…

Liam: I’m really glad that you think of me that way. Thanks! 

Ring: …! 

Ring: … Ah, y-yeah. 

Liam: Hehe.

Roger: This is the first time you two formally meet, huh. 

Ellis: Ring, how happy are you right now?

Roger: Hey, Ellis. Don’t kill him before the competition even starts. 

Event Official: The members of Preliminary Group 1, please gather at the starting line. 

Ellis: Ah, looks like they’re calling for us.

Liam: Alright, from this point on, it’s all or nothing. No hard feelings regardless of who wins or loses.

Ring: Yeah, the competition will be fair and square. 

Roger: It’s great to see you guys all pumped up, but don’t get yourselves injured. I’ve got enough work to do already.

Liam • Ellis • Ring: Got it! 

Roger: I love that response.

Event Official: We will now commence with Group 1’s preliminary round! 

Event Official: Who will be the first to reach the finish line and be crowned the 2025 Happy Boy!? 

Event Official: Let's begin! On your marks… ready… GO!

*BANG!* 

…

Loud Male Townsperson: Wha—!? Those guys are crazy fast! 

Loud Female Townsperson: Everyone else apart from the four of them are falling further and further behind…

Roger: *pant*, *pant*... haha, I knew you guys were the real deal.

Liam: *pant*... It does look like it. Only one of us can make it past this preliminary round.

Liam: Ahaha, I can’t afford to lose. 

Ring: As a proud member of Vogel, I can’t afford to lose either. 

Ellis: Huh? Look, there's something over there.

Event Official: We’ve set up several obstacles ahead! 

Liam: Don’t tell me, we have to struggle and crawl through that net? 

Roger: Damn, Victor’s always leaving out the important stuff.

Ellis: Hmm. Roger, I’ll be going first.

Roger: H-hey! Damn it, that guy’s crawling through the net so easily! 

Roger: My bulkier body is a disadvantage but… argh! 

Liam: HE TORE THROUGH THE ROPES!? 

Roger: No one said we had to crawl through properly now, did they? See ya! 

Ring: I must catch up… whoa! 

Ring: Tch, my right foot got caught in the net. Damn it…

Liam: Ring, don’t move. I’ll help you get it off! 

Ring: Liam Evans.

Ring: I’m your opponent… so, why? 

Liam: Because this is a fair competition, remember?

Ring: S-so sparkly…! 

Liam: Alright, it’s off. Now hurry! 

Ring: I owe you one! 

Event Official: The fastest four contestants with extraordinary physical abilities have cleared the net obstacle…! 

Roger: *pant*, *pant*... looks like Ellis’ taking the lead after all. 

Roger: He’s going to win by a landslide at this rate. When it comes to times like this— 

Roger: Ellis! You’re going the wrong way! 

Ellis: Huh?

Roger: Not that way, it’s the other way! The other way! 

Ellis: Thanks, Roger— wait, what?

Roger: Pfft, haha! Just kidding. See ya at the finishing line! 

Roger: Playing nice isn’t our style, you know?

Ellis: If you’re going to play it that way— ha!

Roger: What the!? 

Ellis: Got your glasses.

Roger: I can’t see! Ellis! Give them back, you idiot! 

Liam: What are those two even doing— whoa!? 

Liam: Don’t pull my shirt, Roger!

Roger: Huh!? Are you Liam? I can’t tell who’s who…! 

Ring: A falling out!? 

Ring: ~~!

Ring: S-sorry, sparkly pink. I’ll be overtaking you…! 

…

Event Official: The leading contestant has reached the final obstacle!

Ring: What’s with this box? 

Event Official: You have to take a piece of paper from the box and retrieve the item written on it. 

Ring: So the final challenge is a scavenger hunt. I’ll take a piece of paper and—

Ring: This theme…! 

Ring: P-pe-person…

Ring: “Person you like”!? 

Ring: No, it doesn't say anywhere that it has to be romantic, so any kind of deep affection is acceptable, right? 

Ring: Where's Nica— 

Event Official: The person must be a romantic interest! 

Ring: WHAT!? 

Ring: I don't know anything about romance, I… 

Kate: Ring! 

Ring: This voice… robin?

Kate: You can do it, Ring!

Ring: !!

Ring: … Ggh, my heart… is racing…

Ring: Don’t tell me, the “person I like” is— 

Kate: Riiiingg! 

Ring: Ugh! 

Liam: Ring, why’d you stop all of a sudd— 

Liam: Whoa, nosebleed! Ring, your nose is bleeding! 

Ring: …

Liam: Roger! Casualty! Ring’s having a nosebleed! 

Roger: Huh? Nosebleed? Let me have a look.

Ellis: Roger, this is Ellis.

Roger: That’s why I’ve been telling you to give my glasses back to me already! 

Liam: Whoa, it’s coming out of the other nostril too!

Ring: I… the robin… 

Kate: Victor, umm this is—

Victor: All of them are disqualified :D

[sschizoid]

would you be willing to do Tulpar crew getting sick headcanons 👀?

like, who’s popping zinc at the first signs of A Symptom, who burns themself into the ground ignoring it, who’s man flu about it, etc

anon !! gives u a big kiss i love this question sm

--

curly

has a pretty strong immune system and only gets sick about once a year, if even that. but when he does, he's not much different from a sickly victorian child withering away from consumption

he lives alone, so any attention he can't get from friends or family checking in on him he gets from social media. posts selfies of himself sick in bed and captions them on his story as "feelin like shit lol anyone else sick rn?" immediate 30+ likes in the first few minutes of being posted

all the while is absolutely downing those emergen-c immune booster supplements with coconut water for the electrolytes. he's trying to get over this cold as fast as humanly possible because honestly it sucks and is super inconvenient

jimmy

just has the worst immune system. gets absolutely sick as a dog— pallid skin, sunken eyes, the works. he's pretty used to it at this point and just expects himself to get sick 3-5 times a year at minimum

at the same time he'll go about his day as usual, now just twice as irritable. spreads his shit to everyone he meets because he refuses to stay home. what, he's just supposed to put his life on hold because of a little cough?

the most he'll do in terms of medicine is down 80mL of nyquil (way too much) before bed and hope for the best

anya

a complete mother hen when friends and family are sick, but the second she falls ill, her executive function is all over the place

stays home, but tries to keep herself busy anyway. uses the extra time to catch up on household chores, to rearrange some cabinets, or to catch up on some of her favorite shows

tries to eat healthy in the meantime, as she knows it'll make her feel better faster. but sometimes she just can't help herself and has to have either a pint of ice cream or a full bag of chips for dinner. she's allowed !!

swansea

the last thing he wants is to be fussed over. will insist he's fine to anyone that shows concern, but is still sure to take care of himself behind the scenes

is a hardcore vick's vaporub truther. the second he feels congested or has a tickle in his throat, he's slathering that shit on like its nobody's business. also he just really enjoys the smell of menthol

can sleep for days when sick, and honestly, he probably needs it. his wife thought he was dead once but it was just a combination of the cold and sleep apnea

daisuke

big believer in the whole "feed a cold, starve the flu" mentality. while he himself isn't the best cook, his mother makes sure to feed him lots of broth-based soups and high-fiber foods

he drinks a lot of tea with lemon and honey, usually making a pot at a time and just keeping it his bedside table for easy refills

big cough drop fan, specifically the ones that taste like cherry candy and nothing at all like actual medicine. this of course usually leads to him finishing the whole bag in one day, but it's just an excuse to buy more in other fun flavors

--

THIS WAS REALLY FUN tysm for your request! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

[miamooooo]

loser chris who wants to get with you soo bad. ever since you got paired in a study group together for the college class you both share, he hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of you! the only problem is that he's slightly inexperienced, awkward, and doesn't know how to tell you how he feels. one day you go to his dorm to grab some notes for an assignment, and what starts as a quick and casual visit, turns into something entirely different.

(warnings): lowercase intended, nsfw, reader has female anatomy, dry humping, chris ends up cumming in his pants, might be a lil ooc but fuck it we ball, kinda proofread, please don't read if any of this is triggering!!

chris sat at his desk, leaned back in a chair, his phone in hand while scrolling through yet another manga panel he found on a random website that definitely wasn't legal. his hair was covered by a hood, his hoodie slightly oversized for his lean body, and his glasses kept sliding down his nose. if josh, his frequently absent and scheming roommate, wasn't busy trying to get him to go out with him, then this was just a typical evening for chris. well, that, and trying not to think about you too much. he glanced at the time at the top of his phone screen; 7:05pm. you had said that you'd be over by seven to grab the notes he had promised you.

moments later, a knock at the door made chris jolt upright in his creaky seat, nearly dropping his phone at the action. his heart started pounding, realizing that it was mostly likely you, and he wastes no time in quickly getting up, pushing his hood down and smoothing out his hoodie before making his way over to open the door.

"hey" you said, smiling softly as you greeted him. you were wearing a simple sweater and jeans, but to chris, you looked fucking amazing. every detail about you stuck in his brain, he couldn't stop staring. "sorry i'm late. got caught up in something before getting here."

you took in chris's appearance, not realizing just how cute he really was until you saw him like this, so casual and unguarded. the way his glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, his hair messily displayed, it all felt oddly endearing. you had been somehow overlooking so many details about him...

"no, it's cool," chris replied, holding the door open for you and stepping aside to let you in. "i mean it's not like, you were super late. it was only what, five minutes..? so not late at all, really.." he winced internally at his small rant, wondering why he couldn't have just shut up. cool it man, they're just here for notes...

you stepped into the room, glancing around. it was messy, but not to the point where it was overwhelming, or extremely dirty. notebooks were stacked messily on his desk, a half empty bottle of soda next to his laptop, and a poster of some anime character he probably thought was cool stared down from the wall. "cool room," you said with a small laugh.

chris hadn't noticed how carefully you were taking in his room, his focus shifting between your movements and the quiet comments you made. his gaze lingered on you for a little too long, his eyes perversely shifting down to your curves as you moved, eyeing your backside, internally groaning as his mind started wandering to places it shouldn't have been. 'focus, man...' you turned around to face him again, pulling him out of his thoughts abruptly.

"yeah, uh- sorry about the mess. didn't exactly expect company tonight.." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

you dismissively wave off his comment. "it's totally fine, my room's way worse," you reassured with a soft laugh. a few seconds of silence passed between you two, before you started to remember why you were there. "so, the notes?"

"right!" he scurried over to his desk, fumbling through a pile of papers until he found the neatly written pages that he had prepared. "here ya go. i, uh, tried to make them clear. let me know if you need anything else."

you took the notes, quietly flipping through the pages. "wow, these are actually super good. thanks, chris.. i'd be screwed without you."

chris felt a small bit of pride at your words, though it was quickly replaced by the anxiety in his chest. you're standing right there. so close. in front of him. say something. do something.. but what? he wasn't exactly smooth with anyone he was interested in, no matter how much he tried to be. most of his conversations these days were just about something he found on the internet or characters from his favorite manga.

you lingered for a moment, not entirely sure if you wanted to leave just yet. glancing around the room to spark conversation again, you began to speak up, "so ... you must really be into this stuff?" you gestured toward the poster and stack of comics lined up on his shelf.

"uh- yeah," chris sheepishly admits hoping that you didn't think he was weird for it. "guess you could say it's kinda my thing — well, one of my things.. i've got layers, y'know... like a very nerdy onion."

when you laughed at chris's quip, his heart skipped a beat, surprised that his embarrassingly corny joke actually landed. "i like it," you said stepping closer to inspect the books. "i've read some of these too."

"oh yeah?" chris asked, voice cracking slightly as he tried his best to sound casual. deep down, his face was burning and his palms were starting to sweat. this was probably the longest conversation he'd ever had with you that wasn't about school. "which ones?"

"hm," you hummed to yourself, tilting your head before picking up a book with a gruesome cover. "this one. but it's been a while since i've read it. maybe you'll let me borrow it sometime..?"

borrow it? absofuckinlutely. chris nodded eagerly. "yeah..! totally! you can borrow anything you want.. anytime." he winced again at his overeagerness, but you only smiled at him, that same smile that made his heart do stupid little flips.

as you set the book back on the shelf, you turned back toward chris, giving him a soft and thankful touch down his arm, that you possibly, maybe knew would get him riled up. "you're really sweet, chris," your voice softer now, "not many people would take out this much time to do something like this for an old study partner."

the nonchalant act that chris was so desperately trying to keep up was crumbling down. the touch, the compliment? chris couldn't remember the last time someone had praised him like that. sure, his mom would call and tell him that he was doing great every now and again, but that didn't count. this was different. this was you. the person he'd been daydreaming about since the first day you got paired with him.

"it's nothing, really," he brushed off, his heart pounding so loudly that he was sure you could hear it. "i just, y'know, wanted to help. you deserve it." the words tumbled out before he could stop them, and he wish he hadn't kept talking so much.

your heart was practically swelling at chris's words. he seriously was the sweetest. while you were silently gushing over his thoughtfulness, you noticed a slight change in chris's demeanor. tilting your head and studying his expression, you prompt a question. "you okay..?" you asked, a teasing tone laced in your voice. "you seem kinda nervous."

"me? pfft, nah.." he said, laughing awkwardly and crossing his arm over the other. but the way he avoided your gaze told you otherwise.

you stepped a little closer, closing the gap between you two. "are you sure?" you asked playfully. "'cause you're acting totally different."

chris tried to brush it off, but his thoughts were spiraling. you were so close now, closer than he'd ever imagined you'd willingly get. and you smelled so good. he nodded with a tight-lipped smile, unsure of what to do or say. "i'm totally fine," he managed to calmly say.

"if you say so," you replied with a small laugh, leaning slightly closer. your eyes finally met his, and for a moment, he swore he saw you eyeing his lips. he wanted to do something. to compliment your face, or kiss you, but he thought it'd be creepy.

"you can sit if you want," he suddenly blurted out, gesturing toward his bed. "i mean, only if you're staying for a bit... not that you have to! but, y'know, if you want to..."

you laughed again, hoping that chris wouldn't take it the wrong way. "thanks," you said, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "i might, just for a little bit. it's nice to just hang out."

chris was so happy about your response, hoping that it didn't show on his face. you were on his bed. in his dorm. talking to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. well, it should've been, but chris was basically in love with you. he sat down in his chair, trying to seem casual, but his leg bounced nervously, a very telltale sign of his uneasiness that you quickly caught on to. "yeah, it's cool," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "hanging out is... cool."

as the minutes went by, the tension in the room grew. chris couldn't stop staring at you, his mind going to thoughts he knew he shouldn't have been having. every time you spoke, every little small habit you did that he picked up on, it sent his imagination to other places... he bit his lip, trying to actually focus on what you were talking about, but it was impossible when you sat there so pretty and so close to him.

and then, you finally stopped talking, your gaze locking with his. "chris," you said softly, but firm enough to pull him from his thoughts. "can i ask you something?"

he swallowed hard, quickly nodding. "y-yeah. anything."

"why do you act so nervous around me?" you asked, finally presenting the question that would hopefully break the tension in the room. though you felt like you already knew the answer, your heart started to beat faster in anticipation. maybe from nervousness, too. you wanted to hear him say what you were already suspecting. those lingering stares and the way he would stumble over his words weren't for no reason.

for a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parted slightly like he was trying to find something to say. his leg continued to bounce nervously as he let out a small sigh of defeat. "god, i'm so bad at this." he murmured, briefly lifting his glasses as he ran a hand over his face.

"at what?" you pressed gently, trying to show chris that you were attentively listening and weren't going to judge him.

he looked at you, contemplating if he really should say the truth. he thought of the worst possible outcomes. what if he confessed and you didn't feel the same way? or worse, you'd start avoiding him entirely. but the way you stared expectantly only made him want to confess, because if not at that moment, he'd probably never do it. you just made it easy for him.

chris exhaled sharply, finally conceding with a nod. "okay, i really like you. like a lot. i've kind of.. been waiting for the right moment to say it, but i don't think there ever is a right moment, so i'm just saying it now. sorry if it's weird or.. i dont know."

for a moment, the room fell completely silent. chris's face was so flushed, his eyes nervously searching your expression to find any signs of disgust or impending rejection. you could see how much effort it took for him to say those words, and the pure honesty and nervousness in his voice made your heart ache in the best way possible.

"chris, why would you think that's weird?" you questioned, shaking your head with a soft laugh.

"well- i don't know.." chris stammered, his face burning in embarrassment.

you started to feel bad for leaving chris hanging with his confession. but he looked so freaking adorable nervously fidgeting in his seat and mindlessly playing with the strings of his hoodie.

"i like you too, chris," you finally admitted. "i think i've liked you for a while, actually."

chris only blinked at you, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. "you're serious?"

"dead serious," you replied, and the room falls completely silent again.

you knew chris was too afraid to make the first move; the way he awkwardly fidgeted with his hoodie, his gaze occasionally flickering to your lips — that was enough to tell you. with a sigh, you placed the notes on the edge of the bed before standing up, taking a few steps closer until you're right in front of him. "can i kiss you now?"

chris looked up at you, nodding subtly, and that was all the permission you needed. you leaned down, your faces inches apart, until your lips pressed against his.

at first, chris was unsure of what to do, his hands hovering awkwardly between his lap and your sides. he was hesitating, obviously contemplating whether to place his hands on your hips, your waist, or maybe even your face, afraid of doing the wrong thing. he really didn't want to mess up.

sensing his hesitation, you reached down, gently guiding his hands to your hips. "it's okay," you murmured against his lips. your reassurance seemed to calm him, because soon after, his fingers were comfortably starting to dig into the fabric of your sweater as he pulled you down into his lap so that you were fully straddling him.

as the kiss deepened, chris's nervousness was still very evident, his lips moving sloppily and clumsily as he tried to keep up with you. he seriously didn't wanna screw this up. his hands gripped your hips tighter as you settle more firmly into his lap. the warmth of your body was so overwhelming, he couldn't believe that what was happening was real.

but then then something else happened.

he felt it. the tension building between his legs, one that he couldn't ignore, no matter how much he desperately tried to calm himself. he tried to shift slightly, hoping you wouldn't notice, but the friction only made it worse. he groans softly, and without thinking, his hips gave a subtle, but desperate push upward against you.

chris was mortified, his face flushing in complete embarrassment. "i-i'm sorry," he breathes out, pulling his head back slightly. his voice was so shameful, but even as he apologized, his body protested against his words. his hips pressed into you again, this time so much more urgent and messy and completely uncoordinated.

you didn't say anything at first, your eyes fixed on his desperate and flushed expression. his lips were parted, his breathing uneven, and his gaze was nervously avoiding yours. it seemed like he wanted to apologize again, but before he could even think about it, you were leaning in, pressing your lips against his jaw.

"chris, it's okay," you reassured him again, finally shifting in his lap, pressing down just enough to make another moan fall from his lips. his head tilted back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, as another shaky sigh escaped him. he looked so out of it already, so caught up in the moment that it was kinda flattering for you...

your hands found their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself as you rolled your hips over his. chris's entire body jerked beneath you, a strained whimper caught in his throat as his hands instinctively started to guide your movements.

your hips rocked against his with deliberate pressure, your own soft moans filling the room as your clit bumped against the hardness in his sweats. the chair creaked rhythmically beneath you both, his hips bucking up to meet yours with desperation and urgency.

he looked so fucking perfect under you, his fingers desperately digging into your hips, eyes slightly rolling as he silently urged you to go faster. it was so fucking sweet that you couldn't not answer to him.

the tip of his dick rubbed insistently against your clit through the fabric of your clothes, each movement of both of your hips grinding against each other's only made your moans grow louder.

chris's breathing grew heavier, his body shaking in anticipation. he was so overwhelmed, so needy and turned on. the moment he had been fantasizing about for months was finally happening and he couldn't hold himself together. he was so close and it was so embarrassing how fast it took for him to nearly cum in his pants. but you found it endearing, and it only spurred you on to move your hips with more purpose, matching the frantic movements of his own.

"oh fuck," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. he was panting heavily, groaning against your neck, small curse words slipping from his lips as his dick twitched in his sweats. he was gonna cum so hard, and for the first time that night, he didn't seem so shameful about it. he was so eager for it.

"are you close?" you whimpered in his ear, still dragging your hips against his lap, your pussy fluttering as you were also nearing your own release.

chris only let out a needy whimper, his hands boldly making their way from your hips to grab at your ass, starting to buck his hips up uncontrollably, desperate to reach his orgasm. his eyes were screwed shut, glasses sliding down his nose as he pushed his face further into your shoulder to suppress his noises, but it was of no use.

whatever noises he tried to keep to himself didn't last for long, because all it took was the sound of your breathless moans in his ear for him to let out a broken whimper of your name right before he's cumming violently in his sweats. he paints the inside of his sweatpants completely white, thick ropes of his hot cum shooting out of his needy tip and messily sticking to himself as he continues to grind up into you, riding out his orgasm.

your hips moved harder against chris's as you chased your own orgasm, his moans and whimpers filling your ears so prettily that you couldn't hold it in anymore. with a soft cry, your release washed over you, the slickness in your panties stuck uncomfortably to your folds as your body trembled and jerked softly against his.

the room was silent, the only sounds being the soft huffs and ragged breaths from you both as you came down from your high. chris's grip on your ass softened, his hands hesitantly moving back to your hips as he muttered to himself, his voice slightly cracking. "holy shit,"

if chris knew that his long time confession would end up like this, he would've told you how he felt way sooner.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Subby teary eyed jace got me GOINGGGGG

Could you write smt small about him being lightly spanked and taken care of after?

Brilliant idea anon. I had never actually considered spanking with him before because of how sensitive he is, but somehow I never considered light spanking? 😂 So thank you for bringing this up!!

NSFW sub!Jace below the cut. Nothing to explicit but there's spanking and implied sexual conduct on top of that. If you choose to venture below the cut, then I hope you enjoy :))

(For any newcomers or anyone who needs a refresher: we have a very much loved headcannon here that not only does Jace cum very easily but he also gets super super sensitive afterwards. Touching himself after he's cum is awful for him, especially on his own when he has to try and come down from the orgasm and clean himself up and then retire to an empty bed.)

This would be something that you didnt even consider with Jace at first. While the two of you had already agreed to try and come up with more things that can be done in the bedroom that wouldnt involve Jace cumming too quick and being too sensitive to do anything else, you hadn't thought to suggest spanking because you assume he'd be too sensitive for it. The moment Jace gets turned on he gets all teary eyed and squirmy, begging you to take him somewhere safe from onlookers and then stuttering his way through asking for help (even if you already know what he wants, you always make him say it just to see him try and fail to put a sentence together).

That's why I think this would be something that Jace himself would suggest to you. Of course this only happens once Jace finally understands that you love him and genuinely enjoy sex with him even though he can't do much after he's cum except cry and whine and ask for cuddles.

Maybe spanking is actually something Jace has always had a bit of a fantasy about? He had never told anyone about it until he told you, but imagining being spanked has been one of his biggest fantasies for most of his life. He never thought he'd ever try it, mostly because he never thought he'd find a partner that doesn't mind dealing with all his hangups.

He's shaking when he tells you, blushing all the way down to his chest and speaking so softly you can barely hear him. When you do finally understand what he's saying, you're genuinely confused and even a little concerned. It seemed like something that Jace would absolutely hate, and you even try to figure out who could have suggested this to him to try and establish if this is something he actually genuinely wants.

But is is. It's something he's never shared with anyone and he doesn't know why he finds it so hot but he does.

You make it clear to him that you would be honoured to try that with him, but only very lightly and only if he promises to use a safe word if it gets too much or he needs you to change something.

He expected he'd be a nervous wreck when the day finally came to try it out, but to his surprise he actually wasnt nervous at all. In fact he was almost... giddy? This was just something fun you two were trying. He knew there was no pressure, knew the spanking wouldnt be for a punishment and that you'd take care of him afterwards.

Of course he's absolutely perfect for you, following every instruction perfectly and trusting you to guide him without question. You start off slow, just taking your time with kissing him and slowly removing his clothes. You had debated leaving his undergarments on, but ultimately you decided not to because you didnt want his cock to press against the fabric and give him unwanted stimulation.

You end up giving him a giant pillow to hold against his chest as you bend him over your knee. He squeals at the first spank, but thanks you nevertheless.

Honestly you hardly even hit him, most of the spanks are so light that they can't do anymore than just sting a little. But good lord he love it so much. Not only because it's a fantasy of his, but also just because of the whole atmosphere? He didnt feel ashamed or scared or even unprepared. He was genuinely so happy and comfortable trying this out with you, knowing that if it failed he would be as well cared for as if it worked.

After that it becomes something you do occasionally. Often if you give Jace the option to choose what you do to him as a treat then he'll pick spanking.

Unlike with Aegon and Aemond, the spanking isnt done to make him suffer through a punishment after breaking a rule. You werent spanking him because he was bad, you were spanking him because he likes it and you like it and you're both having fun. Even

[analexthatdoesntexist]

this one is long, brace yourself, i got very invested in this prompt.

Agreeing with the other rebloggers, Swap would probably be the best fit for Sansta. Super enthusiastic, gets around quick, probably planned the entire operation BEFORE December because he was THAT prepared even if he didn't get picked. His brother asks what he's doing at 11 PM only to be told "TRAINING TO BECOME SANTA CLAUS" with 0 elaboration. Only downside is that Swap probably isn't the stealthiest or quietest. You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of him "sneaking" around and going "ho ho ho" because of how dedicated he is to playing the role, and then he bumps into a table because it's dark, and then he turns on a light because he forgets people are supposed to be asleep, and then he spends the next 5 minutes admiring the cookies you laid out for him because he finds them "so magnificently thoughtful" while also debating if he should eat the cookies or leave them because he's going to be given a lot of cookies and maybe it isn't a good idea to eat all of them but also is that rude to do...?

Christmas morning, you find stale tacos where your plate of cookies were. The glass of milk is literally missing. Sansta took your damn glass.

As for the WORST Sansta... It's gotta be Nightmare.

Imagine falling asleep on the couch by the Christmas tree only to be waken up with a wave of pure DREAD hitting you. Imagine watching pitch black, eldritch tentacles pour out of your chimney, your christmas tree decaying and the lights strung around it flickering out as an entity wearing a stained, deteriorating santa costume slithers into your house. Watch it slowly place down boxes with torn wrapping paper covered in a strange, black substance that seems to be eating away at the box as if your present is covered in acid, and then, then it looks over, realizing you're still awake and watching it.

You should have been asleep.

You WILL be going to sleep.

Nightmare, while not wanting to take on this stupid task originally, realized just how much potential and freedom he could exploit when working as the holly jolly fat man. If unaware of the wheel and who Sansta is, Sanses who are expecting a worry-free, cheerful night to wake up from to presents and a festive spirit will delightfully have their spirits CRUSHED when they realize this year's Sansta is giving them horrid nightmares, spoiling their milk, and drinking all of their leftover eggnog.

And if he sees you awake?

He'll make sure you won't tell anyone you saw him.

Prompt: Every year, Ink spins a giant wheel to pick out one Sans to be that year’s Sansta, who must then buy and deliver presents to everyone else. If the chosen Sansta refuses, they are turned into an ice statue until next year and the wheel is spun again.

- It can be any Sans (including Ink) as long as they celebrate Gyftmas and are aware of the multiverse

- They have a budget of $50 per Sans and the month of December to buy and deliver everything

- The presents must not cause direct harm to the recipient

- They must wear a comedically humiliating Sansta outfit at all times when delivering presents

Who do you think would be the best and worst? What chaos would arise? Funniest answers get drawn in a Sansta outfit.

[dramaticallytotal]

Simp-ly Love At First Sight

A very crack-y idea where Alejandro basically falls head over heels for Noah right away. And I am such a big fan of pathetic when in love Alejandro, so there will be plenty.

Alejandro: "His biting wit and lack of fashion sense has captivated me."

It does have elements from the plot twist idea like Alejandro orchestrating eliminations for Noah/Noah's benefit. Noah's kind of oblivious about it all. He genuinely thinks Alejandro is just a naturally flirty person, and yeah, he is, but he is trying so hard to get Noah to notice he is really flirting with him. I mean, he literally always gives Noah a kiss on the hand as a greeting or when the opportunity strikes.

Noah: "My new friend is really flirty with me....it must be his thing like Izzy being crazy."

Alejandro drawing hearts in his plotting notebook: "And once we're dating, we'll be the best power couple and dominate this game."

Alejandro is still a scheming and manipulative dude, but he uses it for Noah and himself. He still doesn't like Owen for his general Owenness but also because he's super jealous of how close he and Noah are.

London never happened like it did in Canon because Alejandro doesn't flirt as obviously as he does in canon. Noah knows he's manipulative, but he's pretty apathetic about it. I mean, if it helps to benefit the team, he won't complain, but he will if it means throwing a challenge like in Germany. He confronted Alejandro in the cargo hold. Got up in his face and everything, even pointed his finger harshly into his chiseled chest.

Alejandro: "His face is close to mine, and he's touching me! Best day ever!"

After that, he no longer tries to lose challenges because that's what his love wants. Everyone knows how whipped he is for Noah, except Noah, and they think it's hilarious. (Unless they are one of the people that got eliminated because of Alejandro.)

Heather gets out earlier in this mainly because Noah made a comment about Alejandro having an obvious crush on her, and her absolutely cannot have his darling think his eyes would ever be swayed from him.

The first time Alejandro heard and saw Noah take charge and scheme, he nearly dropped to a knee and proposed right then. He did actually propose during the wedding challenge since Chris thought Alejandro being pathetic was ratings gold and made sure he and Noah were paired together for the challenge. Complete with Noah being in a weirdly fitting wedding dress that Chef definitely did not help pick out because he thought it would fit Noah and help make Alejandro more pathetic. That was actually when Noah realized Alejandro liked him, and well, maybe he had a small crush on him in return.

Them winning immunity was the cherry on top for Alejandro. It was basically a honeymoon since he confessed, and Noah confessed in return they had shared a kiss or two....or more. They ate their cake, and Alejandro even managed to feed Noah a bit, which had made him giddy. Much to Alejandro's delight, they do become a really good power couple. Dominating challenges, making alliances, and voting out those who stand in their way, and all the while being disgustingly cute the entire way.

Everyone is so done with them, but Chris and Chef are basically that one HTTYD meme of Hiccup giving Toothless a supportive thumbs up.

Not so surprisingly, it ends up with them as the final two, and everyone expected them to be all cute and hardly compete, but are surprised when they are vicious yet flirting. Noah likes being challenged, and when he's challenged, he's like a whole different person. He becomes determined and competitive, and Alejandro is swooning. Alejandro ends up losing, but that's okay because his darling won and was happy.

Though he was scared that his parents would be disappointed in him but surprise surprise, when José went to tease Alejandro about being so pathetic, their mother just hugged Alejandro and laughed. Apparently, their father had been the same way with their mother when they first met, and she thought it was positively adorable that Alejandro took after his father in this. It was the closest Alejandro had ever felt to his dad, and his dad had even laughed with him about how deep Burromuerto men fell for their loved ones. Somehow, meeting and dating Noah helped his father see past his shortcomings in comparison to José.

Alejandro proposed once more.

José was more than shocked when Noah basically became the favorite son, Carlos just laughed. Alejandro's parents absolutely adored his boyfriend. His mother loved how family oriented he was, and his father appreciated how smart Noah was. Plus, being a millionaire was a big plus, too.

[cherry-bomb-00]

The demon brothers react to Latin Mc, who makes they tradition of "Las novenas"

The Christmas special is a bit late, but it's still December, and since I'm Latina (Colombian specifically), in my country it's common to do the novenas, which are a nine-day period of prayer to ask for favors, obtain graces or prepare a big party, normally it's for the Nativity scene, yes, it's something religious (I'm Catholic), so in this case, it's done every Christmas and it's done for nine days (16 to 24).

So I had the great idea that the brothers would react to this spiritual ritual. I clarify that I don't know if it's done in other countries, but if they do, they'll understand the subject better, so with everything explained, let's begin!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had to return to the human world, you couldn't miss the novenas with your family, so you explained to the boys, what you didn't expect was that they would decide to go with you to attend the novena, you hesitated to accept since you told them it was something religious, but they still insisted and well now you are at the house of one of your aunts with your whole family to start the novenas.

Lucifer

Lucifer was already aware of the religious nature of this meeting, although he thought he was going to do something super serious, he was surprised by how happy your family was, playing Christmas carols while singing with tambourines, the decorations were Christmas and obviously there was the Nativity scene which was the main focus. It was a little uncomfortable for him but he enjoyed the joyful atmosphere and seeing you so happy made it all worth it.

When the novena started, he was silent the whole time, but for some reason when he heard your prayers, when you read The Joys, when you sang with devotion and shook the tambourine with the rhythm of the song, he couldn't help but feel a little infected by your joy, besides you looked very pretty like that and you caught him murmuring parts of the prayers, you even made him read some of The Joys.

At the end of the novena there was food, music and small raffles. He enjoyed the food, the joy and seeing your family together, it reminded him of his brothers. In the end he had a pretty good time and he wouldn't mind joining you from time to time…

Mammon

He was expecting some serious ceremony or something like that, but he was surprised when he saw that it was really more of a reunion. He got along very well with your family, and he enjoyed the warm atmosphere with the Christmas carols.

When the novena started, he wasn't as quiet as his brother, he sometimes murmurs his prayers, but he did like to sing and read The Joys. Although he can't help but look at your smile and happiness when you sing or your face of concentration when you pray, how dare you look as cute?

In the end he tried some of the Christmas foods and when there were raffles, he was the first to participate, that is, he wants you to see that the great Mammon can win things for you. Surprisingly, he did win something, although it was a cheap digital watch, he still enjoyed his gift and also spending time with you.

Leviathan

In Levi's case he was very nervous, and more so because he was going to meet your family and he was going to be in a place far from his room, but he took the courage just to spend time with you and get to know more about you through this tradition. So when he saw the decorated place and the music, it made him a little anxious to see so many people but having you by his side he seems calmer and even enjoys the happy atmosphere, although this celebration may be a little normie… he doesn't mind doing it if it makes you happy.

When the novena began, he was very shy and kept quiet because of his nerves, and he got more nervous when they made him read one of The Joys, it was a little difficult for him and even more so if it was for your entire family, it seemed as if he lost the ability to read, even so, you were there and helped him calm his nerves. The good thing is that your family was patient and didn't say anything bad to him, they were very warm with him, so he felt safer. At mealtime, he enjoyed eating with you, and he doesn't want to admit it but he liked "La natilla" (a typical Christmas dish very common in Colombia).

Satan

He had some knowledge of the novenas, he is a bookworm, he reads about many things, and knowing that you have these traditions made him more curious to experience it for himself even though he was aware of the religious connotations.

Arriving at the place that would be the house of one of your aunts, he observed the surroundings, the decorations, the very large Nativity scene, he was surprised by the dedication to make it pretty, the Christmas carols, and how your family was so friendly and cheerful, you guided him and explained a little more in depth about the novenas and he really asked you a lot of questions. At the beginning of the novena, he listened but did not say much… although sometimes he repeated part of the prayers in whispers when he heard you say them, otherwise he liked to observe how this whole ceremony developed.

In the end, he was satisfied by learning more about you and your human culture, as well as trying new food and talking to your other relatives. He liked listening to the stories that the elders had, so he really had a great time.

Asmodeus

He was delighted to accompany you, obviously he looked for the perfect clothes to go there, he really dressed up to look spectacular because, I mean, his beauty must shine like those Christmas lights, besides he was excited to meet your family and wanted to look very presentable.

When he arrived he loved the decoration, the place looked so nice and elegant, besides he quickly got along well with your family and more with your aunts and mom, they talk about things in common. Once the novena started, he sometimes forgets that it is a religious tradition, even so, he participated, reading some joy and he didn't mind singing Christmas carols with you, it was fun for him.

When the main event ended he continued talking with your relatives, sometimes eating and trying the Christmas food, besides taking many photos with you and the decorations, he wants to keep this memory with you forever.

Beelzebub

Beel was very happy to attend the novena with your family, not only because you mentioned that there would be food, but also to spend time with you and meet your family. It's obvious that Beel is a very family-oriented person, he wants to protect his brothers, so meeting your family also gives him that feeling of protecting them.

When the novena began, he liked to hear your soft voice when you prayed, he smiled when he saw your family together and well, he also joined in reading and singing with you, he liked to use the tambourine so you left it with him for the rest of the novena. We must not forget that he enjoyed the atmosphere and ate a lot, too much, he enjoyed each dish with a smile and he also kept or brought you food, and you also caught him playing with your little cousins, the scene of how your little cousins ​​hang on Beel's strong arms while he smiles is funny, it was really worth it for him to spend Christmas like that.

Belphegor

Even though he still has that little itch of not liking humans (you being the exception) even so, he can't lie to you, he liked the atmosphere of your family, so warm and happy, it reminded him of his own brothers, so he felt comfortable to be honest, although he was a little sleepy since the novenas happen at night but he tried not to fall asleep.

While the novena was going on, he listened in silence as the novena was developing, he didn't participate too much since he fell asleep at times, he really did his best not to fall asleep, although when they went to the joys he didn't sleep as much since it was a happier part and when they sang between each joy he also played along. Even so, at the end of the novena, although he ate and everything, he fell asleep on two chairs while your family celebrated, it was fun and adorable at the same time, you stayed by his side for the rest of the meeting.

Here it ends, I could do the version but with the rest of the guys, although it may be a little late, anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and had a great Christmas!

[egophiliac]

LEON

LEON YOUR EYEBALLS

[vermillyons]

you find it difficult to feel threatened by him, having faced and escaped more dire situations in your past as a cadet. besides, it’s rather rare for your potential cause of death to be so visually appealing.

as the tumblrinas once said, “if evil why hot”.

Crocodile taps his hook against the surface of his mahogany desk, his heavy-lidded eyes peering sharply at you as he awaits your response.

i thought this was a cool bit! the way you incorporate his hook into his body language.

my eyebrows shot up when i saw reader’s powers in action. it’s such a creative and cool power! also it’d probably be useful for wringing out wet laundry lol.

im getting the impression that reader is a jaded marine who initially joined for idealistic reasons (maybe something like “i want to protect my home”) but became disappointed with the reality of it. so they’re very blunt about things mainly because they’re just tired. ofc crocodile finds that endearing lol.

as expected, you’re affected by the sea prism stone–he can tell from the droopiness of your eyelids and the way you furrow your eyebrows.

ooh i love small details like this. you don’t really see stuff like that in the manga, only a super exagerrated version of it. i feel like it’s a fun way to adapt the effects of sea prism stone into fic writing.

as much as he wants to pretend he doesn’t know why your survival makes him feel so relieved, he’s too smart to be fooled even by himself.

heehee he likessss them 🥰

im curious what kind of concessions and compromises reader made that eventually had the WG trying to assassinate them. those were probably the kinds of decisions that made reader internally go, “oh shit.” bc they realize how deep they are in with crocodile.

he reaches out to grab your clammy hand, engulfing it with his much larger one; with an uncharacteristic gentleness, the Warlord brings it up to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “not Baroque Works, join me. stay by my side.”

crocodile specifying he wants them to join him not baroque works. ok, so what if i swooned little?!

ngl it'd be extremely funny if reader didn't get the message and just assumed he meant it platonically 😂

the warlord and his bodyguard (crocodile x reader)

req: Could you do a Mihawk or Crocodile x Marine reader. Like it's her job to watch them on missions or be in contact with the Warlords. And whoever you pick fell hard for the Marine but knows he shouldn't. Maybe he flirts with her and she tries to remain professional because she could get fired or way worse. But the man is determined

a/n: aaaa!! this was one of my earliest requests but i held off on writing it since i wasn’t sure if i wanted to write for Mihawk or Crocodile :’) luckily since then i’ve got to meet Crocodile again in the impel down arc so i feel a bit more comfortable trying to write for him :D i tweaked the plot a little to fit the ideas i had so i hope the requester doesn’t mind!

contents: reader is a not a good marine (lol), Crocodile is kinda down bad, pining, reader has devil fruit powers, a somewhat graphic depiction of violence, near-death experience (not violent), some fluff, very little angst

wc. 2.3k

wanna be on my taglist?

i. 

“tell me,” the imposing figure says, his voice so deep you swear the ground beneath your feet trembles ever so slightly. “did the World Government send you to mock me?”

Crocodile taps his hook against the surface of his mahogany desk, his heavy-lidded eyes peering sharply at you as he awaits your response. though he may be one of the Seven Warlords, you find it difficult to feel threatened by him, having faced and escaped more dire situations in your past as a cadet. besides, it’s rather rare for your potential cause of death to be so visually appealing.

“i should say no but both of us know that isn’t truly the case.” your response seems to have caught him off guard, his eyes widening ever so slightly. to your surprise, Crocodile follows it up with a smirk, all the while keeping his lit cigar held firmly in between his teeth.

“so what is the reason you’re supposed to tell me?”

as though reciting a script, you share how out of the goodness of the World Government’s hearts, they’ve decided to begin a new initiative to improve relations between the Warlords and the Marines. “thus, every Warlord will be provided with a bodyguard.” you’re unable to hold back the contempt in your tone and Crocodile picks up on it instantly.

“think you’re too good for the job, officer?” he replies in a disinterested manner.

“no, the job’s fine,” you admit, seeing no reason to be dishonest, “i just think they could’ve at least tried to come up with a better lie. i am glad i was assigned to you, though, and not Gecko Moria or Donquixote.” you can’t help but scoff.

the Warlord’s laugh catches you off guard. the fact that the sound alone causes a stirring in your chest alarms you even more.

what an interesting woman you are.

“so what will it take to keep your mouth shut?” Crocodile gets straight to the point, already fully aware of how your daily duties include a report back to headquarters on his activity. in all honesty, he’d meant it partially as a joke or, perhaps, a final attempt at sending you a message: you’re no threat to me.

“i don’t know,” you reply, taking a few steps to get closer to his desk before you lean forward slightly to level your eyes with his, “what’re you willing to offer?”

the Warlord can’t tell if you’re joking–and he’s not sure how he feels about that.

ii.

two months go by and business at Rain Dinners has been the same as always.

contrary to Crocodile’s expectations, your sudden arrival hasn’t impeded his progress on the casino and Baroque Works. his initial concerns over an influx in Marine officers storming Rain Dinners or a Vice Admiral showing up to tear down his secret organisation quickly go unfounded when it dawns on him that you’re truly not interested in taking him down.

if anything, he’s been enjoying your company. you’re an intelligent person whom he’s surprisingly able to have pleasant conversations with. you seem to have a keen sense of perception, knowing when to simply watch events unfold and when to interfere–though the latter instances have been rare considering his status in Alabasta deters trouble-making in his place of business. 

after the first few weeks of having you trail behind him everywhere he goes, Crocodile finds himself getting used to being in your company. today, however, marks the first time the Warlord feels a need for something more.

though the Warlord is surrounded by beautiful women all vying for a crumb of his attention–a common occurrence when he makes his occasional appearance at his own casino’s bar–he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if you’re the one sitting beside him instead. not the kind of man to let his imagination run wild, however, he quickly reminds himself that you’re standing a distance away behind him as you always do.

before Crocodile can fully return to enjoying his evening in the presence of the women around him, though, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a familiar sense of danger snaps his attention to the lady on his right side. within the span of a second, he readies himself to activate his devil fruit powers but before he can even fully register what she’s trying to pull, you make your move.

recognising the stained needle held in between the woman’s fingers as being composed of sea prism stone, your body reacts on its own volition.

“shave.” 

to nearby onlookers, a blurry figure shoots its way across the room before you reemerge right behind the wannabe-assassin. without any warning, you place your right palm against the back of her head.

“twist.”

with a sickening crunch that reverberates throughout the once bustling casino, the woman’s body from her neck downward begins to turn a full 360 degrees whilst her head remains completely still in the palm of your hand. as her corpse flops to the ground, you hear the combined sounds of onlookers retching and gasping–but no running. the only one seemingly completely unbothered by the cold blooded murder is the assassination target himself.

“i could’ve handled it myself,” Crocodile sighs, puffing a cloud of smoke from his cigar, “though admittedly i am impressed by your efficiency.”

“were you aware the needle was made of sea prism stone?” your question catches him off guard; and he’s only further surprised when you bend down to pick it up from the floor with your bare hand.

“poisoned? i figured,” he admits, “but made of the stone? truth be told i was not aware.” the Warlord’s eyes travel slowly from the tiny needle held in between your fingers up to your face. as expected, you’re affected by the sea prism stone–he can tell from the droopiness of your eyelids and the way you furrow your eyebrows. “i could kill you right now,” Crocodile adds, unable to help his curiosity in what your response might be to such a suggestion.

“feel free,” you reply, a tired smile appearing on your tired face.

“don’t be ridiculous.” he shoots a glance at a random employee and gestures to the corpse. once it’s been taken away, he nods at the now-available seat. “take a seat, drink with me… and throw the needle away.”

iii.

three weeks later, you come storming into Crocodile’s office unannounced. normally he doesn’t tolerate such behaviour–the guest he’d been hosting even flinches outwardly, as though steeling himself to witness your impending death–but once the Warlord’s eyes lay on you, all anger flies out the window.

“why’d you do it?” you ask, clutching a crumpled letter in your hand as you make your way to his desk. with a wave of his hand, he dismisses his guest and remains silent and still until the two of you are left alone in the large room.

now that he’d had some time to take a closer look at you, the expression on your face screams less anger and more confusion–contrary to the way you’d nearly kicked down his door to get in. eyes flickering to the letter in your hand, the familiar material of the paper reminds him of a particular event that happened just a week ago.

“something troubling you, Miss Bodyguard?” the Warlord asked while in the midst of handling a mountain of paperwork.

“my village is in danger,” you’d replied without hesitation, not seeing any need to hide the truth from him–it was a trait he very much appreciated in you. “we used to always get harassed by pirates but lately it’s gotten worse and the berry i send home isn’t enough to keep them away anymore.”

a part of him expected you to drop a subtle plea for help but you never did. once you’d answered his question, you went back to being silent, eyes trained on the crumpled piece of paper held in your trembling hands.

“what’s the name of your village? and on what island?”

“remind me what you’re accusing me of?” Crocodile replies in his usual monotonous tone.

“you sent people to my village,” you say almost breathlessly, unable to help the tears welling up in your eyes as your heart pounds within the confines of your chest. “you’ve been protecting them, haven’t you?”

“yes.” 

“why?”

i hated seeing you worry.

“you wouldn’t be a very efficient bodyguard if you’re constantly thinking about your home, would you?”

for a long while, you simply stare at him in silence, your widened eyes glued to his deep-set ones. your gaze is so intense it’s almost as though you’re trying to peer straight into his soul; for a split second, the Warlord wonders if you’ve perhaps passed out while standing up with your eyes open.

“thank you,” you say softly with a smile on your face–the mere sight of which sends what the Warlord thought had been dead and cold in his chest into overdrive. for the first time in years, his heart races not from anger or adrenaline but from something else he’d long forgotten the feeling of.

iv.

four days pass by and Crocodile once again feels a strange sensation in his chest but this time it’s from worry.

within the course of an evening, you’d gone from perfectly healthy to deathly ill. first you’d collapsed after dinner–nearly hitting your head on the cold tiled floor had he not been fast enough to catch you–before a dangerously high fever started to set in. without hesitation, as he carried you to your quarters, the Warlord demanded for the best of Alabasta’s doctors and nurses to make their way over immediately.

now as the moon hangs high in the desert sky, its light shining through your windows just enough to illuminate your room barely, you find yourself accompanied by the Warlord himself. sitting quietly in a chair set beside your bed, you watch him as he reads a folder full of documents, using only the moonlight casting in as his source of light.

you feel terribly hot and extremely cold at the same time as you lay under the weight of your comforter, a wet towel resting on your forehead. your throat feels dry no matter how much water you drink so you’ve long since stopped asking for more–now only drinking when he periodically offers a glass to you.

in your fevered haze, you faintly recall some instances after you’d collapsed: the feeling of strong arms carrying you away, holding you close to a warm chest; the anger in a familiar voice it barked orders at others; the feeling of a large hand caressing your cheek as you laid barely awake.

“she will be okay, thankfully we made it in time to pump all the poison out of her system,” the leading doctor shared with Crocodile outside your bedroom door after a grueling few hours of medical care.

“poison?” the Warlord furrowed his eyebrows.

“yes, Sir Crocodile, we found a large trace of various poisonous substances in her stomach. frankly, she’s lucky to be alive.”

“is my face really that amusing to stare at?” he asks in a tone that lacks any bite as he directs his attention to you.

“you are quite handsome,” you admit with a weak smile. he feels his face warm up and hopes it at least doesn’t show on his skin. “you frown too much, though.”

“oh, really?”

“yeah. especially tonight.” you slowly take in a deep breath only to start coughing uncontrollably when the air gets lodged in your throat. Crocodile responds quickly but without haste, handing you a fresh glass of water as you sit yourself up. you drink it all before continuing to speak. “you’ve been frowning in a sort of angry way ever since the doctors left… what’s wrong?”

the Warlord takes a moment to look at you. there’s a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin and the bags under your eyes look the darkest they’ve ever been since he met you, frankly you look terrible but at least you’re alive. as much as he wants to pretend he doesn’t know why your survival makes him feel so relieved, he’s too smart to be fooled even by himself.

“you nearly died from an assassination attempt.” Crocodile hands you the folder he’d been pouring over while you rested. “i sent my best agents to investigate after the doctors told me you’d been poisoned.”

although your eyes burn with exhaustion, you managed to scan through all the documents with ease. you feel your already-weakened heart twist in a bizarre mixture of sadness, indignation and resignation as you learned the truth of your near-death experience.

“the World Government must’ve thought i was quite the threat to send Cipher Pol 8 after me, huh?” you say, laughing half-heartedly as you hand the folder back to Crocodile. “i guess i must’ve defected without realising.” you speak with an air of nonchalance that piques the man’s interest.

“knowing the World Government, you’ll probably have a bounty on your head once they realise you lived.” 

“i know,” you sigh, “the smart thing to do would be to leave Alabasta once i’m all better, don’t you think? i will miss keeping an eye on you, though.” the way you’re looking at him as you wait for his response is strangely playful and he feels the initial pang of disappointment morph instead into a tiny bit of hope. 

“join me,” Crocodile says exactly what he knows you want to hear. “i happen to have grown quite fond of being watched by you.” you smile widely and it sends his heart into a fit.

“join Baroque Works?”

“no.” he reaches out to grab your clammy hand, engulfing it with his much larger one; with an uncharacteristic gentleness, the Warlord brings it up to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “not Baroque Works, join me. stay by my side.”

“i’d like nothing more.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost

[fatedroses]

Two former military elites taking merc jobs perform absolutely hellish battle tactics together.

[skruttet]

more pics of the moomin nendoroid

[evilkitten3]

i have a theory about shinji, gin, and aizen, but i'm not really sure how to word it.

we never really see shinji and gin interact all that much, which makes sense bc both of them have significantly more important relationships with aizen, but at the same time it's a little odd how much there isn't.

like. gin cut hiyori in half. shinji is understandably pissed about that, but he aims that anger at aizen - and this seems to be one of the very few things in the bleach world that honestly isn't on him bc he never told gin to do that, he never even implied it. hiyori was never a threat to him. hell, we don't even know if she was charging in the right direction; if anything, attacking her implies that she was which is a really stupid thing to do when you're surrounded by a bunch of people who super want you dead and would kill you if they could be sure you weren't tricking them into stabbing each other (ofc it could also be a fakeout but still)

but i don't remember shinji's beef ever really being with gin, even tho he didn't seem to anticipate that gin was working with aizen the whole time during tbtp. so like does he feel responsibility there? cuz gin went straight from academy to 3rd seat and shinji could plausibly feel like that sent him right to aizen bc he doesn't know that gin was always aiming for that. did he blame himself? does he feel like he should've seen it coming? does he still see him as some weird genius kid? does he just view gin as an extension of aizen, which is both dehumanizing to an extent but also entirely fair bc gin did that to himself?

the thing is, since we never really see them interact much, it's kind of only interesting on shinji's side of things, bc gin doesn't really care about much outside of whatever the fuck he thought he was doing and the version of rangiku that he has in his head who needs back something that the real one doesn't ever seem to have realized she lost to begin with. gin's so disconnected with basically everybody that most of the time you can usually assume his thoughts are just "lol. lmao" and there's no reason to think that doesn't extend to shinji as well (gin has deep thoughts on: aizen, ichigo, and matsumoto (massive asterisk on that one ofc) and i think everyone else is kinda set dressing to him lmao the guy is Fucked Up)

anyway i think it's interesting to toy around with that relationship as it was in reality as well as how it might've been perceived, but also in the sense of both of them being sort of opposite ends of the manchild spectrum - shinji leans into his childish side but still has a fairly adult worldview, and gin is able to pull off maturity to an extent but was never able to escape a deeply childish mindset

[pigeonstab]

(One more silly werewolf doodle before I go to bed)

Poor Dust didn't stand a chance, how long do you think it took Horror to learn his strength and stop destroying everything in the vampire house? lol

(Also in case you're going to bed around now too goodniiiight!!)

(Unless you see this in the morning in which case good moooorning!!)

WAAAAAA cutiesss, Horror just fucking clocked him holy shit T T, this is so cool thank u sm!!

I think.. College au Horror is very controlled. He knows his strength, maybe there was a small adjusting period when he started living with vamps instead of a pack of wolves similar in strength.

He's very teasing though, so probably lots of 'oh no gravity is increasing on me' bullshit lol.

[energeticpoltergeist]

FE Secret Santa (6/10)

Castor for @prince-silver-lining

edit: forgot to at @feshippingpolls

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle