#sweet pea imaging

[springtyme]

hii!! i saw ur inbox open and was wondering if i could request this; so, imagine dad!simon (or konig idm!!) having his son / daughter see his face for the first time since they were born and theyre just kinda sitting there like :000?? hes so pretty?? while yn is just screaming in the back?? <33 have a great day n thnaks for reading x

𝐔��𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, I had such a good time writing this! I love writing dad!Simon so much! ♡ but also, ngl, the image of this big bloke wearing a mask in front of his baby seems borderline comical to me.

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Your daughter finally sees her father's face for the first time.

word count: 2.2k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom, you slowly begin stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you slowly settle into wakefulness, you hear the screeching sound of the baby monitor on your nightstand coming to life and you feel how your heart flutters happily in your chest as a familiar sound comes through. The sweet sound of your daughter’s happy coos, accompanied by Simon’s deep, gentle voice, fill the room with sweetness. 

“Morning, sweet pea,” Simon’s voice crackles through the monitor followed by the sound of your baby happily gurgling at her father and then exclaiming a little more whiny sound. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re hungry, but we have to get you changed before we can make breakfast, lovie.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you lie there, basking in the warmth and comfort of your bed. The love and joy that echo through the monitor remind you of just how much love fills your home. It’s moments like these that make your heart swell with an indescribable sense of happiness.

Your mind wanders, and you find yourself reminiscing about the journey that brought you here. 

From the moment you and Simon first met, there was an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited and grew into a love that was both fierce and tender. However, it hadn’t been that easy to convince him that he in fact was deserving of such love. He had been scared that he would mess it up, mess you up, convinced himself that he wasn’t able to make anyone happy and that he was broken beyond repair. But you had been rather insisting, and he had finally let his walls crumble and let you into his heart. 

And as you had expected, all his worries had been unfounded. He is the best, most loving partner you could ever have dreamt of. 

The love you share with him is a love that feels like home.

And then, the arrival of your daughter added a new dimension to your love story. From the first time you had held her tiny hand, you knew that your family was complete. Watching Simon transform into the most loving and doting father has only deepened your admiration and affection for him.

And as you lie here,  reminiscing on your life, you can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the love that surrounds you. 

With a content sigh, you finally pull yourself out of bed, ready to start the weekend with your little family. 

As you make your way down the stairs you can hear the sound of your daughter’s laughter from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth and you can’t help but smile and make your way towards the source of the joyful commotion. As you enter the room, the morning sun gently illuminates the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room, and you are greeted by a heartwarming sight. Simon is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of millet porridge, your daughter’s favourite, while she is sitting in her highchair, which has been moved away from the kitchen table and closer to the counter, so she can see what Simon is doing, clapping her hands in delight.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the comforting scent of the porridge. You can’t help but feel a surge of immense love and gratitude for the man who stands before you, effortlessly balancing the roles of partner and father.

Simon turns towards you. “Good morning, love,” he greets you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, the bottom half of his face covered by a black mask. He had started to wear it around the house again after your daughter had been born.  

“Good morning,” you reply, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and adoration. “I see you two are having quite the breakfast party.”

Simon laughs softly and nods. “We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed, but it seems that someone couldn’t wait,” he says, glancing at your daughter, who just giggles in response.

You walk over to them, planting a soft kiss on Simon’s masked cheek before planting another on your daughter’s, much chubbier, one. “Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed. This is the best way to wake up,” you say, gazing at your little family with a heart full of love.

Together you finish cooking breakfast, porridge for the baby and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for you and Simon.

You begin to set the table as Simon picks up your daughter, supporting her with one arm as he settles her on his hip, so he can move her chair back to the table, but before he can grab the chair he stops dead in his tracks.

Your little girl has grabbed a fistful of his mask in her tiny hand. She doesn’t seem to be pulling on it, or otherwise trying to take it off him, but she also doesn’t seem to want to let go of it when Simon gently takes her hand to get her to release her grip.  

“Sweetheart, please…” Simon says softly, but he trails off, a wave of emotions flickering over his eyes, but they end up having a sort of determinant look to them as they lock with his daughter’s.

You feel how your heart skips a beat as Simon lets go of her little hand to instead grip the place his mask is fastened.  

With a deep breath, Simon removes the mask, revealing his face to your daughter for the very first time in her young life. You feel goosebumps rise along your arms as Simon’s features come to light. The room falls silent, and time seems to stand still.

Your daughter’s gaze is fixed on Simon, you can see a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her little face. 

It’s a pivotal moment that holds the power to change everything. You can see how Simon, too, feels a mix of emotions coursing through him. 

He has once mentioned to you that he was afraid that his scars would scare her, but you have had a suspicion that something else might be the reason he has kept the mask on in front of her for. 

He does have a few scars from his work, but they are nowhere near severe enough to scare anyone. You do have another theory to why he has kept it on, one he hasn’t directly confirmed, but a conversation from your pregnancy has stuck with you. 

He had voiced his concern that something would happen to him on the battlefield. not because he was that concerned for his own wellbeing, he knew what the risks of his job was, but because he was afraid of something happening to him, leaving you and your little one alone in the world. He had, on the whole, had many worries about becoming a father. 

He had been worried that his past had broken him so severely that he couldn’t be the dad your daughter needed him to be. Like the fear he also had about you and your relationship in the beginning of it, the fear that he couldn’t be the man you deserved. 

He has, in all the time you’ve known him, done everything to disprove that concern, he is the best partner you could ask for and now the most lovable dad to your little girl, but you know that he still has his concerns and that his feelings about them are valid. 

You think the mask has served as a sort of safety blanket for him. Like he thought that it would be easier for you and your daughter to lose him if your little girl couldn’t remember his face, or something like that. You find that thought heart rending.               

You know that his job comes with a risk, you had known it when you got together and you had known it when you married him and you had known it when you got your daughter. Losing him on the battlefield would be your worst nightmare come true. You know that he is smart, strong and capable, but you also know that there are no guarantees in war, which, to you, is just all the more reason for  your daughter to know her father’s face, but you have let Simon choose for himself when he was ready for that.  

But you don’t want to think about any of that right now, so you push those thoughts away, and instead let yourself be completely mesmerised by the sight before you   

Your little girl focuses on his, now revealed, face, taking in every detail. Her eyes widening in surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of fear, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she absorbs every detail of her father’s face. 

“It’s just me, princess,” Simon tells her, his voice filled with a mix of amusement, nerves and an overwhelming love for his little girl. His eyes, once guarded, now shine with warmth and affection. 

The confirmation of his voice is what convinces her. A wide smile spread across her little face, revealing the adorable dimples she has inherited from Simon, on her sweet, chubby cheeks. She lets out a happy squeal, as she realises that it really is her father who’s now smiling down at her, a set of dimples matching hers on his cheeks.    

She giggles happily, which, to you, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Her little hands starting to explore Simon’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the lines and contours of it. It’s a gentle and tender gesture that speaks volumes. You watch in awe as the beautiful moment between your daughter and her father unfolds in front of you. It’s a moment you will cherish forever. 

When she finally seems satisfied with her mapping of his face with her small hand, she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face, one that conveys something along the lines of ‘you seeing this too?’ Her eyes lighting up, reflecting the genuine joy that fills her little heart.

“Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy,” you smile at her, and she lets out another happy shriek before looking back at Simon again, happily nuzzling her little face into his neck. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You continue as you step forward, placing a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles over the dusty rose bodystocking that she is wearing, one that Simon picked out when he got her ready and you still laid in bed.   

You look up at Simon, a soft smile on his lips as your eyes lock. 

“He never wants to believe me when I tell him, but he is actually the most handsome man I know,” you say, with a playful glint in your eyes. “He’s probably the most handsome man in the whole world, actually.”           

Simon chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Oh, come on now,” he replies, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.“I think you might be a bit biassed there, love.”

You shake your head, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Nah, I don’t think I am,” you state, wrapping your arms around both Simon and your little girl in his arms. “Just stating facts. I actually got the most handsome husband and the most beautiful daughter in the whole wide world.” you say with a content sigh, hugging your little family tightly.  

It’s a hug that speaks volumes, conveying love, affection and acceptance. In this embrace, you know that you truly have the most beautiful family in the world.  

As you finally let go of them you place a sweet kiss on your daughter’s little nose. She giggles joyfully, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness over what a happy little girl you have. Simon seems to be thinking the same as he smiles down at her.  

But your adorable little troublemaker doesn’t seem to be done with causing havoc yet.   

She reaches out her tiny hand and grabs for the mask again. Simon hesitates for a moment, looking down at the fabric in his hand, the symbol of his past, before letting her have it. The mask, once a symbol of his doubts and fears, now becomes a simple toy for your daughter as she happily shakes it up and down, a cheeky grin on her little face. 

You and Simon lock eyes, and then the two of you burst out in laughter.  

As your laughter fills the room, a sense of pure joy washes over you. You look at Simon, his eyes sparkling with happiness, and you know in this moment, that the love and bond the three of you share is unbreakable, and it fills your heart with an indescribable warmth.

With a deep sense of gratitude and contentment, you take a mental snapshot of this beautiful moment. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in your mind, a testament to the strength of your love and the joy that radiates from your little girl.

As the laughter subsides, you gather your family close again, embracing the love and happiness that surrounds you. In this embrace, you know that you have everything you could ever need.

Your daughter’s laughter and Simon’s unwavering love fill your life with immeasurable happiness, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the beautiful family you have created.

[persicipen]

like always ノ jiaoqiu

₊ ˙ ⊹ . after the incident that left jiaoqiu in a weakened state, both physically and mentally, shutting himself off even from you, he reluctantly accepts your plea to relearn dearly missed intimacy.

ৎ୭ — · · 4.5k ノ afab gn reader — established relationship . emotional making out ノ petnames — sweet pea . sweetheart ノ bittersweet fluff . lots of hurt and comfort ノ riding him . clumsy and messy attempt at reigniting the spark ノ cumming inside and together hihi ノ heavy spoilers about his condition included! set after 2.5 version!

The start of this little story begins in late afternoon when the distant hustle and bustle of the startskiff port plays a melody for the dust dancing listlessly against the wine-dark sky. As the evening settles in, it’s natural to seek comfort in beloved arms. To rest and feel safe is almost all one could ever desire, but a subtle silence hangs like omen in the quiet inside of the house instead.

Jiaoqiu says nothing, as opposed to the incessant surge of babbling he would normally hit you with as soon as you two were done with work for the day, but that was before the events of Xianzhou Luofu’s Wardance.

And then he mutters the heavy truth in front of your face.

“I don’t think I can do this.” You’re taken aback by the soft voice. As gentle as the fluttering of butterfly wings. There is an edge to his tone, however, like that of a subtle crack in a frozen river.

Little tuskpirs gather around the bed, their round bellies flattening as they slump right against Jiaoqiu’s sides, immediately sensing the rise of anxiety within him and running to soothe his mind and feed on the negative energy. Like sluggish pets, three of them wriggle between you two, ignoring the hints of an unsuccessful attempt at reigniting the intimacy and clothes half taken off.

“Why? What’s wrong?” You scoot over and wrap your arms around his lithe frame. “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“That’s not it…”

“Jiao…”

“I’m sorry. I want to see you.” His voice breaks down — not enough to cry, but it’s obvious he’s struggling.

By instinct, he finds the safe crook of your neck and hides himself there to calm down. A meek escape from what he’s afraid of. You.

No matter the passing time, you wish to give him more if that’s what he needs to open up again. Strength in devotion is not something you’re lacking, no — far from it. However, it would be a lie to say that his rejections do not hurt you. Like knives, like needles, jabbing at your heart that you so willingly present before him, all bare on your open palms.

You knew he’d always been prone to sadness, sulking in the depths of sorrow over his life in private while maintaining a shiny smile at work and shushing all uncomfortable questions with a playful swat of his feather fan. The truth is, you’re helpless by now. So, it’s not like you’re trying to push him into sleeping together. More like persuade, convince, because you’re certain this is exactly what he requires. He has closed himself deep inside his mind, away from you and your tenderness, like believing he’s no longer worthy of your love and he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate something that should never be transactional in the first place.

It’s been already a long while since his recovery, still far from his peak condition, but as good as it will get in the next year, at least.

To heal his shattered image, you want to love him. You already do. Make love to him to show he’s still just as precious to you, each part of him one of a kind. Even if scarred and weakened, he’s as handsome and witty as ever, and you have never wanted anyone else in your life just as badly as him. That’s love to you. You love Jiaoqiu. The problem is, he doesn’t love himself and thus diminishes any chance to prove him wrong.

At first he was repeatedly apologising to you that you had to wake up multiple times a night to change his bandages and soak his wounds in herbal ointments, even if you were doing it because you wanted to. After that, he stopped saying anything, just glancing at you with pity, like he’s taking something from you. As if surviving a few weeks without sex was that hard for you. You want to scoff at the implication. Obviously, this was the last thing you were thinking about, more concerned about the well-being of your beloved man and focused on working yourself off to ensure he’s back to full health as soon as possible to not waste all the amazing treatments he received from the Luofu’s Alchemy Commission.

To put it bluntly, you don’t miss his hot embrace around you while he’s busy crowding you with his cock in the morning when you two are still sleepy. What you do miss is the passion in his heart, burning as brightly as the early sun, beckoning you to hold him close and whisper your feelings to him until there’s nothing left to say.

The tuskpirs hum and snort, wiggling their cute, pudgy bodies to get on his lap for maximum comfort. One settles on yours, sensing that you’re getting overwhelmed by the situation. Instead of enjoying the privacy, you and Jiaoqiu have to accept there must be enough space between you both for these dreamy living cushions. They have been by his side ever since he returned from the Wardance.

“Shh, it’s okay.” There’s so much you wish to say to him, but nothing seems right enough. You wrap your arms around him and pet the back of his head. After getting your breath under control, you decide to speak up gently. “You’ve been doing great around the kitchen for a while now. Touching me should be easier than looking for the right ingredients in the drawers, hm?”

“Hmph, I haven’t lost my skills. I just loved watching you.”

“I can’t see myself either. I wouldn’t consider it a big loss.” You laugh sheepishly.

“I do. You’re so pretty! And, well, it’s unfair when you can still see me.”

“Not when you’re hiding in my neck, silly. Hey…” You cradle him like a wounded bird, trying to get him to move up without forcing him if he certainly doesn’t wish to.

But he does.

“I want you. Really.” You admit, kissing his cheek. “And would appreciate if you could do something about it. But I will not force you. Take your time.”

There’s a voice inside your head telling you to feel guilty for examining his face so intently now, but you need to study every little frown and twitch of his muscles. You need to determine if he’s willing to be loved. The heart before him is bare again, ready to be taken into his hold, but he hesitates, as if returning to you as wounded could change anything between you two. Never. Not only this, even more so, you’re thankful he’s alive and still in your arms, warm, which makes you want to cuddle him even closer.

“Mmm… it’s impossible to refuse you. I just… Hmm, it’s a lot to process.”

“Do you think it will be easier i-if you lie down and I sit on top of you?” You stumble upon the question, cheeks burning at the memory of how you did the exact same thing during your first time together, being much less experienced than you are now.

A faint smile plays on his lips, a blush quickly blooming across his face.

“Haven’t heard you so flustered in a while.” He smirks, noting that you indeed kept your worried and assertive mask for far too long. If not for his flaring injuries, that fake credence of yours would be gone with the first flirty joke playing on his pointy teeth. You never win against his teasing. A spark of joy in your chest blooms at witnessing him so relaxed and regain a part of his old confidence.

It means he might be ready for something more than just the light kisses you haven’t been able to stop yourself from sharing.

A nervous purr erupts in his throat as he clumsily turns around to rest on his back, his hands yearning to never break the contact with your body. Meanwhile, you, even more clumsily, drape yourself atop his lap. There’s a giggle when tuskpirs walk right across his face, brushing their soft, fat bellies against his nose when they march away and jump down the bed, disappointed there’s less of negative energy to snack on. But it’s for the better. You’re almost jealous that Jiaoqiu wouldn’t see them anyway because making out in front of them would embarrass you beyond recognition.

“You sure?” You ask when the proximity is nearly unbearable.

“I owe you this much, dear.”

“Jiao, you really don’t have to force—”

“No, shh… Listen to my voice. I owe you this much, dear. It’s the truth.” His fingertips glide across your hips, sliding further up and over your stomach, trying to make out how many clothes you’re wearing. Still too many, that he’s certain. “Let’s focus now on something else, hmm?”

You allow him to remove the silk robe without making a fuss. He pokes out a tip of his tongue once you’re naked, eagerly roaming his hands all over your body, whispering ‘perfect’ as he begins to explore the well-known shapes and dips of your skin, like recreating the familiar image through other senses. His ears are flicking lightly at every sigh you let out from his bold caresses.

“Just say if anything changes, alright?”

“Alright.” That’s all he can do. Agree. He’s unable to read all the worries hidden in your expression. There’s nothing, just your voice. “Same with you, yes?”

With the closeness and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, it’s like the rest of the world suddenly doesn’t matter. The twitching tail curled next to him reflects his eagerness.

“Mhm, I promise.” You waste not a single more second, drawing near his lips with your own, this time ensuring it isn’t fleeting.

He copies the gesture, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other getting lost in your hair, holding onto the scalp like guidance.

Jiaoqiu feels feverish underneath you, no longer reserved but like a lover he once was before. He savours every last bit of physical contact, yet the bandages are quite irritating and disrupting him from fully enjoying your warmth, though do nothing against the soft noises escaping him whenever you roll yourself along his growing erection.

The tenderness, the touches, the hot kisses shared — all of it. With how sensitive you are after an unavoidable break from sharing a bed with him, it doesn’t take much to make you wet, covering his loose pants with arousal. No longer able to see the sheen layer, but extremely sensitive to sense you’re getting all slippery and hot down there, Jiaoqiu takes it slow to focus on every brief sensation and mark them all in his mind.

As you try to part from his lips to change your position and help him get rid of his clothes, he merely pulls you closer, tongue peeking out and asking for permission to get tangled with yours.

“Not yet.” Is all he says in the quick interval between claiming your mouth.

You whine, maybe from being depraved of the pleasure or maybe exactly because of the delay caused by his request. His breathing becomes faster as he sinks deeper into the kisses, just as he sinks his nails into your back.

The hand that was tugging you down finds its way near your legs, right next to his cock, finger delicately dipping in your wetness and swiping your clit back and forth to both tease and explore where you are — he sighs in relief that it’s no different from when he used to navigate your body in the dark after you had been so embarrassed by his previous mischief that you couldn’t bear to leave any lights on. You squeak, grinding harder into his palm. The teensy noises echo your thirst, one you can no longer contain as Jiaoqiu skillfully guides you to feel his shaft instead of riding his fingers.

“Jiao, please…”

“Mmm, that’s so sweet to hear from you.”

“Get out of your pants already.” You bite his lower lip. Your hands tremble as they try to pull the waistband down.

He smirks into the kiss. How could he doubt himself when all it takes is just a moment to have you so touch-deprived?

Aside from the incessant flames of affinity, you are also proud it got to this point. You want him to be proud too. And you are going to help him understand that he still has you, body and soul. You want to see him come undone underneath you and between your pussy walls, like he always did, like he used to. Ignoring that the break was a necessity for some time, overcome with the tender care for your lover, but now the pent-up desire from these last weeks weighs down on you like a tempest. You need to have him, preferably inside you, and want him to claim you as his own once again.

Fully hard and flushed, his cock throbs in your hold as you lift your hips up to finally hump yourself against him. You take in the sight of him lying underneath you. Beautiful. Elegant.

It seems Jiaoqiu himself isn’t faring much better than you — he curses under his breath as you brush your noses together, pressing just a tad more to get his cockhead to slide into the dewy core. You roll your hips to align him with your entrance, encouraging him to do so with a squeeze to his hand and a lewd whine into his lips. It feels tight and wonderful for both of you; it almost makes you lose your balance and collapse on top of him, but you find yourself steadied by the reassuring arms wrapping around your waist.

He bites his lip, groaning when you purposefully clench around him. Not yet fully inside you, but it’s impossible to deny just how blissfully it is to share this intimate embrace again.

“How much of you do I get today?” You purr, trying to sink down further.

“All of me.” He gulps in response, desperate to indulge himself while you take him as deep as possible. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. All this time spent on thinking about you like this…” He guides you down with a tighter grip on your midriff, himself bucking at the syrupy praise in a physical form. A wordless prayer to let him enjoy it — something so divine even he can’t deny it. Jiaoqiu moans at the contact, even louder as you nip at his neck, giving permission to do more.

“Is this okay?” You ask with a shuddering voice and he only hums in agreement.

Your forehead is pulsing in the dearly missed inkling of being overwhelmed, gathering thoughts and courage to get used to the presence between your legs, nestling raw where you feel the most exposed. The only difference is that usually he would look at you, yet now his eyes remain closed. A small price to pay for the chance of appreciating the sensation of being one with you once again.

The broken whispers are different. He groans, already fucked out even when he hasn’t moved at all. Just the idea of having you wrapped around him again, hips sinking into your downy skin and kissing away tears as you ask him to take you in the same old rhythm of kisses and trust, has him almost too excited.

“Jiao, ah, ngh…”

“I know.” His voice comes out husky, “I missed you so much, sweet pea…”

The tenderness melts your insides as he gently bucks up into you.

Jiaoqiu buries his face in your neck, lips and teeth everywhere, just trying to touch as much of you as possible. You let him, ignoring the burn of your ticklish body and even more bare than before now that he uses his hands to map your entire form.

How you look when submitting to lust.

How you feel, all tight and sodden for him at the same time.

It draws a moan out of you, wanton and crystal clear, out of breath with a need that threatens to drive you mad if not for Jiaoqiu’s sweet smooches swallowing the whimpers and begging whines.

With one hand holding onto the side of your ribs for support, his other goes to grip your ass, lightly patting it, testing the waters to see if he can be more aggressive with you and how you will react. He even presses his cock further inside, his finger teasingly ghosting around your entrance while you’re stuffed full of him. The feathery ecstasy makes you melt in delight, head dizzy as you bable his name over and over again to finally move and not tease you any longer.

“How is it that you’re even more impatient than me?”

“I love you. I just love you so much, and you make me feel good!” You sob, barely able to contain the pleasure anymore, rocking against him, as desperate to hear your little pants and moans as he is to dwell in the squeeze of your walls. He is being selfish, denying you to make this moment last as long as possible just to test whatever is new to him, but it is impossible to fight the temptation of getting lost in you. Together with you.

Perhaps it really is a big inconvenience to not rely on his sight anymore, but he still sees through you better than anyone else, able to bring out the shine from most of your features, knowing your body just as well as knowing the properties of each herb from the drawers. He’s aware of the moment when you get too close, hating that he can no longer watch your face twist and convulse in ecstasy. Even if he has memorised all your precious antics from when he could still watch your pretty visage, they are new again. And it causes him to lose his mind.

He’s beautiful, sprawled on the pillows with his peach-coloured locks of silk for hair; cheeks painted incandescent red and the tip of his nose the same pink as tuskpirs. Eyes closed and framed by long, delicate lashes — so pretty when curled from tears, a layer of sugary fog. The softness of his fair skin catches the dim mauve light of the evening, porcelain and unblemished, save for the subtle traces of weariness that linger from the remains of the sickness.

Even in his exhaustion, there’s an ethereal grace to him, as if nothing could ever dull the elegance etched in his figure. It’s easier for him to get tired, but that was within your expectations.

In this fleeting stillness, he belongs only to you. You can imagine hearing the echo of his laugh — that mischievous lilt he so often hides behind — but now, his lips are parted just enough to hint at the quiet suspire of fulfilment.

He’s so perfect it almost hurts. And yet, there’s something fragile in him too, something only those who love him enough can see beneath the layers of smiles and clever words. Something you’d protect at all costs.

It takes no time for him to figure out how to move in just the right way to keep you hanging on the edge, ickle mewls now dripping down your tongue with how helpless you are against his touch, even when you’re on top of him.

“I will take your hands, ngh— and lay them down, okay… Ah!” So desperately trying to intertwine your fingers together and press them to the sides of his head — all futile as the strength leaves your limbs to be replaced with the prickling heat of love.

“Hmm, doesn’t seem like you’re able to do that, sweetheart.”

He moans as you arch your back and whimper with every bounce of your hips, as if trying to get away from the torturous rhythm but encouraging him to buck into you simultaneously.

“Tell me… how does it feel like?” Jiaoqiu demands, a saccharine tone between panting breaths, making your face burn.

“Like… ah, perfect.” The sensation is too overwhelming for you. Unable to even think, let alone speak coherently. “Like always…”

The pleasure is rolling off you in waves as you meet his thrusts. Like always, like it was before. After all the words left unsaid, you two are closer than have been in weeks. It is perfect in its imperfection — there are scars, spaces you cannot quite fill — but the air between you is forever the same, scented with spices and sweet lewdness, and you don’t need any further proof that this is real, that he is real. The closeness is still raw at the edges, a bit awkward as somehow your bodies clash in places that used to align smoothly, charged with something that passing days and distance have failed to erase.

This is your first time in many long weeks, after all. The stabs of bliss send you over the edge faster than before, keening into his face. Jiaoqiu hums and coos at how beautiful you sound, taking a deep breath under your jawline to take in your scent and drown himself in it. It surprises him when you quiver, deliciously soaked with the tint of love.

His cock throbs in wanton pain, begging for relief, and if he knew this would make you even tighter than before, he might have thought twice before doing it. He chuckles, still overwhelmed by the wave of endorphins, as if drunk on happiness. You swear you can hear him purr when you run your fingers over his ear and take a firm hold on it, feeling him buck into you with a high-pitched whine. As your shaking hand slides down his neck, tracing the smooth scars there, you reach for his chest.

“You still love that, hmm?”

“Hmm, how could I not?” He sighs as you nibble on his collarbone, very very careful not to irritate the discoloured marks after Hoolay’s fangs.

“Please, touch me here, too.” You bring his palm between your legs, gently guiding his fingers to your clit.

“Aren’t you a tiny bit too bratty?”

“What if I am?” You ask teasingly.

In spite of the exchange of words, he obliges to your demands. Your arousal covers his digits when he circles them around your swollen nub. Concurrently, his thrusts are slow and purposeful, holding you in place and savouring the sensation of being one with you again. The rough patch of the bandage near his navel reminds him in the most annoying way he’s yet to return to full health.

“Ahh, Jiaoqiu!”

His ears perk up in delight at how it sounds so beautiful when you cry his name like that.

Having an emotional barrier over your sex life has been excruciating for both of you, but you’re finally getting a glimpse of the previous wonderful intimacy you used to share.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He breathes out, heavy and shuddering, already so close just from this.

“I’m yours,” you whine. “All yours.”

He’d never force you into that, but the sentiment of such reassurance, even after all this time and his condition, makes his heart flutter and his hips stutter in their movements. His hand flies up to cradle your face, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The sudden confession and a rough tap on your bundle of nerves — a hint of pain and pleasure as his hips hit your own — is what at last pulls you into release. With his name slurred in between hiccups and sobs, you grip at his shoulders, and your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing him with yourself.

Jiaoqiu thrusts deep inside you and lets go of his load, biting down on your shoulder with the intention to leave a mark. Regardless, you allow him even closer to give him more of your skin. The temptation to make a small wound and taste you is irresistible for him, yet he will not cross this boundary. Not yet, at least. Your fingers brush through his hair as he whines and clings to you for support, licking over the sore spot and pumping in a frenzy, riding out his orgasm to milk himself in your welcoming core.

He’s always been rough while reaching his peak, as if all instincts within him take control to fill you up with his cum thoroughly. Jiaoqiu tries to prolong the pleasure but can’t do it — simple as that — panting and cuddling to you like he’d never let go. You sink into him as you both catch your breaths, giving in to the sleepiness after a warm, much-needed release.

It is so comforting and dreamy to be cradled in his arms, to have his cock still buried inside you, already sore and sensitive. His heartbeat joining your own, soft tuffs of inhales and exhales lulling you to rest against his chest, as you let out a lush sigh in satisfaction.

A couple of touches and smiles are enough for now.

“How you’re doing?” You let yourself settle on his chest again, trembling hands stroking the mess of fur between his ears. He squirms, placing an arm around you.

“Surprisingly good.” He adjusts on the pillow, holding you tight as if not to let you slip away from him. You only stroke his face, thumbs swiping across the wet tear streaks on his cheeks, continuing to give affectionate pats and tender brushes through his hair.

However, it’s impossible to miss how drowsy he turns after the vigorous exercise. With the bandages so loose, the difference is just so apparent.

“Tired?” You brush your nose against his. “I know it was rather taxing on your constitution now, but… how do you feel now?”

“No matter what you think, I am perfectly fine. I missed you a lot. Quite fun to realise that I needed just a little persuasion from you to accept some things.” His hands brush up and down your arms, and he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “What about you? How do you feel with everything?”

“I needed this just as much as you, you stubborn old fox.” You mumble.

“Hmm, not as stubborn as you, it seems.”

It makes you giggle into his shoulder. There are so many emotions hidden under the cover of snuggles, but you wish for this to last longer than anything else — and in his arms, you are at last secure and loved. Together with him.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — okay, so… i really hope i approached the topic the right way. it might not be obvious, but i read through many articles, comments and stories from people who lost their sight, especially as adults, and how their lives changed after that. they’re still doing fine and adjusted to the new reality, which is sweet! working on this little fic was quite emotional to me as a certified jiaoqiu fan, especially that i “secretly-not-so-secretly” selfship with him, and perhaps i even could add a warning that it’s selfship-coded, but also reader didn’t really have any specific traits there. i guess i wanted to just write something cute that happens after the incident to show that jiaoqiu, even if struggling with some aspects of his life, especially emotional and intimate ones, is still the same lovely character <3 and if i have enough time and motivation later, i plan to write some fluff about it too!

[starsthewitch]

Star’s beginners guide to Aphrodite worship 🐚💕

Who is Aphrodite?

Aphrodite is the goddess of love, sex, beauty, seduction, and war. She is most commonly known for her immense beauty and her many associations with sex.

What are some things she is associated with?

Doves

Flowers like roses

The colors pink, red, blue, green, white, and gold

Crystals like rose quartz, clear quartz, pearls, diamonds, sapphires, amethyst, rubies, moonstones, and aquamarines

Incense that smells of rose, cinnamon, myrrh, frankincense, vanilla, and jasmine

Her tarot cards, The Lovers, The Empress, and The Star

What can I give to her as offerings?

Shells or shell imagery

Ocean imagery

Swan and dove imagery

Heart imagery

Valentine's day gifts like chocolates

Imagery/paintings that depict her

Roses or rose imagery

Doing skincare for her

Perfumes or colognes

Hairbrushes

Mirrors

Doing your makeup

Moonwater

Strawberries, apples,and raspberries

Devotional acts or things you can do in her honor

Giving compliments to people

Collecting things you find pretty

Wearing jewelry you've offered or devoted to her

Watch or read romantic material

Self-love

Masturbation (if comfortable in doing so)

Sex (if comfortable in doing so)

Wear perfume dedicated to her

Spend time with loved ones

Create a digital altar (these can be done on Pinterest)

Write poetry about her

Write a letter to her

Create or listen to a playlist dedicated to her

Talk to her (tarot cards, dice, pendulum, and other forms of divination work just fine)

What is it like working with her?

When it comes to Aphrodite, in myth, she was often known as a wrathful and jealous goddess. However, since the myths are just stories and are known to exaggerate some details, this isn’t usually the case.

However, when people mention to others that they are interested in working with Aphrodite, they usually say that you absolutely should not. That she is needy, requires a lot of attention and offerings, that if you don’t do what she says, she will take your beauty away.

This is also not the case.

In my experience as an Aphrodite worshipper, she is very loving, along with being insanely passionate. Also being very vocal about her needs and wants.

Often getting signs from her isn’t at all uncommon. I remember the first few weeks I started working with her, I got an image on my feed that had these two eels intertwined together in a heart shape.

You will often feel connected to sea life, the sea in general, wanting to do things for yourself like dressing nicer and wanting to take care of yourself more.

Here are some things I’ve experienced in my time in working with her.

When I first started praying to her, I stuttered and fumbled over my words. A lot. I was oddly nervous about it? I’m not the type to stutter and fumble often. But beginning to feel nervous and even embarrassed in the presence of the goddess of love? Very normal.

She often enjoys getting milk and dark chocolate, along with roses or any kind of flower, real or not. I gave her chocolates, a fake rose, and a real flower for valentines day and she was insanely happy with it. So much so that her candle rested in a heart shape for a short while.

I often saw butterflies, a symbol of Aphrodite.

I often feel inclined to go to the beach, collect seashells, and do things that make me feel good.

I feel more comfortable expressing love. Before, I was never the type to use pet names for people, especially for friends. But i’ve noticed that I now call people sweet and endearing names. Honeybun, sweet pea, boo, sweetie/sweetness, and babes are things i’ve been saying lately.

She is very honest, often not sugarcoating things. I asked her when my ex first asked me out if we’d last. She said no and gave me explicit reasons as to why. Though I still went out and dated them anyway, and it pretty much ended in the way she said.

She very much enjoys art work of her. I’ve drawn her a few times, asking her to guide my hand in doing so.

Whenever I feel unattractive or hate something about my appearance, she usually makes someone compliment me that day or that week. I was having an off day with my hair, and in that same hour, a girl walked up to me and said that she loved my hair and the style it was in.

That is it for my beginners Aphrodite worship guide! I will be doing these for the other two deities I work with, Apollo and Freyja.

I do hope these were helpful. If you have any questions or need assistance with anything, my ask box and my dms are always open. So be sure to shoot me a message!

Much love to you. <3

[cloudyskydreams]

S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT

Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans: The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"

Papyrus: It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.

Underfell:

Red: Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.

Edge: Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.

Underswap:

Blue: You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.

Stretch: Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.

HorrorTale:

Axe: He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.

Willow: His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.

[catkyunie]

KINKTOBER 2024: Somnophilia - J.WY | Dream a Little Dream

Incubus Wooyoung. That's it. That's the plot.

⛧ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

⛧ tw: smut, somnophilia, dubcon, tongue fucking, slight bondage, mating press, talks of breeding

⛧ wc: 2800

⛧ network: cromernet

You had never put much stock in dreams before. While they were always fun to discuss in passing with friends, especially after a night of particularly ridiculous imagery, it was never anything you felt compelled to analyze or try to understand.  From something as mundane as dreaming about your 9-5 to as outrageous and unhinged as fever-induced delirium, it was just another part of the human experience for you, as natural and monotonous as blinking. Tonight was different. Not only had the content of these dreams been something you had never experienced, but the odd state of limbo that it left your brain and body in felt…unnatural. You wondered if all wet dreams were meant to feel this way. 

While your mind was present enough to understand that it was, in fact, a sexual dream that you were experiencing, it didn’t feel like it was the one behind the camera. Your subconscious felt just as disconnected from the scene as you did, two peas in a pod stranded on the sidelines, left to piece together what was happening through an incredibly thick fog. In reality, it wasn’t even the blotchy slideshow of patchwork pictures that faded in and out of view that alerted you to the contents of this dream. No, that came from the braids of fire and heat that licked over the curves of your body and left you trembling and gulping for air. You could not recall a singular time that your body felt as present and lucid during a dream as it did now. Hell, you couldn’t remember your body ever feeling like this, awake or otherwise. It was as if every nerve that peppered your skin was pulled taut, and ready to snap. The sensations were honestly overwhelming. Between what felt like large, heavy hands pawing at and groping your tits, ass, and thighs and a long, slick appendage dragging liquid fire between your breasts and down your navel, your brain was not able to fully process one sensation before being presented with another. It wasn’t until you felt a swift and sharp thwack against your weeping pussy that you were able to gain any semblance of clarity, an image finally clearing the vapor as a gasp was pulled from your throat.  

He was the most exquisite thing you had ever seen. With skin the color of varnished bronze and facial features that appeared sharp enough to slice pliable flesh, the creature that hovered over your paralyzed form looked like a Grecian statue given life. The planes of his naked body were fit, the musculature beneath the skin firm and taut. Curtains of satin black draped just past his shoulders, the tilt of his head pulling your hungry eyes from their venture over his body and up into the face of the beautiful stranger.  When your eyes finally met his intense and penetrating gaze, you felt your breath catch in your throat, the corners of his full mouth curving into a devious grin. One of his eyes had a monolid while the other was double-lidded, something you had never seen before but knew you would forever commit to memory. 

“Glad to see you’ve returned to this realm of consciousness, sweet thing.” 

Every syllable he spoke felt like a stroke of pure heat against your clit, causing your back to arch beneath him, your choked breath now pushing from your throat in the form of one of the lewdest sounds you had ever made. Amused by this, the creature chuckled playfully before pulling his eyes from yours and taking his turn to assess your body. A forked tongue began to push past his plush lips as his eyes traveled over the length of your curves, extending further from his mouth the lower his vision traveled. You followed suit, your chin tilting into your neck to watch his every movement. His tongue was now fully unfurled, the split at its tip teasingly dragging lazy circles over your pubic mound. Without any prompting, your legs readily parted for him, your hips widening and preparing themselves to take whatever it was he had to offer. That was what the demon had been waiting for. The slick appendage quickly shifted south, and its forked tendrils curled around and tugged on the bundle of nerves that sat atop the entrance to your sex. If you had jerked your head back any harder and pushed your back into a tighter arch, you're sure both would’ve snapped, just as your mind had. You had been sent tumbling head first into the orgasm, the band that had been holding you together coming apart and spreading molten fire across your body. It was tangible, too acute and too real. There was no possible way this was a dream—

Somehow, you were crashing into another wave, your thighs clamping shut, only to be forced open again as the length of his tongue flattened against your slit. Pushing past your folds, it burrowed itself deep into your sex, curling against the plush mound of flesh that ignited all of your pleasure receptors and left you in a complete tailspin. The convulsions rocked your body, forcing your ass off of the now damp mattress, a sound you had never heard before pushing past your throat and mingling with the wet sounds of his tongue fucking you. His assault on your body slowed as you felt your head begin to pull above water. Your skull felt as heavy as a ton of bricks, your vision hazy and your ears clogged. You could hear the stranger speaking to you, his wicked tongue back behind his lips where it belonged. However, the longer you lay in your mess, the more difficult you find it to fully pull yourself out of your euphoric stupor. You felt fingers digging into your cheeks then, your head lolling over on your shoulders as you were forced to face him, his angled nose mere inches from your own. 

“Aht aht, sweet thing. Can’t have you tapping out on me now. I haven’t even properly bred you yet.” His breath smelt of honey and bourbon and it only made your head swim more.

“I know what’ll bring some life back to those pretty eyes…”

You were aware of his body shuffling over yours as your head rolled back into its previous position, his hands instead filling themselves with the curve of your ass and pulling your body into his. You were completely malleable in his hands. As he cradled your backside and kept your hips elevated off of the mattress, your shoulders remained pressed into the bedding. You followed the shape of his body, blinking past the film that clouded your eyes. You felt it before you saw it, the tips of his fingers tracing over your lower abdomen in swoops and scribbles that you couldn’t quite piece together. Once he had finished the sigil, you felt the weight of his palm press into the muscle there, causing a lick of heat to ignite between your thighs. As he massaged into your tender flesh, your vision began to slowly clear and your body began to ground itself, the smug grin that colored his features now stark and apparent. Over his shoulder, you could see what appeared to be a black coil begin to unfold behind him, curving past his clavicle and creeping itself slowly up the length of your body. Before you had time to properly gain a handle on your limbs, you felt the tendril wrap itself in your hair and jerk you upwards. In one smooth motion, you found yourself seated in the creature’s lap, his palm still pressed to your belly, and fully impaled on his dick. 

The scream that filled the room rang as clearly between your eyes as the church bells that signaled Sunday Mass. The sheathing of his cock and how it filled you and stretched you to make you feel the fullest you ever had was more than enough to have your mind completely cleared of the fog and root you back into your body. Again, your eyes met the deep, dark pools of his own and he held you there as he continued to knead into the muscles of your lower abdomen. Working your insides and pushing down, causing the fountain at the base of your spine to begin to bubble with heat. Though his tail still held steadfast to your tangle of hair and continued to pull to straighten your spine, your hands reflexively reached for his broad shoulders, looking for some kind of purchase. This pulled a snicker deep from inside his chest. It was all instinct and animalistic need. 

“Good, good angel. You’ve got the right idea.” 

Untangling from your hair, your locks falling around the both of you and draping you in its length, his tail retracted past his shoulder, only to pull your fists forward, effectively caging the demon in your arms…and locking you in place. In what felt like a blink of an eye, the creature had removed his hand from your belly and instead filled both palms with your hips, holding your body in place. And with minimal effort, he began to work you on the length of his dick. At first, they were long, punctuated strokes, making you feel every inch of him before stabbing into the deepest parts of your womb. As he felt your body adjust to his size, your breaths evolving from sharp intakes of air to throaty, languid sighs, so did his pace. Fingers dug into your plush flesh, bouncing you on his length and rolling your hips into his. All you had to do was sit there and take it. This sexual deviant had taken your body and all but turned it into his fleshlight. And, for reasons that were beyond your comprehension, you didn’t mind that. This dream had taken you above and beyond anything that the physical realm had ever been able to grant you sexually. When you find yourself wiping the sleep from your eyes and proceeding with your mundane day-to-day, you may very well not remember a singular detail of the bliss your consciousness had conjured for you. So, fuck it. If you were going to be used as a demon’s fuck toy, might as well enjoy it while you could. 

As if a switch had been flipped, you felt yourself beginning to control the movement of your hips, his hands simply acting as guides instead of the driving force. It was now you working yourself on him, chasing that ever-tightening coil in the pit of your belly and willing it to snap open and break you apart. Except now, you weren’t the only one whose body was fully invested. With each grind of your pelvis into his or slap of your ass lifting and then slamming back into him, you could hear his grunts begin to deepen, his fingers in your flesh tightening, his brows knitting. His tail tightened around your wrists, yanking you forward and compressing your breasts tightly to his chest, forcing you to change angle and rock your hips instead of bouncing. You were, once again, inches from his face. His breath washed over you and heated your lips, angular nose occasionally bumping yours as you alternated the cadence in which you fucked him. Honey and bourbon filled your nostrils and in that moment, you didn’t care how close you were to cumming, how delicious it felt to have him stretching your pussy. All you could think about was how he tasted. 

Your lips crashed into his, hungry and desperate as your teeth pulled his full bottom lip between your own and gave it a hard suckle. Similar to what you had imagined, only better. He tasted like a hot toddy, warm and rich and full. Reciprocating the kiss, his hands left your hips and encircled your back, one reaching up and tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, the other reaching across and filling itself with your round ass. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him surrounding you and swallowing you whole, leaving you on the precipice and threatening to send you diving into the deep end. That, unbeknownst to you, set off a trigger all its own for the demon. He paused, gulping down air, as if he was taking your moans and devouring them. You felt him shudder around you and his cock pulsate deep inside of you. There had been a palpable shift in energy, one that caused goosebumps to speckle your body. Before you could move to press your mouth to his again, you felt the grip in your hair tighten, yanking your head back and exposing your throat to him. A growl crawled up from his belly and vibrated against your neck as he pressed his lips there, teeth nicking at the skin. 

“I am going to fucking ruin you.” 

Again, the position shifted. Pushing you back into the mattress, he left you no time to breathe, no time to think, no time to process the weight of his words. You were being folded in half, your knees pressed up against your chest as the weight of him fully enveloped you. On one sharp inhale, he was inside of you again, hunched over your body and pumping so violently into you that you were convinced you were going to break apart beneath him. This was his true nature, a being built from pleasure whose sole purpose was to conquer and breed, dumping his seed into any living mortal whose spiritual guard was low enough to allow him entry. But, you didn’t care. The only things your mind could hold onto were the feeling that was snaking up your spine, the rubber band that was pulled too tight, and the orgasm that you knew was going to tear you apart. And him dumping his load directly into your womb like the breedable bitch you were. 

“Oh, fuck.” His teeth found the crook of your neck, biting down tightly as he gave one final pump into your sex, groaning deeply as he spilled into you. You felt your eyes roll back, your body beginning to convulse, and with every hot rope of seed that emptied into you, another wave of ecstasy crashed down and smothered you. There were no tangible thoughts. Only the feeling of being stuffed full and overflowing. And then? Nothing. Just a sea of black. 

Your head felt like it had been removed from your shoulders and was one whisper away from cracking open and spilling over your pillow. As you peeled your lids apart and blinked past the sleep that still clung desperately to your lashes, you reached up and shielded your eyes from the rays of morning sunlight that leaked into your bedroom. You had woken up with your fair share of migraines before, be it from a night of drinking or just a rough day of work the day before, but none of those compared to the pain you were in right now. It wasn’t until you pulled yourself up onto your elbows that it wasn’t only your head that felt like it had been put through the wringer. Your entire body felt sore and achy, your shoulder and hips especially sore. 

“What the hell…” you croaked, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and pushing past the pain with a sharp intake of air. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” 

You rolled your shoulders and neck, a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as you felt your joints stretch and pop, relieving some of the pressure that had built overnight. Now that you were mostly awake and out of your sleep-induced stupor, you tried to think back to your previous day and see if you couldn’t pinpoint what may have had you feeling so beat up. From what you could recall, it hadn’t been a strenuous day. It was just as average as any other normal work day, followed by you coming home, eating dinner, and relaxing with a glass of wine before turning in. 

“Huh…I wonder if I caught a bug or something?” 

Pushing your hand up beneath your night blouse, you laid your hand flat against your tummy and slowly started to rub, the morning hunger beginning to awaken right alongside you. That was when you felt it. Something that hadn’t been there the night before as you showered. Something that hadn’t been there as you fell into your sleep. Raised skin along your lower abdomen that swooped and swirled this way and that. Panicking, you lifted your shirt and peered down, your eyes widening as your skin paled and a cold sweat began to speckle your brow. There, etched into your flesh, was a sigil. One that had already healed and scarred over. And, resting at the center of that sigil, an eloquently written J, W, Y. 

[night-dazai]

I keep giving myself baby fever

Hear me out.

Bsd men got a breeding kink-

BSD MEN BREEDING KINK : 

Hey, I feel like this is not so complete cause this is the first time I am writing about breeding kink, forgive me if there are mistakes and point them out so I can correct them on later works. Thank you for the request cause it is a wonderful one

I also did not check this for spelling and grammar errors

Dazai : 

To this man he has never kept his hands off you and never will.

One day as he was mindless watching some reels he saw a few baby reels “What will y/n’s kid with me look like “ his mind thought and thats the end of you . 

Every night senseless fucking you raw “Bella..want a kid..” he would plead. 

But deep down he felt he does not deserve one, but once he has tried fucking you raw . yep. no changing his mind he wants a kid .

He wants to see you belly bulge with his kid , but makes sure you also agree to it . 

He feels sacred some nights thinking of what can happen if he has a lot of weakness cause one of them is you , all precious people near him all dead yet you are here to hold his hand at every step . 

And let him fuck your cunt till it leaks cum “ you look soo lovely like this darling , like a painting “ he says licking the mixture “one more pleasee “ he asks with his doe eyes. 

The moment the pregnancy is confirmed, yep he is shocked

"Its like a pea " he says looking the documents, man becomes so overprotective makes sure you are always with someone from the agency and nerve alone .

He loves to lay his head on your tummy and talk to the baby " baby , it has been 178 days since you are in you mom's tummy hows it in there ?" " Baby your dad is being bullied bu your mom " he would also complain to it .

Boy is overjoyed he first runs to tell Oda " I am starting my own family " his voice breaks as the gentle breeze makes his hair sway he keeps talking to him while you holding his form falling down.

He knows how dangerous it is for you and the baby now and his mind just starts planning everything from birth to every single thing to do to keep the baby safe.

Chuuya : 

Boy , now first step its you who brings up this topic , to him he is blessed enough to feel human due to your presence but he is a man who is never overly greedy. 

A kid ? his kid ? when you tell him this you see wet eyes and trembling hands “ but its dangerous i am dangerous “ he says . 

It takes a lot more time than Dazai to convince this redhead, but once he is conceived he is the most sweetest guy . 

He would treat you like its the first time you are having sex , being all sweet and making sure you feel alright. 

All the rough sex is out of the window (unless you beg for it )

He cums inside and uses his thick fingers to pump it back in “Now now be a good girl “ he would whisper sweet things into your ears . 

One day he would suddenly come home with tons of baby clothes and toys and posters “ chu what is this ?” you asked confused “ i liked it bought it “ he says happily smiling like a kid . 

Big rich has its perks, he gets you regularly checked up , men make sure your health if on top it, and no one in the mafia is allowed near you .

He is like a guard dog barking at anyone trying to even look at your direction,and night after night of sweet love once pregnancy is confirmed.

He cries, he cries in front of everyone in his office (well you tell him in his office with the scanned images ) . 

Good luck with more pampering 

Kunikida: 

This man , has everything planned from the moment he sleeps eats and takes a bath , maye even even he breathes. 

But sex, family, and lifelong partner are also in his book . 

I am sure he will find it hard to find a person who fits all his ideals and you might be someone who fits 2 or 3 of them (or even none)

You guys having sex is also scheduled in his book as a relaxing time (call caps )

He is a top , gentle, sweet , always wears and condom and all okay good fine . 

You were someone who wanted some spicy and thats how one day when he comes home all stressed you give him your present. 

A tight red lingerie, lifting your breasts a bit a cut leaving your sweet buds open and you holding your legs wide open saying “ welcome “. 

He snaps, there is no way he is holding back from this treat , his rthurs hard and pace fast , he becomes all grabby. 

As he feels his dick twitching he realises he ahs no condom “ shit “ he mumbles and try to pull out “ stay “ you say pulling his neck and kissing him while the other hand pushes his dick back deeper . 

The man relases inside you feeling something new , his eyes wide chest heaving he looks down seeing his cum drip down your tighs on the sheets.

Licking his cum mixed with yours “ it felt nice right ?” you ask trying to get up and wash when a hand stops you . 

“More “ he says tone very firm he is going back in , he is too out of it , his mind seeing images of a mini you running around the house 

Seeing your belly big, he lost it and you knew it cause his eyes looked soo lust full “ sure babe” 

After all the steamy stuff is over man is weight down with his thoughts, keeps saying sorry while you are smiling at him “ its fine “.

“Of course it is not” he says , his job is not extremely dangerous but alos not very safe , he does not ever want to see anyone die . 

You were strong to protect yourself but what about a kid ? his mind is too messed when you kiss his hands.

“ It will all be fine relax ,we can take care “ and that when it hits him “ you want a baby ?” his voice trembles he asks while you nod shyly. 

Good luck cause once it is decided every night you guys have to RELAX and the next day, you better ask for a long vacation if you are working cause this man is going to work overtime on you .

Once it is confirmed that you are pregnant " from now on all your lazy schedule is out of the roof " he says sternly.

Makes you eat health food, and makes you do yoga for fitness you can whine and cry but you are doing them " no more fooling around its time for you to eat your vitamin tablets "

He will try his best to spend more and more time with you guys and read books as to "what to tell a baby while it's in the stomach " he looks like a ring master telling the baby moral value stories but you can see the affection and nervous this man is hiding.

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[yourjughead]

Boyfriend

Sweet Pea and Y/N have been seeing each other in secret for some time but as a new serpent enters the playing field, tempers flare but is it all what if seems?

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

SP POV

"So when are you guys gonna stop pretending it's just sex and actually just sign the marriage licence, it's been like 7 months which is basically decades in the Serpents"

The water I gulped down nearly took deathly grip at Tonis comment.

"N-o no no" I managed to choke out between rapid taps to the back from Fangs.

"Toni please don't kill the man, I'm sure YN wouldn't like if you bumped off her play thing" Fangs quipped while watching the colour return back to my face.

"I'm not her play thing, if anything she's mine"

"And who exactly could you be talking about like that" of course she's going to join the conversation at the most inconvenient time. I wish the water had just finished me off.

"Y/N, we were just messing with him"

"Ah yes Toni because I love when my sex life is the topic of conversation amongst my friends, although I suppose you've nothing going on in your own lives" she dropped your tray next to me before sliding in across.

"And how is Cheryl?" you added, Toni sunk down on the seat with a groan.

"And Kevin?" sending Fangs sliding too, leaving me grinning into my soup. I caught her hand beneath the table as the other two tried to take back hold of their pride. We shouldn't have even been talking about this so openly in school, I'm really not trying to put a target on my back.

"If you do marry eachother I'll officiate"

"That's very nice Fangs but don't you need to be able to read to do that?" Fangs caught his chest in feign hurt at Y/Ns joking tone. We shouldn't be talking about this, they know I'd never be allowed to marry her, I can't even openly date her.

As if on que, Y/N dropped my hand quickly to place both in front of her tray, her eyes following the newest recruit to the Serpents. Jughead Jones. Now there's the only person her father would let her marry, another serpent legacy.

"Hey guys"

"Hey Jughead!" She responded very much too excited to him in my opinion.

"Y/N, I'm heading to Pop' wanna come? I know you really want to try it" how could he know what she wants? I'm what she wants. Right?

"Sure, see you later guys" y/n smiled and I could feel my other best friends shuffle awkwardly in their seats as y/n then strutted off with her future husband.

"SP-"

"Don't" I silenced Toni's saddening tone with a raised hand, I don't need their pitty.

~ 3rd Person

Over the next few weeks you spent more and more time around Jughead. Your father approved massively of this budding relationship, not going unnoticed by Sweet Pea or the rest of your friends. You and Jughead would go on jobs together, meet up before and after meetings together and just in general be together. It was becoming more and more difficult for Sweet Pea to be around and he began to retreat into himself.

~

5 weeks later - 3rd Person

Sweet Pea sprawled out across the tattered sofa of his very own trailer. Trying to take his mind of you and Jughead, he flicked through tv channels, then the books in his reach before finally landing on reading his history book absentmindedly. His eyes eventually weighing more than the book and closing. Dreams of you in eggshell coloured dresses waltzing up a flower covered aisle to meet a groom with a blurry face but a very prominent crown beanie splashed across his mind. The image jolted him from his sleep, crashing him to the floor.

Sweet pea rubbed his face with the blanket thrown across him, trying to remove the image from his thoughts. The soft glow from his ajar bedroom door across the darkened living room caught his eye. His hands ran down the blanket that was not there when he drifted off. Your hushed voice eventually met his ears from the bedroom, his senses waking one by one. He misses you breaking into his trailer nightly, the last time having been a few weeks ago.

Sweet Peas Pov

Collecting myself from the floor I snuck over to the door where I could accidentally on purpose hear her speak more clearly on the phone.

"Yeah there's just no future there - yeah - I really like being around him but what's the point when I don't want to continue - yeah yeah - I don't want any more feelings to grow - mmm - I just have to be with him to get where I need to go - yeah you're right- talk later love you Sis - bye - bye - bye" oh god it's happening, the end, she's ending it with me. I don't care if she's using me, just as long as she's with me. Right?

I heard her jump up from mattress. Crap crap crap. I went to scramble back to the sofa, sliding along the laminate in the blanket she had wrapped on me, flying straight back onto the floor. Ugh god my head. As I blinked her shape standing over me came into focus, I gave a small nervous laugh.

"Sweets, are you having fun down there?" She laughed offering a hand and instantly regretting it as I pulled her down on top of me.

"Now I am" I rolled her into the blanket and deep into my chest, squeezing as if letting go would mean she's gone forever. The closest we'd been in awhile.

"Sweet - Pea - You're - Crushing - Me" she attempted through my chest and began go gently push from me. It's already happening. She rolled her head up and gently kissed my cheek and I released my grip.

"Why are you on the floor"

"Why are you in my house?"

"Touché" she smiled before sitting up to retrieve her buzzing phone from her pocket.

"Who's are you giggling at?" I hate myself for asking but seeing her smile at her phone the way she smiles at me gave me reason.

"It's just something Jughead said -" ugh god why why why "- and I don't giggle" she gently hit me into my chest as I rolled from her and then up off the floor. I crossed the room towards the fridge where I rooted around.

"He was telling me about the book he's writing over lunch today, he's really got something for making up elaborate plans, we actually decided to -"

"We?" I almost growled at her as I pulled a beer from the fridge and turned to her disapproving stares. I know she doesn't like when I drink on week days, we were brought up in bar culture and she hates bringing it home with her. I'm not even sure she'd call me home anymore.

"Sweet pea don't get like that over Jughead, you like him I thought" she moved towards me in the kitchen, the blanket drapped over her still. I leaned on the fridge across from her and watched her prop herself up onto the countertop, her phone now next to her.

"Y/N, he rocks up into our school, parades around, Mr. Prince of the Serpents, takes you from me all the time so we can never have any alone time together and then -"

"Ah so that's what this is about, you miss the sex" she seemed to toy but I definitely wasn't in the mood to joke.

"No! Well yeah but that's not all I miss, this is the most we've talked in over a month and it's still about him!"

"Sweet Pea don't get angry at me!" She slid from the blanket and the counter. Too late, I was very much very angry which was only increased when her phone lit up, with the one word I'd never heard her use before, boyfriend.

"What the fuck?!" I lunged for it, almost forgetting my height, giving y/n a bit of a fright, something I had never done. Seems to be a day of firsts for everyone. Boyfriend?! Boyfriend?! She tried to reach for the ringing phone, this time I didn't forget my height, answering the phone and hoping I didn't hear the person I knew was on the other head.

"Hey y/n/n, I'll meet you at the usual spo-" I cut Jones off before he could finish, hurling the phone at the cabinets. This time I gave y/n a very noticeable fright as the phone screen came seperate from the motherboard.

"Sweet Pea!! Calm down! You're acting like a raving lunatic, let me explain!" She shouted back, more firsts from her, she had never raised her voice at me before but I suppose I started it. No she did. Jones did. I'm gonna kill him.

"Explain what?! What's there to explain Y/N/N" I used the name he called her like the curse word it was to me.

"Me and you have been seeing each other for like almost 9 months and that has meant something to me, clearly not so much to you" okay Sweet Pea that was probably a bit harsh. I breathed out deeply, trying to release any amount of pressure from chest. She moved from the kitchen and into the bedroom, returning again and putting on her jacket. Damn.

"You have no idea the kind of pressure I'm under Sweet Pea" she almost bit at me as she zipped herself up.

"Yeah I'm sure there's a lot of pressure straddling Jones" I was shocked I said that, she was shocked I said that. I think I don't even believe what I said but then again, he's her boyfriend. Boyfriend?! She's never called me that, would never call me that. This thought pushed the regret for what I said from me and replaced it back with anger.

"Oh whatever Sweet Pea, talk to me when you recover from the concussion you clearly got from the fall" She flew open the trailer door and stormed out into the cold night. I slid down the fridge, her smashed up phone alongside me. Nice one Pea, you really messed up this time..... except she messed up too, she's dating Jones and didn't tell me. She's dating Jones and didn't tell me. She's dating Jones and didn't tell me. I could feel my neck rise again with anger as I stood and went to the front door. I need to pay the serpent prince a visit.

Part 2

[diapydemon]

Exercise

It had been so long since I had had any… adult attention.

I know we agreed to take our kinks to the next level, but still — I haven’t cum in months. Every time mommy walked by, my swelling member strained against my plastic pink cage. It was starting to become too much

I had tried my best to be the good baby mommy wanted, but I needed to cum! And I have been a good baby! I’ve been using my diapers without complaints, I haven’t said any bad words, and —excruciatingly— I haven’t cum or had an accident once!

Maybe that’s why mommy had so much compassion when I had my little outburst, as she had called it.

“Mommy!” I whined as I eyed her shapely figure, “Please!! I needa cum!!”

“Hmmm,” Mommy contemplated my request, “Well you have been quite a good boy recently…”

I hung on every word, desperation written all over my face.

“And I suppose it would be good for you to get some excercise in…”

“P-pwease Mommy,” I whimpered, trying to secure her decision.

“Tell you what sweetie,” she smiled down at me, “Mommy ordered you a special toy that’ll help. You just gotta wait a couple days for it to come in, and then you’ll feel all better! Can you be patient for Mommy?”

“MmmHmmm,” I moaned.

A few days past, and my sorry state of desperation had only gotten worse. But I knew if I acted out or misbehaved in any way, mommy would take my relief away to punish me for my naughtiness. For better or worse, I was committed to being her obedient baby.

Then, it arrived.

“Sweetheart, your new toy arrived! Why don’t you come out back and take a look!”

I quickly waddled outside to see whatever relief was in store for me. It… wasn’t what I was expecting. My cheeks burned scarlet as I saw my new toy.

Sitting in the backyard was a yoga ball adorned with a sattle that had a dildo, handcuffs, and ankle cuffs attached to it.

“M-mommy?” My voice quivered.

“Doesn’t it look like so much fun, princess! And we were talking about fitting some more excercise into your routine!”

“Uhmm…”

“Oh don’t be shy darling,” Mommy giggled, “How about we strap you in, and you can have fun bouncing around the back yard until you make stickies in your little diaper.”

“S-stickies?” I could barely believe my ears.

“That’s right, princess!”

“D-do I get to take my cage off?”

“Ahwww baby no,” mommy giggled, “you’re gonna cum like a princess or not at all. No matter how long it takes.”

“But—“

“Ah ah,” Mommy silenced me, “the only butt I want to hear about is the one that’s gonna be bouncing up and down on that big dildo, which is yours sweet pea.”

Mommy grabbed me by the wrists, and I knew better than to fuss. Before I knew it, my ankles and my wrists were tightly secured in mommy’s contraption. I immediately felt the pressure of the big pink dildlo through my diaper. This was going to be a long playtime…

“Ok sweet pea. While you play, Mommy’s going to go start on Din-din. I’ll be watching from inside.”

——————————————

As always, all characters depicted are 18+

Hey everyone, tumblr nuked my account again, so I’m rewriting these captions to reclaim them in the hopes that my followers find me again.

Credit to @Moophins for the image

[sugarglider-s]

"oh i dont know if i'd like gx"

listen. look at my perfect boy. my beautiful little boy. My shining light. my sweet pea my darling my everything. now do you understand.

[ID: four images of Pharaoh the cat from yugioh gx. the first shows him worriedly looking to the side. the second shows him holding fish bones. the third shows him side eyeing something while his paws are tucked underneath him. The fourth image shows him happy. end ID]

[buffetlicious]

If all Zong Zi or Rice Dumplings look the same to you, you’re not alone! Zong Zi (粽子) or Bak Chang are a variety of glutinous rice dumplings traditionally eaten by the Chinese during the Dragon Boat Festival (端午节). Here are six types of popular Zong Zi from various dialect and ethnic groups in Singapore.

Hokkien Rice Dumpling (福建咸肉粽) - One of the most common Zong Zi that can be found in markets and stores, the Hokkien Zong Zi is wrapped in bamboo leaves is recognized by its dark appearance from soy sauce infused rice and distinct aroma from the five-spice seasoning. Usually made with pork belly, salted egg yolk, chestnuts and dried shrimps.

Cantonese Rice Dumpling (广东咸肉粽) - The ingredient that sets Cantonese Zong Zi apart is the filling of mung beans or green beans. One can also order a variation with a salted egg yolk. The glutinous rice is also seasoned with salt and garlic oil instead of soy sauce.

Nyonya Rice Dumpling (娘惹粽) - The Nyonya Zong Zi is the most distinguishable rice dumpling for its bright blue tip that is typically made from the extract of the butterfly pea flower. It is also sweeter in taste and aroma because of its pandan leaf wrapper and candied winter melon.

Teochew Rice Dumpling (潮州粽) - The savoury yet sweet taste of a Teochew Zong Zi comes from various ingredients such as red bean paste or lotus paste, fatty pork belly, earthy mushrooms and dried shrimp. Chestnuts are also added to the dumpling for texture.

Hainanese Rice Dumpling (海南肉粽) - The Hainanese Zong Zi’s most distinctive trait lies in its portion. It is filled with generous chunks of pork belly, whole chestnuts, mushrooms, and seasonings of savoury additions like five-spice powder, dark soy sauce, and black pepper. It is also usually served with a dollop of palm sugar syrup, adding a nice balance of sweetness to its savoury and slightly spicy flavour.

Hakka Rice Dumpling (客家粽) - Steamed in bamboo leaves, the Hakka Zong Zi consists of preserved vegetable filling, juicy pork belly strips and savoury mushrooms. It is also sometimes filled with beans.

Zong Zi info from here and images from Ministry of Culture, Community and Youth.

[toxicbrothel]

I often think about this scene 😵‍💫

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, "What if I told ya to suck his dick?

"No!"

"You'd say no to me?"

"I'd ask if I really have to."

I'm sure it will never happen but what if Sweet pea dreams about it👀

500 words, dark!Joel x you x dark!Carter

Kate, you menace 😫🫶 Thank you for enabling me. I think about this too. Source of quote. Technically, it's a bit of a nightmare. CW dark

You don't wanna think about Carter that way, but you can't help it after Joel mused about you sucking his dick. It was a test, just a test, but he put the image in your mind and it's what you're thinking of when you drift off to sleep. . .

😴💤💤 You're sitting in Joel's lap, facing Carter across the breakfast table. You're in a dress with no panties, impaled on Joel's cock. He’s slowly moving you with his massive hands on your hips. “mm,” he sighs as you lean back. He nibbles at your neck.

Carter quietly sips his coffee. There's something different about Carter. Not just his black eye. Joel pulls you back hard, nudging your cervix and you gasp. You brace your hands on the table. Carter winks at you.

Joel brings his lips to your ear. “Whatcha think, sweet pea?” His hips lift you. “Wanna suck his dick?”

Your face catches fire and your heart races. “No,” you claim.

Carter puts down his coffee, chuckles, and stands up, revealing a massive bulge in his sweatpants. He palms himself as he comes around the table, and your walls twitch around Joel at the sight.

“Don't lie to me, baby,” Joel murmurs. He grabs your tits and pulls you back against him.

Carter squeezes between you and the table. He pulls down his waistband. You're full of Joel’s cock, staring at Carter's gorgeous length as Joel’s hips move under you.

“Just a little kiss,” Carter whispers. “If ya want,” he winks.

You shake your head no but your walls squeeze around Joel’s cock again.

“Don't say no to him,” Joel cautions you. “You wanna, don't ya?”

It's a trap with no way out.

Precum is beading at Carter’s tip until he swipes it away with his thumb. He brings his thumb to your lips and you kiss the salty liquid off.

“Good girl,” Joel whispers. “Just a lil kiss that's all.”

Joel’s chest nudges you forward. Carter sits on the table and spreads his knees. His balls are big, too. His pubic hair is soft looking. Just a tad redder than his scruff. Joel scoots the chair forward and you moan at the jolt of his cock.

“It's ok,” Carter whispers.

You brace your hands on his thighs and he holds his cock for you. Another pearl of precum is forming. Before he can wipe it away, you lean forward and kiss it off. Your lips gently seal around the top half of his tip and your tongue darts out against the slit.

Carter groans.

Joel pulls you back by the hair and your heart skips a beat. He holds you against his chest with one arm while he reaches into the waistband of his pj pants and pulls out a pistol. Carter is sitting calmly with his cock in his hand like he knew it was gonna happen. “Sorry, sweet pea,” Carter mutters apologetically. Joel cocks the hammer, and you wake up.

[zu8her]

✧･ﾟSuna Rintarou | Sweet — just suna being extremely horny

✧･ﾟtags — lots of cum. like a lot. an ungodly amount. non penetrative sex. video call. audio porn. nudes. black!reader. thick!reader. fantasising. switch!suna. no beta. maybe a part 2 if im feeling up to it. masturbating. cock fisting. cock. cock. cock. whiny!suna. Virgin!Suna switch!suna. voicenote.

✧･ﾟnotes — this is the fastest fic i have written thus far. it's inspired by @chrollohearttags and @forusomimiya (y'all are fucking amazing). i dabbled a little bit and added some of my own characterisation to suna. i really hope yall like it.

✧･ﾟ— word count: 1.6K

She's cute. So fucking cute. He thinks staring down at a picture she recently posted. Her hair’s in mini twists. She has on a cherry pink dress with a white-ish nude pink corset outlining her waist. She lays on her signature plaid punch pink picnic mat, snacks surrounding her with a porcelain vase in the centre containing sweet pea vines. She looks up at the camera with a smile. Her hickory skin producing an angelic luminance under the sun's honey glimmer.

Her friend's rust coloured hand can be spotted at the crook of the photo with their glamorous green acrylics in view tapping against the mat.

But his eyes only fixate on her. Her glistening skin, her chest pushed up with the help of the corset (he questions if it was deliberate or not), her thighs in view as her dress is hiked up slightly and her alluring smile.

His eyes has been taking in every tantalising detail of her body. He grunts, a moan or two slipping out, stroking his cock faster. Hissing at the cum seeping down his shaft.

He'd like to say that this doesn't happen often but it does. Him relentlessly stroking his cock for her, because of her, is a near daily occurrence for him. The mere thought of her would make him palm his cock through his sweatpants. The mere sight of her as he scrolled through his phone would make him throw his head back closing his eyes to filthy images of her.

Like right now, viciously fisting his cock. He groans as yet another shaking orgasm washes over him. His cum running down his hand gathering with the previous spurts of cum and precum. It landing on his tile floor and droplets on his phone. It rolls down from his cum-covered balls onto his sweatpants he pulled down a good 2-3 hours ago. His mind too dazed to even conceive the time or how many times he had cum.

To overwhelmed to hold it, he drops his phone. Shutting his eyes, he envisions her with his cock in her mouth. Teasing him with little licks at his tip and her hand running up and down his cock.

He’d always think about her. During practice, lectures, at some of event where he sat for hours, at home, with a smirk planted on his face as she scolds him after finding a piece of her clothing he had hidden in his room after she forgot it there. "You think this is funny? I thought someone stole it. I've been looking for this."

His thoughts would be filled with her. Her in utter ecstasy. Her flowerful voice always in his head, dripping with lust as it whines, moans, gasps and giggles.

“Fuck me, Rin.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

“Be a good boy and let me fuck you, Rin.”

“Touch yourself for me, baby.”

He’s been violently horny, since he became her boyfriend. She knows his for a fact. He's always teasing her. Pressing his hard cock against her ass and whispering the things he'd do to her. “What about we get out of here and you show me what you're hiding under this shirt, hmm? Would you like that?”

This is especially enticing for him because he has not done anything with anyone yet. She has. The thoughts of his 'extremely fucking attractive and experienced' girlfriend fucking him, would rile him up. It would have him in the bathroom rubbing one out with images of her between his legs lapping up all his cum and him fucking her pretty little throat, filling it and watching her swallow.

He'd spent hours fantasising about fucking her in everyway imaginable.

With her bent over his knee as he fucks his fingers into her. Licking off her cum. How would it taste like, he seldom ponders. Would it be as sweet as her.

Her legs over his shoulder, while he moans her name and fucks his cock into her wet cunt. Rubbing her clit as he feels her cum on his cock. How would that feel like?

With her laying on her stomach, drool running down her cheek as he fucks her from behind. Watching her ass repeatedly bounce against his cock.

From the side, holding her leg up as he plunges every inch of his cock into her. Sloppily kissing her. Looking through his mirror at her tits bouncing with his thrusts.

This is torture. Depriving him from fucking her (even if it was him who said he'd like to take things slow). Surely, she had to suffer alongside him. Probably with her wand, pressing it against her clit. Her ass up, legs spread rubbing her clit and teasing her soft fingers inside her slit.

He often wonders if she fucks herself to the thought of him. Does she grope her tits and press her thighs together at the photos she has of him, at the photos he sends?

These thoughts would send him into a frenzy, that leaves him with his cock hard again. Then he'd retreat to his bed or bathroom with his trusty phone and the baby wipes she had left in his dorm and forgot about.

He'd like her to experience and bare the brunt of the disgustingly lewd lust she brought onto him. He'd be cruel, evil even. Torturing her by sending her pictures of his hard cock with his pretty pink tip, audios of him moaning for her, videos of his throbbing cock. His cock twitching with cum all over it, his hand too, holding the base while cum drips onto his stomach. Deliberately but vaguely placing emphasis on his hand or taking it out of the frame entirely because he knows how much she loves his hands.

This night. This normal, Sunday evening, he felt particularly needy. He came, and came, and came. To the point that a small puddle of his cum formed. The ache started when he woke up scrolling through his phone to find a voicenote she had sent to him, of her quiet moans and whimpers with the sound of her vibrator accompanying her, in retaliation. He listened to it on his way to the bathroom. Which is where he stays currently, stroking his cock again after finally ceasing stroking his cock an hour ago.

He cleaned up. Throwing his dirty sweatpants in the laundry hamper. Just then is when he caught a glimpse of her underwear and hot pink towel hanging over the rack.

So, he sits on his toilet with her towel wrapped around his neck inhaling her scent and rubbing her thong against his cock.

While he continued to indulge in his fantasies, she sat by her desk with scented candles, her computer in front of her as she finished her paper. She hums to the music slightly bobbing her head feeling her twists brush against her cheeks.

Feeling her phone vibrate she picks it up. She has notification. A message from: ☆*: .｡.Rin🤎.｡.:*☆ with a video attached to it.

Seeing that, she stops. It’s either him beginning his tirade of bombarding her with videos he found funny (his humour is quite... stale but she loves him for it), the practice match footage, random volleyball plays he wanted to try or him begging her to come fuck him. He’d done this many times. She’d respond with a picture of herself effectively worsen his problem, sometimes she'd be kind and send him a message telling him to care of it himself/ to fuck off (which she found he enjoyed) or her laying in bed with her vibrator between her folds rewatching the video, over, and over, and over again.

She sits thinking. Finish the essay now, but she does have 3 more weeks before she has to hand this in. Her eyes snap to her phone when she receives yet another message from him. She discards all reason and opens it. Clicking on the notification the video automatically plays.

Her screen is filled with his cum-covered cock. It would be abhorrent how much cum covers his cock and hand if she did not find it attractive, which she does. Over her speakers softly plays the sloppy sound of him rubbing his cock and him moaning. She presses her thighs together when he finally speaks.

“Hey, baby.” His husky voice greets.

“Look what you’ve done…” He sniffs. “You did this. Fuck- You have me stroking my cock like this… You won’t even help me… Look how hard it is… I just need- just- fuck- please, please come fuck me, baby.” His deep voice whines.

“I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. Just please let me fuck you." His voice softens. "I'll be good."

He continues, unable to form a coherent thought or sentence with his mind dazed in a haze of pleasure. Just blabbering whatever slips out with his moans.

“You’re so pretty y/n. So fucking pretty. Just thinking about you… Fuck-” He whines as cums spurts onto his stomach and drip down his hand.

Hearing only his whimpers for a few moments as he gathers himself. Then he slips into a domineering tone with his sly chuckle.

“Please, come fuck me. Just your tits will be fine. Or let me eat you out. Or just come watch me. Watch me fuck myself for you. Just for you.”

The camera flips and she's met with his face. Sweat runs down his face, his yellow eyes dull with lust as he gives a fucked-out grin before his face twists and he deliverers a deep moan. She hears him continue to sloppily stroke his cock.

“Fuck, I’m still cumming for you.”

He pants, him biting his lower lip. With a chuckle the video ends.

[petite-phthora]

Da da da... he’s dead

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 6]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

OGnerd = Jason

---

Miss Harleen Quinzel had been having a relaxing evening on the couch with Bud and Lou when she gets a message on her phone. Seeing it’s from Red Hood, who barely texts… well anyone, she quickly opens it.

All he sent her is an image. There’s no text accompanying it and Red Hood already went offline. Harley looks at the selfie Red Hood sent her.

It doesn’t seem like anything special until she sees the body on the floor next to him in the picture.

She freezes.

A big grin stretches across her face and she starts laughing. Not a giggle or a cackle, just a full-blown belly laughter full of happiness and relief and with tears gathering in her eyes.

From another room, her girlfriend’s voice sounds.

“Harls? Are you alright?”

---

An announcement had just been made of the Joker having escaped Arkham once again. And just when Tim thought tonight couldn’t have gotten any worse, Jason sent a message in the groupchat.

---

28 days without the Joker breaking out of Arkham

OGnerd: Due to personal reasons I won’t be patrolling Crime Alley tonight

OGnerd: Don’t follow me.

---

And, Jason being Jason, immediately turned his phone off after sending the messages.

So of course, Tim immediately went to follow him. After updating the groupchat name…

Fortunately for Tim, and unfortunately for Jason, Jason has not been informed of Tim’s stalker tendencies yet. Jason knows he’s nosy, but is unaware of the actual following people around and spying on them aspect.

It was child’s play for Tim to follow the tracker in Jason’s helmet to see him visit… a flower shop?

Tim’s first thought is that he might be following a lead of some kind seeing as he’s in his Red Hood outfit and all. But that thought evaporates the moment Jason walks out of the flower shop with a bouquet of… are those sweet peas?

Slightly bewildered, Tim continues to stalk follow Jason from a safe distance as he steps onto his motorcycle and leaves the flower shop.

He follows him to an apartment complex, where he sees Jason proceed to knock on someone’s window, flowers in hand, rather than just breaking in.

Tim watches as someone opens the window and after a while gets led outside by Jason and eventually down onto the ground and to the motorcycle.

Perplexed at how gentle Jason seems to be with the random dude, Tim barely remembers to move after them when they leave again on the motorcycle.

---

Tim could hear the yelled question from outside.

“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”

That sentence leaves Tim with so many questions.

Not only has Jason’s friend— date? — interacted with the Joker. But he has also punched him, and all that without even knowing that it was, in fact, the Joker.

Watching as the guy put his head on the table in embarrassment, even making Jason concerned for the guy, Tim can only think that damn, Jason really knows how to pick them, huh.

Tim decides to leave them alone. It seems likely that Jason and his mystery boo had something to do with the Joker still not having made an appearance, but he’ll interrogate Jason about it later. He’d rather not be found out and killed for stalking Jason on his date, thank you very much.

While he’s moving further away from them, his coms crack to life with B’s voice.

“Everyone. Meeting at the clock tower in 10. Don’t be late.”

Tim swallows as he changes course to head to the clock tower.

Now, how to keep everyone off Jason’s back so he doesn’t commit familicide?...

---

Once everyone minus Jason was at the clock tower, they got the debrief.

The Joker had escaped Arkham two days ago, and no one has heard anything from him since. Not only that, but they didn’t even know he was gone until a day later.

It was an all-hands-on-deck situation, even Dick came from Bludhaven to help out on the search.

After the debrief is done and they’re about to start the search, B suddenly speaks up again.

“Where’s Red Hood?”

His response is silence as no one speaks up, just awkwardly glancing around. Dick almost started whistling but got elbowed in the gut by Damian. Steph, does, start whistling quietly.

B wasn’t deterred, however. With a sigh, he talks into the coms.

“Oracle—”

“Already on it. I’m currently trying to trace the tracker in his helmet and remotely turn on the cam and audio footage.”

There’s a pause in her speech.

“It looks like there’s some strange interference. The cam footage is being corrupted, and so the is audio.”

B’s expression stays stoic as always.

“The tracker?”

“Glitching. It almost looks like it’s teleporting around the map. It won’t give me one specific location and even disappears entirely every few seconds.”

B lets out a grunt before Babs continues.

“Though it looks like the places the tracker appears are all quite close to each other, so I might be able to interpolate the coordinates of the teleporting tracker and determine a general area for his location.”

“You know,” Tim speaks up foolishly, “in my personal opinion, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. We should probably just leave him alone for the night“

Tim sweats as he can feel B’s gaze on him as he replies to Oracle. “Keep us updated”

---

They had split up and searched for two hours so far, stopping some minor crime on the way, but they hadn’t been able to find any clue as to where the Joker might be.

Oracle has managed to find the moment of his escape on the cameras, but after a while the files start to glitch and the rest of them are completely missing. Someone wiped the files.

They decided to regroup at the clock tower to discuss some more strategies.

“Oracle, report on Red Hood’s location.”

“I tried to get the general location of the tracker and I traced it all the way back to a restaurant, but I’m almost certain it just started moving. I’m currently tracing its path to try and extrapolate the new location.”

“Good. Keep us updated.”

Tim tries to speak up when Oracle starts talking again.

“Oracle here. I think the tracker is moving towards… the Gotham Observatory?”

“What the hell is Jason doing at the observatory?” Duke wonders.

Going on a date with a mysterious twink who’s definitely not a native Gothamite and seems to randomly punch clowns?

At first, Tim couldn’t believe Jason going on a date with someone seemingly so oblivious/naïve.

But when he puts it like that… yeah, ‘mysterious twink that punches the Joker without knowing it’ sounds like it would be Jason’s type…

“No real names.” Is B’s response, evoking some eye-rolls.

“Nightwing, go check on Red Hood at the observatory. Observation only, but step in if necessary. Report back”

B probably sent Nightwing cause he’s the least likely to get maimed by a pissed-off Red Hood.

Before Dick is able to take off, Tim nervously speaks up “You know guys, I think we should just leave him be for tonight and focus on finding the Joker”

The silence on the roof and across the coms speaks volumes.

B is the first one to speak up.

“Why are you covering for him?”

“I’m not covering for him!” is Tim’s immediate response.

He is, but if he revealed anything he has found out, Jason would murder him when (not if) he finds out.

B raises an eyebrow at him.

“Ohhh, Timbo’s been keeping secrets~— Ow!” Steph is heard saying, before being elbowed by Cass.

The others stay silent as they watch the exchange.

Damnit, why did Alfred have to teach B that eyebrow raise?

Tim caves.

“Alright, I am covering for him. But I can’t tell you what for. He’ll kill me”

Damian scoffs “Todd probably bribed Drake to keep his mouth shut. Don’t worry, I can make him talk”

Damian tries to step forward, katana raised, but gets held back by the scruff of his Robin costume by Dick.

“Richard, let me go!—”

“Nope, Little D. Let’s not commit fratricide today”

B doesn’t pay them any mind.

“Red Robin, if you have information on Red Hood and the Joker—“

“It has nothing to do with the Joker, I swear!” Tim tries. “Jason is just… having a relaxation day! He’s taking a uh, small break.”

Well, it probably has something to do with the Joker, but Tim has plausible deniability.

“So we shouldn’t bother him today, uh, at all. He really needs this, uh, self-care day. I mean have you seen the amount of grey hairs he’s been getting from the stress lately?”

The sound of Damian’s struggling against Dick’s hold is the only thing he hears.

B is just silently glaring at him.

“He’s on a date!” Tim bursts out.

…

Fuck.

The only sounds that break the silence are the small ‘oompf’ from Damian as he is dropped by Dick and Dick’s excited squeak of “Little Wing is on a date?!”

Uh oh.

---

Somewhere far away, in another realm, a manic cackle echoes across an expanse of green.

---

Taglist (for now, I’ll probably stop if I cant keep up):

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing

[springwitch26]

green like her eyes (part 1) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you and melissa enjoy smoking weed together to blow off steam from work. this time, things get really steamy.

warnings: sexual content (18+), recreational marijuana use, some emotional/romantic story elements (fluff? more like intense mutual pining), trippy scenes and a general dark aura at times but it's cute

notes: i'm back! consume drugs responsibly, folks. this story is different from my usual content and loosely based on an ex-situationship lol. part 1 sets up the relationship between mel and reader, and part 2 (hopefully coming in the next few days) will feature some more sexual tension and smut. comments and feedback appreciated as always 💚

melissa never would have guessed that you were as young as you were when she met you. unlike other teachers your age, you had a natural air of maturity about you. you were confident but not cocky, passionate (but not annoyingly so, like janine), and smart but not smug about it. in a word, you were cool. and melissa was hooked. with the natural chemistry between the two of you, you became fast friends.

you never meant for melissa to find out about your extracurricular interest in marijuana, but it just slipped out one day. you were too comfortable around her to hold anything back.

"god, what a week it's been," you mused, sitting on her desk as you watched her pack up for the weekend. "i just need to curl up on my couch, put on some netflix, and maybe smoke..."

"smoke what?" she asked reflexively, and you knew she was a keeper.

in the conversation that followed, you and melissa made plans to smoke together that night. what started as a fun experiment soon became routine stress relief. you'd go over to melissa's house every friday night and make full use of the weed from one of her many 'guys'. because melissa cared about your safety, she never let you drive home. you'd just have to sleep over. and since she wouldn't let you sleep on the couch—'the last thing ya need at your age is back pain!'—you would just have to sleep in her bed. with her.

with the introduction of this shared interest, your relationship with melissa became much more intimate. for starters, melissa's touches were always bolder on friday nights. while she wasn't shy about touching you sober—drifting her hand along your lower back as she brushed past you, rubbing your shoulders when you looked stressed in the breakroom—the touches were different after a joint or two. hungrier.

where you were a giggly and whimsical stoner, melissa was definitely a touchy one. you two would sit on her couch, practically on top of each other while you watched movies or played video games. you'd talk animatedly about whatever was happening on the tv; she'd watch your face and trace featherlight patterns on your thighs. and your belly. and maybe also the swell of your ass, when she thought she could get away with it.

she always could.

...

after the success of ava fest, the two of you were on top of the world. tonight's would be the best sleepover yet.

"we got lots to celebrate, sweet pea," melissa had covertly whispered in your ear as people filed out of the gym. you knew what she meant and your face warmed, causing you to look away bashfully. melissa thought you were the cutest thing.

when you let yourself in the front door that night, you were met with the mesmerizing sight of melissa rolling a joint on her kitchen counter. she smirked as you faltered in the doorway, eyes lingering on her working fingers. she rubbed the flower between her fingertips, and your mind betrayed you with a filthy image.

"y/n? you comin' in?" melissa's amused voice brought you out of your trance and you kicked your boots off, closing the door behind you. melissa didn't miss the way your skirt lifted and swirled with your movements.

"looking good, chef schemmenti," you gestured between melissa and the joint-in-progress. at this she smiled, trying not to stare at your breasts and legs as you moved closer in that damn outfit.

you leaned against the counter across from her, making sure to push your tits forward while doing so. you winked at melissa, whose cheeks had turned a shade pinker, and motioned for her to continue rolling up.

"thanks, hon. this stuff's supposed to be top-shelf. gelato, i think they said," melissa's south philly accent was clear as she spoke.

you smiled in appreciation. melissa knew you liked to research what you smoked before you got high on it. you picked up your phone to look up the strain, but then you saw melissa bring the paper up to her lips.

her tongue darted out and drew a line across the paper, allowing melissa to seal the joint. she held eye contact with you the entire time, and you swore she could read your mind. it was like she knew you were thinking about her tongue sweeping through your folds and circling your bundle.

you knew it was wrong; it had to be. she was your coworker, and so much older with more experience in every aspect of life. but that was exactly what attracted you to her.

"whaddaya say? wanna light this one up?" melissa held the joint up to your line of sight, an amused glint in her eyes.

...

minutes later you were standing on her balcony, huddled together to keep the wind from putting out the flame. melissa took the first hit, blowing an impressive cloud of smoke from her full lips and into the sky. you felt dizzy watching the way her lips curled into an 'o' around the smoke.

when she passed the joint to you, you were determined to prove yourself. you took a long inhale, and in seconds you were coughing furiously. melissa chuckled under her breath, but reached out to rub your back. her touch felt electric.

"you okay, hon? i would call an ambulance, but this community doesn't need to know what ms. schemmenti and ms. y/l/n do behind closed doors," she joked, drawing circles on your back.

"yeah, i'm alright," you rasped out, brushing tears from your eyes. "my lungs just need a break." melissa paused a moment at that, looking deep in thought.

"do you trust me?" she finally asked after a prolonged silence. you nodded firmly, staring deep into her probing eyes. they were as green as the trees in her backyard.

melissa took another hit of the joint and leaned in, and before you knew it her mouth was on yours. her tongue swiped along your bottom lip, and your lips parted to welcome her in. she blew a steady stream of smoke into your mouth, and you accepted it greedily.

"there. feel better?" melissa whispered as she pulled away from you. her pupils were blown, and you felt high on the look she gave you alone. you both grinned.

the rest of the session went that way. melissa would take sizable hits of the joint, then shotgun the smoke into your mouth for you. you didn't touch the joint for the rest of the night; if you wanted a direct hit, melissa would hold it up to your lips while her other arm rested on your waist.

melissa was right about the weed being high-quality. you felt like you were floating in her arms as she held you by the waist—keeping you upright in your disoriented state. as she finished off the last of the joint, you looked out at the woods behind melissa's house. the trees seemed closer to you now, and you felt like reaching out and touching the branches as they danced in the wind.

"honey?" melissa's soft voice echoed in your head and you turned to face her. her eyes seemed to swirl and sparkle like emerald pools. but there was also a dark edge to them, reminding you of the beckoning woods.

"let's go for a walk."

...

though it wasn't your typical pastime, you quite liked walking while high. your legs moved on autopilot, and you could hardly feel them carrying you across the dark earth. there was a walking path through the woods behind melissa's house. you strolled side-by-side with the older woman, leaning on her for support when your balance failed you.

"mel, look!" you grabbed her hand and stopped on the path, your other hand pointing up to the sky. "it's a full moon! pretty, right?"

"beautiful..." melissa responded, not at all looking at the moon. her gaze was fixed on your face, which seemed to glow under the moonlight. when her finger stroked the back of your hand absently, you shivered and looked back at her. the expression on her face was soft, even peaceful. with her mouth forming a half-smile and her eyes slightly unfocused, it seemed like she had finally dropped her guard. realizing she had been caught staring, melissa quickly pivoted.

"i always liked the sun better, though," she said as you both resumed walking. the moon's shine weakened then, as if obscured by a cloud. melissa stole a glance at you, noticing how your hair looked a shade darker in the dimmer light. she wanted to stroke it, hold it up to all different colors of light and watch its hues and highlights change.

"huh. why?" you wondered aloud. melissa considered your question a while before answering.

"because you can't run from it," melissa said plainly. "i never liked hidin' in the shadows. you can do that at night. but then the sun comes up, and it's bright and warm, and you can't stay down. you gotta wake up and be somebody."

you heard her words in every corner of your head, her deep voice flowing through you. maybe you were high, but there seemed to be a strong force—almost like gravity—pulling you towards melissa. not just physically, but mentally. you wanted to tell her how smart she was, how charming and powerful and fucking sexy. you wanted to tell her that she was the sun burning brightly at the center of your world.

unfortunately, in your hazy headspace, you couldn't find the words to express all this to her. but you sure tried.

"and the sun is hot and fiery, like you," you almost whispered the last two words, but melissa caught them. she brushed off the compliment with a low laugh and a squeeze of your hand, still clasped in hers.

"sure, hon," she murmured. then you started to feel the stirrings of a rainstorm. cold droplets of water kissed your head and ran down your torso, and you looked to melissa for guidance. by now, you two were pretty far from melissa's house; you'd need to head back soon to avoid getting soaked.

melissa gave you a nod and you both began to run back towards the house, the wind howling in your ears and water beating steadily on your joined hands.

to be continued...

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - lee jooyeon

☆彡 the long awaited end of this sweet little series is finally here!! I hope you all enjoyed! :) 🩷

word count: 633 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: swearing, all caps, not proofread, lmk if something is missing!

← previous member

it’s time for our sillies little boyfie

omg okay where do I begin

he holds your hand all the time

out in public, in bed while cuddling, under the dinner table like you’re in middle school-

he wants you close at all times

he loves you so so so sooooo much

I am the queen of the Jooyeon clingy boyfriend agenda

he LOVES PDA

okay- in reality he love what you’re comfortable with- but still

he loves being able to show you off!

you’re his! he’s dating you! he can’t believe it!!!

once he gets comfortable the pet names are… oh boy

the type of cringe you would expect from Gunil tbh

“baby”

“bubs”

“SWEET PEA” 🥹

“pookie”

“pumpkin” on rare occasions

he likes to have fun with them

you would probably make most of your plans bc have you seen the way this man uses bubble?

he will not answer your damn phone calls!

(but he means well I swear)

the selfies you get from this man are either killer or hilarious

it’s like,, a Seungmin level fit check or a .5 image where it looks like he’s looking both directions at once 💀

but it’s okay bc you love him for it obvi 🫶🏻

speaking of loving him, Jooyeon strikes me as another member of xh that your younger siblings or cousins would love

NAHH YOU KNOW WHO WOULD LOVE HIM??

YOUR GRANDMA!!!!

children find him funny and old people find him charming and endearing

they would totally say you’re dating a prince lol

please play with his hair

I feel like he would love it

he lowkey loves it when you baby him?

like, eat the vegetables off of his plate and tell him how cute he is and he’ll eat that shit up

he is constantly singing

he makes songs up about what he does during the day

he’ll randomly hit you with the, “earlier today I was 🎶washing the dishes🎶 and I almost broke a plate.”

I feel like one of his go-to gifts would be plushies?

it’s your birthday? plushie

valentine’s day? here’s a little guy

and he forces you to name them all

sometimes he comes up with the names before he even gives them to you

“Here you go!” *hands you a plushie* “This is Bart.”

he is so amazed by you all the time

he truly idolizes you and the way you carry yourself and treat people

you aren’t afraid to be a little weird or different and he would love it!!

he would write songs for you :(

he would write songs about you :,(

I think it would be sooooo easy to fluster him

“You look very pretty today Jooyeon.” he’s red as can be

but don’t worry because he can dish it out just as well as he can take it

hot take: I bet Jooyeon secretly has rizz

it doesn’t happen often, but every now and then he hits you with a really good one-liner that honestly leaves you at a loss for words

he loves cuddle sessions :( my sweet, clingy boy

very excitable!

you could suggest watching paint dry as a date idea and he would be vibrating with excitement

loves loves loooves when you wear his clothes ESPECIALLY out in public!

it’s like your little way of showing people you’re taken

he would melt of you ever referred to him as, “my boyfriend” to someone in public like-

‼️ that’s him ‼️

he’s a ball of sunshine when he’s around you, but he also knows when to dial it back and be more serious as well

the duality to this man comes into play with more than just his stage presence!

overall, Jooyeon never stops smiling when he’s with you because he constantly has something to be thankful for 🩷

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚